Unmovable Force

The air was too still.

Not even a crow circled above Ashvale’s clearing.

Then Lykos’ voice cut through it.

“Forward!”

The rebels surged. Boots slammed into cracked earth, spears out, blades flashing. Crystalor soldiers scrambled, shields snapping up as the two sides clashed at the edge of the village.

Steel clanged. Shouts erupted. The battlefield was chaos in a heartbeat.

Rokuro sprinted with the front line, gauntlet glowing faint purple.

The golem’s arm came down.

BOOM!

The ground split open, rebels flying like ragdolls.

Rokuro staggered, grit in his teeth. “What the hell—thing hits like a truck!”

Kagi dashed past, blade blazing violet. “Focus! Don’t fall behind!”

“Wasn’t planning to!” Rokuro shot back, forcing his legs forward.

Another scream cut the air—Crystalor steel claiming a rebel.

Nero was a blur, twin daggers flashing too fast to follow. A slash to the knee, another to the throat—he was gone before the soldier even hit the ground.

Selka stood her ground, hands weaving fast. Sparks spun into glowing orbs and streaked across the square. Each one hit home, bursting in crackling blasts that sent soldiers flying.

And at the very front—Lykos.

His spear carved wide arcs, shields snapping, armor splitting. Every thrust landed like thunder, every strike shaking the Crystalor line. Calm face, precise form—yet the sheer weight of his blows left the rebels roaring behind him.

And above it all—

The golem.

Its chest shard pulsed, rattling the air. Even veterans flinched.

Rokuro gritted his teeth. A Crystalor guard rushed him, blade flashing.

The first swing—dodged.

The second—parried with the gauntlet.

For a second, he almost looked like he knew what he was doing.

“Heh—training’s paying off!”

The third strike came too fast. Too clean.

Steel kissed his arm, blood welling hot.

“Tch—dammit! Spoke too fast…”

The soldier pressed harder, sword and shield moving in perfect sync, driving Rokuro back step by step. His form cracked. His chest heaved.

He couldn’t win with technique.

So he didn’t bother.

He lunged. Shoulder to gut. The guard staggered. Rokuro grabbed armor, slammed his forehead into the man’s nose followed by a loud crack.

The soldier reeled—still on his feet. His shield smashed forward, forcing Rokuro back again.

Rokuro ducked low, hooked the man’s arm, and heaved with raw, ugly strength.

“RAAAAAAH!”

The soldier lost balance.

WHAM!

He slammed into the dirt so hard the ground shook.

Rokuro spat dust, grinning.

“Not so tough on your back, huh?”

“How can you throw these guys like that?” Nero raised a brow, as he blocked a blow with his dagger, and retaliated with two fast slashes, “Their armor weighs a ton!”

“It does?” Rokuro shrugged, “I don’t know.”

The battlefield was already chaos—steel clashing, rebels shouting, Selka’s Aether bolts cracking like fireworks—

but the golem…

The golem was something else.

When its arms came down or swiped across it, bodies flew like dolls.

“Shit—!” Nero darted aside, daggers flashing, barely staying ahead of the blast.

Selka’s voice rose over the din, panicked: “That shard’s feeding it directly! That thing’s stronger than anything I’ve ever—!”

The golem moved again. Its fist tore through a half-ruined building, stone exploding into shrapnel. The weight of it shook the air.

“Unreal…” one rebel gasped.

And then—Lykos.

He didn’t hesitate.

Spear braced in both hands, he charged.

Rokuro’s eyes widened. Damn—he’s going head-on?!

Steel met stone. Sparks burst—like fireworks in the night.

“Go, Commander!” a rebel shouted.

“For Emberhold!”

Every strike he landed thundered, forcing the golem a step back. One, two, three—spear jabs like lightning, precision born from years of discipline.

For a breath, just one breath, the rebels saw it.

The monster faltering.

Lykos driving it back.

“…He’s—he’s holding it—!” Rokuro gawked at the sight. The unmovable force suddenly felt more reachable.

“Hey, he’s not the Warden’s right hand man for nothing!” Selka boasted, grinning.

But then the golem’s chest pulsed. Its massive fist shot forward faster than the eye could see.

“Lykos—!” Nero shouted—too late.

The impact was brutal.

The spear snapped like a twig, and Lykos’ body went flying. He smashed into the side of a collapsed house, wood splintering, dust swallowing him whole.

The rebels froze.

A single silence fell across the field, louder than any roar.

“No way…” a rebel whispered, “If even Lykos—”

“We’re doomed.”

Weapons lowered. Morale broke. The rebels were dealt a blow that wasn’t easy to get up from.

“Damn it!” Selka’s hands shook, her next spell flickering out mid-cast. Even Nero’s grin was gone, jaw tight, eyes locked on the crater.

“What just…” Rokuro gaped at the hole Lykos’s crash had opened up at a nearby building.

“He’s out of the fight.” Kagi gritted her teeth, “This doesn’t look good…”

The unshakable general of Emberhold—flattened in a single blow.

The weight of it crashed down on them all.

Rokuro felt it. The hopelessness. They were outnumbered and outclassed. And this golem… was simply unstoppable.

No. He had to try. He couldn’t just give up. If the golem’s magic was the same as Kagi’s then that meant it was the same as his gauntlet as well…

He only had to land a hit!

“Kagi.” Rokuro turned, “Can you distract it?”

Kagi raised a brow, as she blocked a blow with her keyblade and her key shots sent a guard to his knees.

“I think so.”

“Then…” Rokuro gritted his teeth, his punch against the gauntlet sending purple particles in the air.

“Don’t you try anything reckless too!” Nero barked, as he kept on fighting.

“Reckless? Me?” Rokuro grinned.

Kagi didn’t hesitate. She darted forward, blade flashing violet arcs, every strike sparking against the golem’s blackened hide. She weaved between its legs, dashing, slashing, vanishing in short bursts of light—forcing its attention on her.

The shard in its chest pulsed, each beat rattling the air.

The golem’s head followed her. Slowly. Deliberately.

Selka’s voice rang out, panicked, her hands already weaving new sigils. “Rokuro, don’t! That shard isn’t something you can just smash—it’s feeding it! You’ll get killed!”

“I’ll take my chances!” Rokuro shouted back. His chest burned as the gauntlet flared, light crawling up his arm like fire. Every step he took toward the monster felt like moving against a storm. His pulse roared louder than the battlefield.

“C’mon… just one clean hit—!”

He leapt forward, fist reared back. The gauntlet blazed purple-white, every ounce of will pouring into that single swing.

BOOM!

His knuckles crashed against the shard.

For half a heartbeat—

Nothing.

No crack. No shatter. Not even a flicker.

Again… Again his hit didn’t even faze his enemy…

Rokuro’s eyes widened. “Why in the hell—!”

The golem’s massive hand clamped around his throat. The world snapped sideways as his feet left the ground.

“Roku!” Kagi’s voice tore across the chaos.

And then the monster swung.

CRASH!

Rokuro’s body slammed through the roof of a stone house, wood beams snapping like twigs. Dust erupted into the air, swallowing the impact.

The battlefield froze. Even hardened rebels flinched.

“…He—he just got swatted like—like nothing…” one whispered.

“Damn it, you reckless fool!” Nero spat.

“Nero can we even… beat that thing?” Selka’s voice trembled besides him.

And much to his despair, Nero couldn’t come up with an answer.

The hopelessness was complete.

Lykos down.

Rokuro gone.

And the golem still standing, completely and utterly unscathed.

The golem turned its head, the shard in its chest pulsing stronger—mocking, almost.

But Kagi didn’t move toward the rubble. She didn’t run. She darted forward. Her blade flashed violet arcs as she slashed across the golem’s arm, its massive swing crashing against her keyblade with bone-rattling force.

“Damn it, girl!” Nero barked. “Forget the thing—go check if he’s still breathing!”

Kagi’s eyes narrowed, every word steady despite the strain in her arms.

“He’s alive.”

“What?!” Selka nearly dropped her spell.

Kagi shoved the golem’s strike aside, blinking away in a streak of violet before countering with a slash that sparked uselessly against its chest. Her tone never wavered.

“I can feel it. His energy. Faint—but it’s there. He’s not done. He never is.”

The rebels stared, stunned. Some looked at her like she was mad. Others… like they almost wanted to believe her.

Even Nero faltered, eyes narrowing at her back.

“You really think—” Selka started.

“I don’t think.” Kagi’s voice was sharp as her blade, her hair whipping as she spun aside from another crushing blow. “I know him. He’s the kind that refuses to stay down. He’ll get up.”

He always does.

For a moment, silence.

The golem’s next swing shook the earth. Kagi blinked aside, her blade scraping across its armor with sparks. The impact jolted her to the bone, but she didn’t falter. She couldn’t. She was breathing hard now, the strain of the fight catching up to her.

Of course she was worried.

Her chest burned with the urge to turn—run to where Rokuro had fallen. What if he was broken? What if he wasn’t breathing?

But she forced the thought down.

No. Not yet. If I go… who holds the line? Who keeps them alive until he comes back? Who keeps fighting like he would?

Her blade clashed against the golem’s arm, sliding back as its weight pressed her into the dirt. Her mind flickered—back to the clearing, when Crystalor blades had surrounded her, and Rokuro had stepped in front. Bruised. Shaking. But grinning like an idiot, fists raised.

“If you don't want your ear bitten off by this kid, don’t come any closer.”

Kagi wanted to laugh remembering the absurdity of his words.

“You never knew when to back down,” she whispered through clenched teeth, sparks flying as her blade caught another blow. “Even when it was the stupidest thing you could do… you stood up.”

But a part of that personality of his made her look at Rokuro in a new light from that day onwards. Because if somebody as powerless as him could get up time and again after getting beaten down…

Then that was someone Kagi would gladly follow.

Because despite the odds. Despite the pain. Rokuro always stood back up. Even when he couldn’t win. Even when he shouldn’t. Somehow… he made it happen.

And it wasn’t fate. It wasn’t her nature as a Key. It was her choice—her own choice—to believe in something reckless, yet hopeful.

The golem roared, swinging again. Kagi blinked out of its reach, reappearing behind it, slashing bright arcs of violet that burst across its shoulder. The wound barely smoked—but she didn’t stop. The golem turned aggressively, attempting to swat her away. Its fist caught her a little, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

You don’t give up, Roku. Not then. Not now. I know you’ll get up again… so hurry.

Her chest tightened, not from the strain of battle now but from something heavier, sharper.

I’ll be waiting. And when you stand… I’ll be here, fighting.

She planted her blade, violet light flaring like a beacon, standing firm between the monster and the stunned rebels.

Because if Rokuro wasn’t here she had to fight at his place.