Silence.
Not peace.
Not mercy.
The silence of a world dying.
The battlefield was gone.
The cities were gone.
The oceans were gone.
Only ruins remained —
floating shards of a broken sky,
drifting islands of stone spinning in an endless abyss.
At the center of it all,
two souls stood.
Asura.
Arin.
Opposites.
Reflections.
Ruins.
Arin swayed, barely upright.
Her armor was shattered.
Her sword was cracked.
Her Light Sigil flickered in and out,
the last heartbeat of a dying star.
Asura stood across from her.
A black crown of broken wings hovered above his head —
forged not from gold,
but from silence.
The Abyssal Genesis Ritual roared behind him,
tearing apart the last foundations of the old world.
But for this moment,
he stood still.
Waiting.
Watching.
Arin lifted her broken sword.
Not to threaten.
Not to attack.
Just to show she still could.
They faced each other across the ruins.
The last king.
The last knight.
The last dreamers of a world that was already dead.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
The silence between them stretched —
heavy, suffocating, almost sacred.
Then Asura's voice cut through the void.
Low.
Calm.
Heavy with something deeper than hate.
Regret.
"You should have run."
Arin coughed blood into her hand,
then smiled —
a broken, defiant smile.
"There's nowhere left to run."
Asura tilted his head.
Almost curious.
"Why stand?
You know you cannot win."
Arin closed her eyes for a moment.
Felt the broken world spinning beneath her feet.
Felt the weight of a thousand lost dreams on her shoulders.
When she opened her eyes again,
they burned brighter than any star.
"Because even if we die…
Even if this world burns…
Even if no one remembers…
We fought.
We stood.
We did not kneel."
A faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through Asura's expression.
A flicker.
A fracture.
Gone before it could be named.
The System whispered in his mind:
[Final Obstacle Remaining.]
[Recommended Action: Eradication.]
[Abyssal Genesis Restructure: 74% Complete.]
He ignored it.
Slowly, Asura lifted his hand.
Shadows coiled around his fingers like living things.
The crown above his head pulsed once —
a heartbeat of pure oblivion.
Arin tightened her grip on her sword.
Every nerve screamed.
Every breath was agony.
But still she stood.
Because even if light dies —
it dies facing the darkness.
Asura spoke one last time.
Soft.
Final.
"Goodbye, Arin."
Arin smiled through bloodied lips.
Whispered back:
"Goodbye, Kai."
And then the abyss roared.
And the final battle began.