The last light of dusk bled into black.
Ash floated through the air like snow, soft and endless. The battlefield was quiet now, except for the low groans of the dying and the quiet, ragged breathing of the few who still stood.
Aira knelt in the bloodstained mud, Ezrah's head resting in her lap.
His chest rose and fell slowly, too slowly, with each breath more fragile than the last. The gash across his ribs was deep—too deep for even her healing hands.
Her claws trembled.
"I should've protected you," she whispered, voice cracking.
Ezrah looked up at her with a tired smile, eyes full of something heavier than pain—full of peace.
"You did," he breathed. "You gave me a reason to fight."
The others were gone—Hirata, Shino, the rest of the Slayers. Either dead, lost, or scattered into the falling ruins of Sanctum Gate. Only the two of them remained at the heart of the world's final breath.
Aira leaned down, pressing her forehead to his. "Don't leave me."
"I'm not," he murmured. "I'll be with you… always."
Then came the sound—a low growl, like death dragging its claws across the earth.
The Devourer Queen.
A creature unlike anything they had seen, tall as towers, with wings made of bone and a face twisted into a permanent scream. It rose from the ashes of the previous battle, feeding on the remains of every demon they'd slain.
Aira stood up slowly, her eyes glowing a violent silver-blue.
"You want to take everything from me?" she said, voice trembling as the storm formed behind her. "Then take me."
Her transformation wasn't gentle this time.
It tore through her—her veins glowing, her skin cracking with light, hair rising like flames in a storm. She rose into the air, hovering before the Queen, no longer girl or monster. Just fury.
Ezrah watched from the ground, half-conscious, as she launched forward.
The battle wasn't a fight. It was vengeance.
She didn't scream. She didn't flinch.
Every blow she gave, she thought of Kaien's blanket.
Every roar, she remembered Ezrah's quiet protection.
Every time she bled, she remembered how she once wished she could die—until they made her want to live.
Then came the final blow.
Aira pierced the Devourer Queen's chest with her arm, and screamed through clenched teeth, "You don't get to win."
The Queen exploded from the inside, fragments raining down like glass stars.
And then—
Silence.
Burnt air. Crumbling stones. No more enemies.
Aira fell to the ground, body glowing dimly, collapsing beside Ezrah.
"I did it," she whispered. "It's over."
Ezrah smiled faintly. "You're still glowing."
"I think I always was."
They lay there, broken and quiet, fingers brushing one last time beneath the falling ash.
☁️
A Week Later.
The few survivors stood among the ruins, burying the dead.
Aira wore Ezrah's tattered scarf around her neck. She didn't speak much anymore. But her eyes were clearer now.
Someone once called her a monster.
Now… they bowed to her.
She looked to the horizon. The world was quiet again.
But inside her… the fire remained.
A memory.
A love.
A war that ended not in victory, but in something better—
Survival.
THE END.