Death

Jere twirled, blue wisps spiralling around him as he lined up the next wyvern. Only two remained, and neither had a hope of even thinking about launching a fireball. His capacitors dumped their charge and Jere snapped into existence on the far side of the wyvern - or what had been a wyvern. A firework of red mist was the only sign it had ever existed, rider included.

One left.

Jere’s great wings whistled their haunting melody as he climbed straight up, cutting through the sun and casting a vast shadow over the warring armies below. The last wyvern gave up its attack run and dove - wise, but pointless.

His wings cracked like thunder as he blasted after it, faster and faster. A wyvern at full sprint could reach three to four hundred kilometres per hour. Jere was travelling at one thousand two hundred, skimming just under the speed of sound. His reactor flooded his rattling capacitors with one last surge, blue light engulfing him-

-and then the wyvern vanished, vaporised as Jere passed through it at just below the speed of light and reappeared ahead. He flared his wings, bleeding speed, eyes sweeping the air for any trace of his kill. Only flecks of blood drifted downward, falling like morbid confetti onto the chaos below.

His processors slowed. His thoughts returned.

He’d completed his revenge.

Jere banked in a lazy turn over the battlefield and cast a glance toward the house. It was nearly gone, charred almost to nothing. A shame, but irrelevant now.

Then - Ylfa.

His ion engines screamed to life before he consciously commanded them, hurling him across the lake. He barely slowed before landing, his feet hitting the ground with enough force to shake the earth.

Numbness washed over him.

Ylfa - his wife, his beloved - lay on her back, face turned peacefully toward the sky. Her neck was slit, blood pooled beneath her, seeping into the grass so gently it almost looked serene.

But the truth hit him instantly. She was gone.
Her chest did not rise.
Her body was cooling.
The wound’s bleeding had nearly stopped.

Eny was nowhere to be seen.

Jere’s legs buckled. He dropped to his knees as his mind went blank. No sound reached him. No sensation. Only the sight of her body.

Something clawed up his throat, an ugly, rapid expulsion of air forcing its way free - a sob. Tears blurred his vision, hot and useless, as his thoughts slammed back into motion.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair.
Why did Ylfa have to die?
What sin had she that had been left unpunished?
Why, after everything he had done - after everything he had become - was she still taken?

And then the truth struck him like a blade.

He had failed again.
Failed to protect her.

Another sob tore out of him.

He wanted to speak, to beg her for forgiveness, to tell her he was sorry - but nothing came. No words existed large enough to bridge the void between them now.

Jere rose.

The tears stopped.
His breathing steadied.
His wings unfurled to their full, terrible span.

His processors scrambled wildly, locking onto the only path that made sense.

If the world insisted on taking everything he loved…
…then he would take everything the world had left.

He would scour it clean until the survivors knew nothing except the pain he carried in his chest.

His world narrowed to that single vow.

He launched skyward, arcing over the frozen battlefield. The vents in his wings snapped open fully, the scream of air slicing through the silence so violently that ears bled among those who heard it.

The combat halted instantly.

Jere rolled slowly, descending with a dreadful grace upon the stunned armies.

He would not grant them a quick end - not with a capacitor strike, not with mercy.
No.
He would walk among them.
He would slaughter them on foot, where they could see him coming.

And so, helpless, the combatants watched as the Angel of Death descended.

Jaka opened his eyes.

His mind spun, but that was normal after a crash like that. His processors had completed their reboot and damage sweep - but the first thing he noticed was the silence. Total silence. They were still severed from his thoughts, just as before.

For a heartbeat he felt grateful.

Then the memory hit him.
Eny.

Where was she? She wasn’t in his arms - but she should have been dead. A dead child couldn’t simply get up and wander away.

He pushed himself upright, scanning the cratered ground. Nothing. Dust. Dirt. Wind.

He brushed himself down and retracted his wings; they snapped into his back, still unusable, their processor-controlled systems dormant.

Where was Miro?
Why had she shut down every weapon he had?
Why hadn’t she teleported back to him?

Jaka stood, uneasy - and felt a tap on his shoulder.

He spun, wings half-flaring on instinct, and froze.

A girl stood before him, tall and teenage. Honey-blonde hair. Striking green eyes. Barefoot, in a white summer dress that fluttered in the breeze. Innocent. Familiar.

His mind connected the dots all at once.

Eny smiled brightly.

“You’re awake!”

He stared, unable to process the sight. She giggled.

“What is it? Cat got your tongue?”

Reflexively, he stuck his tongue out to make sure it was still there, then shook his head. She burst into louder laughter.

“No, silly. I meant why weren’t you talking, but that’s okay.”

He continued staring, dumbfounded. Her smile faltered.

“Jaka? You’re scaring me. Say something.”

His mouth opened soundlessly. Twice. Three times. Finally, a word crawled out:

“E–Eny… you…”

She tilted her head. “Yes?”

“You… you’re…”

Her face lit up. “Oh! You’re wondering why I grew up?”

He nodded - thankful she was at least aware of how impossible this was.

“I’ve got no idea!” she said cheerfully. “But I like being taller. It was no fun being so close to the ground all the time.”

He struggled again. Nothing made sense.

“But… didn’t you… die?”

Her brow furrowed. “Did I? I don’t know. I only remember hitting the ground, everything going black, then white, then gold, and then I was awake.”

He pointed at her, struggling for logic.

“Then… did you just get here?”

She shook her head. “Nope! I’ve been up for a little while. Oh, right! I’ve got a present for you!”

His mind stumbled. A gift? For him? Now? With the strongest warrior in the world likely hunting him?

She grinned. “Wait here!”

And vanished.

Not teleported. Not blurred. Gone. As if erased - deleted from existence.

Jaka stood frozen, stunned.

Then Eny reappeared in the same spot, smiling widely.

“Here you go!”

She stepped aside, revealing… nothing. An empty field.

Jaka opened his mouth-

The air blurred.

A figure shimmered into existence. Black bob-cut hair. Matching cat ears and a long swaying tail. A tiny tube top, short shorts, straps criss-crossing her skin like old habits she refused to abandon. Her hand settled on her hip. Her grin was unmistakable.

“Hey, Jaka.”

Relief ripped through him so violently it almost hurt.

“M-Miro…”