The memories felt like distant echoes, fading with every passing day. But in that moment, they were sharp, vivid, and painfully real.
Kael stood by the balcony of Base Omega, the wind tugging at his hair, a slight chill in the air. But he wasn't thinking about the cold. He was thinking of the warmth. The warmth of summers long gone, of laughter and fire, of a bond that had once been unbreakable.
Two years ago.
Before the fall.
Kael had always looked up to his older brother, Vael. The prodigy. The one who seemed to excel in everything, from combat to academics. Vael was everything Kael aspired to be—strong, confident, composed. The kind of person others admired.
And Kael?
He had been the younger sibling, full of questions and admiration, always trying to keep up.
But Vael never minded. They spent hours together, talking about everything and nothing.
It was on one of those rare nights when their father was away, when the mansion was empty except for the two of them, that Vael had pulled Kael aside with a mischievous grin.
"Come on," Vael had said, ruffling Kael's hair. "You and me are going out."
Kael, wide-eyed and confused, had followed.
"Out? But we're supposed to—"
"Forget about training for a night," Vael interrupted with a wink. "You need to live a little."
And so, they snuck out.
They had made their way to a quiet street just outside their family estate, hidden behind the tall walls and gates. The sound of the city was muffled here, but the street was alive with the scent of grilled meat. A small, unassuming barbecue stall sat at the corner. The air was thick with the smell of sizzling pork and chicken, the clatter of pans, and the chatter of locals.
For Kael, it was like stepping into another world. No one cared who he was here. No one knew his name, or his father's legacy. It was just him and Vael.
They sat at the stall, eating until they couldn't breathe from the fullness. Vael laughed at Kael's complaints about the heat of the food, teasing him about being "soft."
But Kael didn't mind. It was the sound of Vael's laughter, of seeing his brother so carefree, that made him feel alive.
They were together. It was all that mattered.
"What's it like, Vael?" Kael had asked, his voice serious despite the warmth of the night. "Being so… perfect?"
Vael looked at him, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. "Perfect?" He chuckled. "I'm not perfect, Kael. I just know what I want, and I go after it."
"You always know what to do," Kael said, leaning back. "You're… you're different."
"No," Vael said softly, leaning forward with a slight smirk. "I'm just better at hiding the mess."
Kael frowned. "The mess?"
Vael looked away, eyes distant for a moment, before he grabbed Kael's shoulder. "Everyone has their mess, little brother. You just have to make sure no one sees it."
That was all Vael had said on the subject. But it stuck with Kael.
For years, he tried to be like his brother—perfect, composed, flawless. Vael's words echoed in his mind whenever the pressure of expectations felt too much. "Hide the mess."
But now?
Now, Kael wondered if the mess had been too much for Vael to hide. Had the pressure of their father's legacy, of their family's bloodline, finally cracked him?
Kael snapped back to reality, his gaze drifting away from the memory.
His brother had been perfect, had seemed unstoppable. Kael had believed that nothing could break him. But now, the man who stood at the head of Crimson Sickle, wielding that cursed Hellfire Arcana, was a stranger.
What had happened to the brother who'd sneaked him out to barbecue stalls in the dead of night? The brother who had laughed and told him stories? The brother who had promised they'd always be together, no matter what?
Kael clenched his fists, his pulse quickening.
"Vael…" His voice barely rose above a whisper.
The warmth of the fire from that summer night—the laughter, the shared moments—was long gone, reduced to ash.
Now all Kael had left was the fire that burned within him. And the resolve to put an end to the man his brother had become.