Chapter 21: Breaking Points

Three billion souls. Three billion cries that had been silenced beneath the weight of unrelenting agony. A month had passed since Aria cast away secrecy and began her open crusade against humanity. The skies over the Earth bore permanent bruises, painted by the ash and blood of the fallen. Countries fell like dominoes, their leaders helpless to resist her power. She had become a myth made flesh, a goddess of torment, and her name was synonymous with extinction.

In the heart of another fallen city—once a thriving capital on the European continent—buildings now lay in crumbled heaps, their bones stripped by fire and chains. Black spires of flesh and metal twisted into the heavens, torture pylons crafted from broken skyscrapers and the remains of those who once called them home. Screams no longer echoed here; only silence remained.

Aria stood at the center of it all, arms folded behind her back, her expression unreadable. Her previously black hair, now white due to the high mana saturation within her body, billowed against the crimson sky, stained at the ends by blood and soot. She surveyed her handiwork with cold detachment, her deep, crimson eyes reflecting countless sins.

She had perfected it. Every scream, every flinch, every last burst of mana pulled from a suffering soul was a stroke on her canvas. No longer needing her sanctum, she had become the sanctum. Her presence twisted reality wherever she walked.

Elsewhere

Ren walked among the ruins of a different country, following in her wake. His hood was pulled low, but not to hide from others—there were few left. It was to hide from the truth in his own eyes. He had watched her strip away every ounce of mercy, watched her carve the earth with pain, watched her bask in it.

And yet, he couldn’t turn away. Not from her.

He remembered how she looked the day they met—arrogant, sharp-tongued, brilliant. Beautiful. Even then, she had been something otherworldly, unknowable. But now... she was becoming something terrifying. Something divine.

And still, he loved her.

"She’s not lost. Not yet," he whispered to himself, standing amidst the ashes of a schoolyard. Children’s toys were scattered like broken offerings at the feet of a god who did not weep.

He closed his eyes.

"You can’t save her," a voice whispered inside. "You can only follow her into ruin."

He ignored it. He always had.

Later

He found her again on the precipice of her next assault—a coastal city in South Asia. She stood alone, overlooking the sea as if debating whether to boil it for amusement.

"Aria."

She didn’t turn to him, though she clearly heard him.

He stepped closer. "Stop this. Please."

Silence.

"You’ve killed billions. You’ve broken the world. What are you still looking for?"

"Answers," she said simply.

"There won’t be any left to give them to you."

Finally, she turned. Her face was calm, too calm. "Ren. You know as well as I do, they were never the answer. They were in the way."

"You weren’t always like this."

"I always was," she replied, tilting her head slightly. "The difference is, I no longer pretend."

He reached toward her—not with magic, not with violence, but with desperation. "Even if all of this leads you to the Entity, what will be left of you when you get there? And what about the Unseen?"

Something flickered across her face. A tremor in the perfect mask.

She turned away again. "I’ll be ready. That’s what matters."

He stepped beside her. The ocean breeze whispered around them like a ghost.

"I love you," he said.

She didn’t react. Not at first. But for just the smallest moment, her face showed a hint of sadness.

Then: "You shouldn’t."

"But I do. And I’m not going to stop. Not even now. Especially not now."

For a moment, the air between them was heavy. Aria stared into the horizon, something unreadable clenching in her chest.

But she exhaled slowly, and it was gone. "Then you might die with the rest of them, Ren."

She disappeared in a blink, a ripple of power echoing in her wake.