THE FALL

Piercing screams tore through the night, drowned beneath the roar of an inferno that devoured the city.
The sky burned crimson — a thousand homes collapsing into ash as chaos swallowed everything.

Monsters swarmed the streets.

From the smoke, two figures emerged — a man and a woman — their silhouettes warped by the heat. They walked slowly through the blaze, their footsteps echoing like whispers from hell.

At the end of the street, atop a small hill, stood a grand palace. Its marble spires gleamed faintly beneath the blood-red sky.

“Stop!”

The figures turned toward the voice.

A man stumbled into view, his clothes scorched and his breath ragged. He clutched a circular device, trembling.

Then — light erupted.

A radiant blue fire engulfed him. His tattered garments shimmered, reforming into gleaming armor. His hair lifted, pinned back by sparks of magic. From his back, a pair of intricate, crystalline wings unfurled, scattering embers like stars.

“Tch. You Celestials never know when to give up,” the woman hissed.

The man raised a staff in his shaking hands. Flames burst from its tip, roaring toward the intruders in a brilliant flare.

The blast struck — but the male figure blocked it effortlessly, the fire curling harmlessly against his palm.

Exhausted, the Celestial collapsed to his knees.

The woman stepped forward, her skeletal hand cupping his face almost tenderly.
“Valiant effort,” she murmured, voice dripping with mockery. “Unfortunately… not valiant enough.”

An icy glow flared in her eyes.

Frost crept over the man’s flesh, cracking along his wings. His breath hitched — then stopped.
Within seconds, he was frozen solid.
With a flick of her wrist, she shattered him into glittering shards.

Inside the palace, a lady in a red cloak raced down the golden corridors, dragging a small boy by the hand and cradling a baby in her arms.

The air was thick with smoke. Flames licked the tapestries.
“Come on — just a little further,” she urged, voice trembling.

Behind them, the great doors thundered — the two figures had arrived.

The lady spun around, eyes narrowing.
A torrent of flame shot from the male’s palm.

But a crimson barrier flared before her, a cape shielding her from the blast.

“Ren”
“Asahime, go! I’ll take care of them!” the voice commanded.

She hesitated only for a second before running again, clutching her children tighter. She didn’t look back.

Ren stepped forward, In one motion, he threw off his cloak. Beneath it, his crimson armor glinting through the smoke. His wings unfurled in a blaze of gold and scarlet. With a flash, he summoned his sword — a weapon of pure flame.

For a heartbeat, even the intruders faltered.

“Well, well,” the woman sneered. “How nice of you to drop by, Your Majesty.”
Ren’s eyes narrowed. “Get out of my kingdom.”

He lunged forward, sword blazing.
But the male caught the blade with his beastly hand.

Ren barely had time to react before the enemy’s fist slammed into his chest, sending him skidding back across the marble.

A low growl rumbled from the man’s throat. His body contorted as shadow consumed him.
When it faded, a towering wolf-like beast stood in his place — fur gleaming purple under the firelight.

The creature snarled, and Ren steadied himself.

The beast lunged, claws rending the air with a sound like tearing metal. Ren barely dodged, rolling across the scorched cobblestones, his blade singing as it cut through the smoke.

The beast countered, swiping with claws that left trails of violet sparks until the ground itself began to fracture beneath them.

Ren swung again, faster this time, aiming for the heart of the wolf — but the female stepped forward, flicking her hand. A wave of frost erupted, freezing the ground beneath his feet.

With a roar, he pushed through, summoning a surge of light that splintered the ice. He struck the wolf squarely, sending it crashing against the palace steps.

For a moment, silence fell — broken only by the crackling of distant flames.

Ren rose, chest heaving, wings trembling. The beast stirred — slower this time, but its eyes burned brighter. The male companion had shifted again, his form cloaked in a dark haze.

“Aww… seems like the mighty King has fallen,” the woman said with a tilted head and a cruel smile. “Goodbye, Your Highness.”

Ren’s jaw tightened. He took a step forward, summoning every ounce of his strength for one final strike—

At the cliff’s base lay a narrow cave. The Asahime darted inside, dragging her children until they reached a dead end.

Setting the baby down, she handed a crystal to the boy.
She drew an arc in the air, and a veil of light shimmered into existence — a portal.

They stepped forward, hand in hand.

Then — a crash. Magic tore through the cavern walls. The two figures had found them.

The Asahime raised her hand, summoning a gust of wind to push them back.

“Sora, listen to me,” she said, voice breaking. “You must go through that portal with your sister — now!”
“Mom, no! I’m not leaving you!”
“Promise me you’ll look out for your sister.”

The Asahime looked into her son’s eyes, tears glimmering.

“I… I promise,” the boy stammered.

“Enough of these foolish games,” a third voice snarled.

The Asahime gasped as a dark beam tore through her back.

“No!”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered weakly. With a final push, she hurled the children through the portal. The boy screamed, reaching back — but his voice faded as the light dissolved.

The Asahime turned to face the intruders. Three figures stood before her now.

The newcomer — the third figure — tossed something onto the ground. A lifeless body.
Ren.

“What a foolish effort,” the third figure sneered.

The Asahime’s grief hardened into defiance.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said. “Our fight may be over… but our hope carries on.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile.
“I hope that scares you. I hope it haunts you for a thousand years.”

“And yet, hope cannot save you,” the third figure said coldly. “Rōjin. Hebiko. Finish it.”

The cave grew frigid. Frost crept along the walls.

The Asahime closed her eyes and whispered,
“May the light be my guide.”

Ice engulfed her.
Rōjin raised his claws — and shattered her.

The third figure turned, gazing toward the burning kingdom below.

That night, a kingdom died — and a legend was born.