You Two Lovebirds Can End This War

Neon’s fingers twitched at his side, barely resisting the urge to reach for his weapon.

The same Vey who had fought beside him, who had bled in the endless slaughter of Nyxia’s wars, who had laughed in the face of death like it was a cheap joke. And now… now he stood there, calm, composed, an enigma wrapped in shadows. A phantom from a life Neon barely recognized.

A sick feeling curdled in Neon’s stomach.

Vey sighed, tilting his head, his smirk lazy. “You’re looking at me like I’m the enemy, Neon. That hurts.”

Neon’s jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His breath came short and uneven. “You’re with them. Those special soldiers. What the hell is going on, Vey?”

Vey’s smirk didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened, something unsettling flickering in his dark eyes. 

“Tell me, Neon. Do you know how our world came into existence?”

The question hit like a bullet to the ribs.

Neon’s pulse thundered in his ears. His mouth opened, but no words came. He didn’t have an answer. 

None of them did. The world simply was. A never-ending war, a cycle of violence carved into their bones, fought between Nyxians and Militians like some divine machine wound too tightly and doomed to break apart. No one had ever asked why.

Vey took a slow step forward, his boots barely making a sound. The silence stretched, suffocating, thick as oil. “I changed my ways, Neon.”

The ground beneath Neon’s feet felt like it had vanished.

Aria, still pressed against the wall, let out a sharp breath, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.

Vey continued, his voice soft but cutting. “Oh, I wore the uniform, same as you. We fought, we bled, we followed orders like good little soldiers. But after a while, I started to see the cracks. This war, this entire world... it’s all a sham, Neon.”

Neon’s body went rigid. His heart pounded. “That doesn’t make sense. You fought. You killed. You were one of them, even if I could never go that far.”

Vey let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “No. I played the role they needed me to play. Because I had no choice.”

A chill. He could hear it in Vey’s voice—the weight of it, the exhaustion beneath his words, the ghost of something deeper.

“The ones who created this world,” Vey continued, his gaze turning distant, “the Architect and his beloved… they control everything. The war, the factions, even the history we think we know. Every battle we’ve fought, every life we’ve taken, every drop of blood spilled—it’s all been orchestrated. All perfectly balanced, doomed to go on forever.”

His voice dropped lower, dark and razor-sharp. "Haven´t you ever wondered why nobody ever has the upper hand in this war?"

Aria simply listened, feeling too weak to interrupt. Neon stared.

“When I realized the truth, I did what I had to do. I became their puppet, their enforcer. I sabotaged Nyxia where I could. I weakened the Militians when needed. And I did it all because I thought—maybe, just maybe—if I proved my worth, they’d set me free.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Neon felt his pulse hammering in his skull, his breath shallow. The room felt too small, too fragile, like the weight of Vey’s revelation might crack it apart.

Vey’s voice softened, but it carried no comfort. “But freedom is a lie. Just another leash. So I did what I had to do to survive. Because if I didn’t, I’d end up just like the rest of them.”

Neon wanted to be angry, to call Vey a traitor, a liar, but the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, he understood. He had spent a large part of his life following orders. Just another cog in the machine, never questioning the reason behind the war. But Vey had.

And since meeting Aria, Neon had been beginning to question it too.

 Vey studied him, his expression unreadable. Then, something almost fond flickered in his eyes.

“I’m glad you did too, in a way.”

Neon blinked. “What?”

Vey smiled, but it was different this time. Not mocking. Not cold. Something almost… proud. “You looked past the endless hate, past the cycle. You found an ally in a Militian girl. And a person you love.” His gaze flicked briefly to Aria before returning to Neon. “You two have the chance to end this war.”

Aria’s breath hitched. Neon felt his face heat up, but he scowled, his words tumbling over each other. “It’s not—she’s not—we’re not—”

Vey laughed, a genuine, warm sound, and for a fleeting moment, it was like time had rewound. He could almost see the reckless little boy he had met in the scraps all those years ago, the determined one who had pulled him from the gutter, like the world hadn’t already decided to break them. “You’re still the same cute little kid, Neon.”

Aria crossed her arms, her face tinged pink despite her defiance. “We’re not a couple.”

Vey waved a hand, amused. “Right, sure.” His smirk lingered, but his voice softened. “But love or not, you two can change everything. You can stop this war. Together.”

Neon swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides. “You make it sound like we’re supposed to fix all of this on our own.”

Vey shook his head. “Not alone. There are others. The ones we grew up with—Max and Anne. They’re still out there, Neon. And they’d help you with all their heart. You just have to reach out.”

He looked him in the eye. "You don´t always have to do everything alone."

A sharp pang struck Neon’s chest, the ghosts of his past pressing in. Memories clawed their way to the surface—shared scraps of stolen food, whispered dreams of escape, laughter swallowed by the suffocating weight of Nyxia’s grip. Friends he had lost to war. Faces blurred by time and bloodshed. And now, Vey was telling him those two would still be willing to reconcile?

Could he believe that?

Vey took a step back, his entire demeanor shifting, the easy amusement slipping from his face. His body tensed, battle-ready, as his hands reached for his weapons. His fingers traced the cover gently. Then he exhaled, rolling his shoulders like a man about to embrace the inevitable.

“But for now, we need to move. The Architect’s forces won’t wait.”

Neon took a sharp step forward. “What do you mean?”

Vey smirked, but there was steel behind it. “I’ll handle them. They´re my underlings too after all.”

Neon’s eyes widened, a prickle of dread creeping down his spine. “Wait, what? No—we stick together. Like old times.”

“Not this time.” Vey’s grip tightened around his blades. “We´ve both changed, Neon. You two need to get to the Militian ruins... the girl should know the way. They´re planning something big in Militia. Maybe you´d be able to find Origin.”

“The Origin?” Aria’s voice was barely a whisper.

Vey’s expression darkened. “The heart of it all... that´s where you´ll find the Architect. Even I don´t know its location. Try getting to the ruins first, you need to stop them before its too late."

Aria squared her shoulders, her voice steady. “I know the way to the ruins.”

“Good.” Vey glanced at Neon one last time, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “You’re our only hope, Neon. The strongest Nyxian warrior to ever live. And our hero, as always.”

The words cut through Neon like a blade, his body locking in place. Vey had never called him that before. Not once. The weight of it settled into his chest, burning.

“Vey—”

But Vey was already moving. His blades gleamed as he pushed open the door and leapt into the chaos, cutting through the enemies with pure brutality. A blur of motion, a force of destruction. He didn’t hesitate.

“Vey—!”

Neon lunged forward, arm outstretched, his voice raw as it tore from his throat. But it was too late.

Vey was gone.

Swallowed by the clash of steel, by the cries of battle. His laughter lingered for just a moment, a final echo in the storm.

And Neon stood there, fists clenched, heart hammering, knowing this was only the beginning.

"Neon," Aria called out to him from behind, holding his arm gently.

"Let´s go."