The wind screamed across the cliffside like a wounded dragon.
Ash and snow danced together in the dying light — the sky split between crimson and silver. Below, the ruins of Velmor Citadel smoldered, its towers bowed as though begging forgiveness from the heavens they once defied.
Kaito stood at the edge, Yù Lóng's voice whispering through the back of his mind soft, ancient, and trembling with sorrow.
>"You burned too deeply this time, little flame. Even vengeance leaves scars upon the wind."
He didn't answer. His hands were still trembling, covered in blood — not his own. The cries of the soldiers he had slain still echoed in his skull.
Behind him, Eira approached quietly. Her frost-white hair whipped in the storm, her blue eyes reflecting the same conflict she saw in him.
"Are you proud of what you've done?" she asked, voice cold but not cruel.
Kaito didn't turn. "They murdered villages for gold. I gave them justice."
"Justice?" Eira's tone cracked. "You burned an entire battalion alive, Kaito. Even the wounded. Even the ones who surrendered."
His jaw tightened. Flames rippled faintly beneath his skin — small threads of red weaving under the scars that now crawled up his neck.
"They would've done worse if I hadn't."
Before she could reply, Thorn limped from the shadows, one arm pressed against his ribs. "Enough," he growled. "The world's already breaking apart. If we turn on each other, there won't be anything left to save."
Eira's eyes softened, but her heart ached. "He's becoming what he swore to destroy."
Kaito's breath caught. Those words hit deeper than any blade.
And Yù Lóng — bound within his soul — stirred uneasily.
> "She is right."
"Every time your rage feeds me, I remember the fall of my kind. I remember the humans who promised peace… and brought extinction instead."
"Do not let that memory become your destiny."
The storm cracked open — lightning tore the horizon, illuminating the silhouette of something vast in the distance.
A fortress carved from black stone, wreathed in flame and mist: The Obsidian Sanctum.
"That's where the relic lies," said Thorn. "The Heart of the First Flame. The key to ending this curse."
Eira frowned. "Or the key to destroying what's left of the world."
Kaito's eyes narrowed. He could feel it — a pull in his chest, ancient and magnetic. The relic was calling him, whispering through the fire that bled in his veins.
"Kaito…" Yù Lóng's voice trembled. "That place… is where I died."
He froze. The others looked at him, confused, but his world was already spiraling.
Visions flared before his eyes — dragons chained to stone, screaming as molten iron filled their throats. Men in silver armor chanting in the old tongue. And at the center… a young dragon with golden eyes, struck down by a blade of shadow.
Yù Lóng's memories were merging with his own — love, agony, betrayal, and a silence so deep it drowned the stars.
Kaito staggered back. His pulse raced, his breath turned fire.
"I saw it," he gasped. "The betrayal… It started there."
Eira caught his arm. "Then that's where we end it."
The storm howled louder, as if the world itself protested their path. But none of them turned away.
Together, they began their descent toward the black horizon — toward the place where dragons were silenced, and history began its lie.
Far behind them, in the ashes of Velmor, a shadow stirred — cloaked in tattered crimson, its eyes glowing like dying embers.
"The Graveborn walks toward the heart," it whispered. "Good. Let him open the flame that sleeps. Let him remember what he truly is."