Ruins Of Nyxia

Aria caught Neon´s outstretched hand and pushed herself back up.

The cold hit her next, slicing through the fabric of her clothes like a thousand tiny needles. She sucked in a breath, but the air here was thin. Metallic. Wrong.

There was no sky, bright like Militia. No horizon. Just blackness stretching infinitely, a suffocating void swallowing what little light flickered around them. Her breath came out in a tremor, forming a fragile mist that disappeared into the abyss. The silence was thick, pressing against her ears.

She shivered. "Where's the light?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"There isn't any natural light," Neon said simply, as if it were a fact of life. "Not in Nyxia."

Aria fought against the nausea bubbling in her gut. She was used to vibrancy, to warmth, to color. Here, the world seemed stripped bare, starved of all but its most skeletal remains. Her eyes struggled to adjust, her head spinning from the sheer wrongness of it all.

As she desperately shifted her gaze again and again, absorbing her surroundings, she saw something of strange interest. 

Ruins.

Jagged silhouettes jutted out from the ground, fractured spires of forgotten architecture. Twisted metal, scorched stone, the remnants of a cluster of buildings that once was. They loomed like shadows of the past, broken teeth gnawing at the void.

Neon didn’t slow. He barely even looked at them.

“They’ve always been here,” he muttered.

But Aria stopped in her tracks. Her heart pounded.

No. No, that wasn’t right.

She knew these ruins.

She had never been to Nyxia before. And yet...

A cold sweat broke over her skin as she stared at the crumbling structures. There was something familiar in their broken shapes, something that clawed at the edges of her memory. A street she had never walked, a tower she had never seen, a feeling she couldn’t explain.

"Neon," she said slowly. "I... I recognize this place."

He frowned, finally turning to look at her. "You know that's impossible." 

"And yet…" Her voice trembled. "I do."

A gust of wind howled through the ruins, cutting through her bones. The nausea deepened, but she forced herself forward. If there were answers to be found, they were there.

They picked their way through the skeletal remains. Aria clung to Neon's side despite herself, her false bravado slipping away with each step. The darkness felt alive, coiling around her limbs, whispering in her ears.

She stiffened as something rustled nearby. Her grip around his arm tightened.

He sighed. "You’re trembling."

"I’m f-fine," she said unconvincingly.

He stopped and turned to face her. "You don’t have any real experience fighting Nyxians, do you?"

She shook her head, her fingers twisting nervously together.

Neon exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, without a word, he picked up a rusted metal pipe from the debris and thrust it toward her.

"Lesson one," he said flatly. "Hold this."

She hesitated before wrapping her hands around the makeshift weapon. It was heavy, uneven, and uncomfortable. He stepped behind her, adjusting her stance with sharp, practiced movements.

"Stop standing around aimlessly like that. It makes you look helpless."

She pouted but complied, gripping the pipe tighter. "I am helpless."

"Then we change that."

Her arms wobbled as she tried to mimic his stance. She could feel the heat of his presence close to her, his movements steady, controlled. She wanted to believe she could be like that too.

A distant sound made Neon stiffen. His hand shot out, pushing her behind a slab of broken stone.

"We need to find shelter. Now."

As they hurried through the ruins, Aria’s mind drifted. The weight of the pipe in her hands, the gnawing fear in her chest, the way Neon moved so effortlessly through the dark. It all reminded her of something. Or someone.

She touched her shoulder absentmindedly, fingers brushing over the faint scar hidden beneath her clothes. She pulled over her sleeve once they finally came to a halt, revealing the partially healed wound beneath it.

"I´ve had this since I was seven," she said quietly. "A Nyxian soldier almost got me. I ran."

Neon glanced at her.

"I´ve never did anything worth honoring." She said. "Not like you. You're a fighter. A soldier. You have a cause. Tomorrow, maybe I’ll run away again, like I always do."

He didn’t respond immediately. When he did, his voice was softer than she expected. "I don’t think you will."

She stared. "You think you know me?"

"No," he admitted. "I don’t know the first thing about you. But I do know what it’s like to be afraid."

His gaze turned distant. "First time I saw an enemy soldier, I thought I was going to die. My hands shook so badly I could barely hold my weapon. But my resolve was bigger than my fear. That’s what kept me alive."

Aria swallowed. "You think I have resolve?"

"I think you’re a hopeless coward." His lips curled into a smirk. "But your resolve is real." 

She blinked at him. The words should’ve stung, but somehow, they didn’t.

"Being afraid isn’t a bad thing," he continued. "It’s my fear that’s brought me this far."

The wind howled through the ruins again, but this time, it didn’t feel as cold.

She tightened her grip on the pipe, focusing back to her surroundings. She still couldn´t shake the strange feeling of familiarity.

She knew this place.

But she shouldn’t.

Her fingers traced the edge of a broken wall, its surface rough with time, and for a brief moment, she could almost see, no, remember what it had been before. Not ruins. A city. A sanctuary. 

She shivered, forcing herself back to the present. Beside her, Neon moved again with practiced ease, his gaze sweeping the ruins like this was nothing out of the ordinary. Like the remnants had always been here. Maybe to him, they had.

Then the sound of footsteps.

Neon tensed, grabbing her wrist and pulling her behind the remains of what seemed to be a collapsed bridge. Aria barely had time to react before she saw them.

Soldiers.

Soldiers, but not Nyxian. Not Militian. Something else.

Their cloaks gleamed dark under the distant neon glow of the city lights. They moved in formation, rifles sleek and humming with power. But even from here, Aria could feel something more. The air shimmered faintly around them, an unnatural energy curling at their fingertips. Militian magic?

“Stay low,” Neon murmured.

They were fast, moving with precision as they scouted the area.

And when the first enemy finally spotted them, everything erupted into chaos.