Ashura stood atop a crumbled spire, smoke curling around his shoulders like a crown. His blood-drenched armor glistened in the firelight as the ruins of the city around him crackled and screamed. Below, the shattered remnants of the Republic's elite scattered, desperately trying to regroup.
"Send the Iron Battalion forward!" someone shouted.
Ashura's fingers twitched. "Let them come."
From behind him, the rest of the Grim Crew began to emerge — all uniquely terrifying in their own right. Each one was a walking force of destruction.
Herzl, now battle-hardened and cloaked in his darkened Inn aura, floated down beside Ashura. His landing cracked the marble tiles beneath. "You smell like smoke and failure," Herzl muttered with a grin.
Ashura cracked a rare smile. "And you still talk too much."
From the skies above, Republic warplanes screamed downward, dropping white-hot bombing trails across the fractured capital. The sound was apocalyptic — the shriek of a dying world.
Herzl raised his hand, twisting the aura around his fingers. The air around him thickened, distorted, bending like melting glass. He extended it forward—
BOOM.
A warplane exploded mid-air, crushed by an invisible force field of pure Inn pressure.
"Time to clean house," said Grim softly, almost like a prayer. He stepped forward, his black eyes glinting with something inhuman.
The Battlefield: Chaos and Comedy
Below, on the ground, the rest of the Grim Crew clashed with the Republic's famed "Flame Division."
A mountain-sized brute named Roah swung a city bus like a club while yelling, "I don't even know whose side I'm on anymore!"
Meanwhile, Velza, the crew's illusionist, had enchanted a group of Republic soldiers to believe they were ducks. They waddled through the flames, quacking wildly while their commander screamed in confusion.
"Velza!" Herzl shouted mid-air as he dodged an artillery blast. "We agreed — no more poultry illusions during wartime!"
"But it's art!" she snapped back, grinning.
Ashura vs. Republic General Kael
In the city square, Ashura faced General Kael, a stoic war veteran wielding a twin-bladed halberd and wearing mech-enhanced armor. Each blow sent shockwaves through buildings.
Ashura blocked a strike with his forearm, letting sparks dance off his armor. "You're strong," Kael said between gritted teeth.
"I'm more than strong," Ashura replied. "I'm what happens when the world bleeds too long."
He stepped into Kael's space, placing his hand on the general's chest—then whispered:
"Collapse."
A burst of raw Inn energy exploded outward, folding metal and concrete inward like paper. Kael screamed as his armor crushed inward, only to be saved at the last second by an emergency evac device.
Ashura turned, his long coat trailing flames, his eyes reflecting the entire city burning. "Next."
The Final Panel of the Chapter
As night fell, the skies turned a strange, blood-soaked violet.
A massive Republic warship emerged from behind the clouds — sleek, monstrous, and brimming with nuclear-tipped Inn cannons.
Herzl looked up, eyes narrowing.
"You think that scares me?" he said quietly.
Behind him, the Grim Crew regrouped.
Ashura cracked his knuckles. "Then let's bring the sky down."