The clock struck 02:58. The silence of the dawn in District 7 was cut only by the voices of people and the cold wind that blew between the crystal buildings.

  They were positioned behind a black marble column, a few meters from the guardhouse of Point B. Riku adjusted the collar of his luxury suit, feeling the fine fabric against his skin. It seemed an absurd contrast: they wore gala clothes, as if they were about to enter a ballroom, but their looks were those of predators ready for the strike. Ayane, at his side, looked like a vision of lethal elegance; her impeccably cut dress hid the tension of every muscle.

  — Remember, Riku — she whispered, her voice almost fading in the wind. — No flames. No laments. If a single spark of Kael’Zhorun appears, the alarms will sound. Today, we are just two elite guests who "lost their way" to the main party.

  Riku nodded, taking a deep breath. He felt Kael stirring under his skin, like a volcano contained by a glass lid.

  — This is an insult to my nature, vessel...— grumbled the demon. — Crawling like a rat while we wear silk...

  — Silence, Kael— Riku countered mentally. — Today, strength is our secret, not our weapon.

  3:00

  The signal was given. The two guards finishing their shift left the guardhouse, yawning and exchanging a few words about fatigue. The replacements were exactly forty-five seconds away, coming up the internal elevator of the post.

  — Now — commanded Ayane.

  They moved. Riku didn't run; he glided with the precision Ayane had taught him. Without using the demon's powers, he relied only on his trained body. As the guards turned to put their rifles on the rack, Riku and Ayane crossed the open perimeter.

  Ayane approached the first guard from behind. Before he could notice her expensive perfume or her presence, she applied a precise strike to the carotid artery. He collapsed silently into her arms. Riku, in the same second, intercepted the second guard. He didn't use his fists; he used a technical arm-lock, blocking the man's breath until his eyes rolled and he lost consciousness.

  Everything lasted less than ten seconds. No broken bones, no screaming, no energy discharge.

  — Fast, the terminal — said Ayane, dragging the guards' bodies near a bush.

  Riku took the access card from one of the men's belts and swiped it through the side biometric reader. The light turned green. The heavy door that gave access to the Central Tower service corridors slid with a hydraulic sigh.

  They entered, and the door closed behind them exactly five seconds before the new guards arrived at the post.

  Inside, the environment changed. The air was colder, smelling of ozone and chemicals. The muffled sound of an orchestra came from the upper floors — Renji's "show" must have been starting for the VIP guests, while, on the lower levels, Project N.N. awaited its activation.

  — We're in — murmured Riku, wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead. — Where to now, Ayane? To Morozumi's lab?

  Ayane looked at the cargo elevator control panel.

  — If we go to the lab, we can try to sabotage the system. But if Hideo is already synchronized... The environment in the service corridors was glacial, an antithesis to the human warmth Riku and Ayane had shared hours before. The metallic sound of their steps echoed discretely as they advanced toward the underground laboratories, but upon reaching the first internal security barrier, they encountered a problem: a heavy titanium alloy door with a military-grade encryption scanner. It wasn't a common reader; it required a Universal Key Card possessed only by high-ranking security or directors.

  Ayane stopped before the panel, the red light of the scanner reflecting in her calculating eyes. She looked at Riku, adjusting her earring.

  — The basement plan ends here without that key — she whispered, her voice now coated in the coldness of the Aquila agent. — And if we try to force entry with the demons, every alarm in this building will scream our name. We have to change the approach.

  She pointed upward, toward the muffled sound of the orchestra filtering through the ceiling.

  — The party up there isn't just a spectacle of vanity; it's where the power holders are circulating right now. A security captain or a high-ranking officer of Renji Takamura will surely have the card. Amidst the luxury, the noise of the music, and the arrogance of the elite, they relax. It's much easier to isolate a prey in a noisy herd than down here, where every shadow is watched.

  Riku nodded, understanding the perverse logic of District 7. They took the camouflaged service elevator and went up to the Gala Hall level.

  Upon crossing the main hall doors, they were hit by an explosion of opulence. The ceiling was a crystal vault displaying the starry sky, and the polished obsidian floor reflected the lights of the chandeliers that seemed to float in the air. Hundreds of guests, dressed in fabrics that cost fortunes, circulated with champagne glasses.

  Riku and Ayane walked with confidence, his suit and her dress serving as the perfect camouflage. They looked like two young aristocrats on a night of celebration, but their eyes scanned the crowd for a specific target.

  — There — Ayane indicated with a slight chin movement, while accepting a glass from a waiter. — Near the east balcony. Captain Marcus Vane. He is the head of the Tower's external guard, but today he's here to display his new insignia. He has the Universal Card attached to his inner belt.

  Marcus was a robust man, with a face marked by combat scars, but who now seemed bored and slightly altered by alcohol, laughing at the unfunny jokes of a group of military lobbyists.

  — The strategy is simple — Ayane murmured to Riku, approaching him as if they were sharing a romantic secret. — I will distract the group. I'll use Aquila's influence to lure them into a conversation about the mercenary market. When I give the signal, you lead him to the smoking area or the side corridors. There, you can be "aggressive." No fire, Riku. Use his joints against him. Extract the card and any access codes he knows about Hideo's chamber.

  Riku felt the adrenaline rise. He looked at Marcus and then at Ayane. The idea of facing an elite captain in the middle of a party was insane, but it was the only way to prevent the Tower from becoming their tomb.

  — Understood — Riku replied, adjusting his cufflinks. — I'll ensure he cooperates... in a way he won't forget, but that no one in the hall will notice.

  Ayane gave a predatory smile and began moving through the crowd with the elegance of a silk serpent, going straight to meet Marcus. Riku followed her from a distance, positioning himself in the shadows of a crystal column, waiting for the exact moment when the "prey" would separate from the group.

  Ayane entered Marcus's circle with disconcerting ease, throwing a shrewd comment about the ballistics of the new armors that immediately hooked the captain's ego. Riku watched Marcus's behavior change; he was fascinated by Ayane's presence.

  Minutes later, Ayane made a discrete sign: a light touch on the eagle pendant. She suggested to the captain that they needed a more "private" place to discuss certain contract opportunities that Aquila could offer only to him.

  Marcus, thinking it was his lucky day, excused himself from the lobbyists and followed Ayane toward one of the side corridors leading to a private winter garden.

  Riku glided through the shadows, flanking them. As soon as they crossed the acoustic door, the sound of the party died.

  Captain Marcus Vane, still with the smug smile of someone who thought they would have a lucky night, had no time to react. In a movement that was a blur of black silk and lethal precision, Riku emerged from the shadows behind him.

  With a perfect immobilization technique, Riku wrapped the captain's neck with his arm, while the other hand locked Marcus's shoulder at an angle that made any resistance an immediate agony. The dry crack of the shoulder joint being pressed to the limit echoed in the silent corridor.

  Riku brought his mouth close to the captain's ear. His voice was no longer that of the shy youth from the hotel, nor the boy from District 9. It was cold, devoid of hesitation, carried by the silent authority of one who has already accepted chaos.

  — No screaming, Captain — Riku whispered, the pressure in his arm increasing millimetrically. — If you try to call someone, or if your breathing rhythm changes because of a lie, I will apply the necessary torque. Do you know the sound glass makes when it breaks under pressure? That's what will happen to the bones in your neck.

  Marcus tried to babble something, but Riku's grip was surgical, preventing full speech but allowing cooperation. Ayane watched everything with arms crossed, staying at the corridor entrance, her gaze vigilant for any movement in the ballroom.

  — The Universal Key Card. Now — ordered Riku, feeling the man's cold sweat against his arm. — And the verbal access code to Hideo's chamber. Don't make me ask twice. I don't have my partner's patience.

  The captain, feeling that death was a sudden move away, trembled. He pointed with a shaky finger to the inner pocket of his military gala suit. Riku, with a free hand, felt the fabric and extracted the silver card with the tower emblem shining under the dim light.

  — The code... — Marcus choked, the voice coming out like a wheeze. — The code is... "Prometheus 0-7". Please... I just follow orders...

  Riku looked at Ayane, who nodded.

  — He's telling the truth, vessel — Kael’Zhorun purred, savoring the man's fear. — The smell of his terror is genuine. Finish this before he starts crying.

  Riku didn't kill him. He applied specific pressure to a nerve point at the base of the captain's skull, making Marcus pass out instantly. The man's body became heavy in Riku's arms, and he placed him silently behind some ornamental plants in the winter garden, where he wouldn't be found until the end of the party.

  Riku stood up and cleaned his suit, recovering his posture. He held the universal card between his fingers.

  — We have what we need — said Riku, looking at Ayane. — "Prometheus 0-7". It seems Doctor Morozumi sees himself as the god who stole fire.

  Ayane approached, checking the corridor.

  — And we are his punishment. Let's go, Riku. Time is running out. Now that we have the card, we can go straight to the core.

  The sound of the orchestra stopped abruptly, replaced by a heavy silence that made the hair on the back of Riku's neck stand up. When they crossed the threshold of the winter garden, returning to the hall, the warm golden lighting had changed to a cobalt blue tone, cold and surgical.

  On the central stage, under a blinding spotlight, Renji Takamura was standing. He held a cut crystal glass and wore a white silk smoking jacket that stood him out like a beacon of arrogance in the darkness. He didn't seem surprised; he looked like a theater director watching his actors enter the stage at the exact moment of the cue.

  — Ladies and gentlemen, I ask for a minute of your precious attention! — Renji's voice, amplified by the tower's sound system, resonated with crystal clarity. — Many ask me why District 7 is the pinnacle of civilization. They say we are sloppy, that our security has flaws... such as, for example, leaving a guardhouse with a forty-five-second window during shift changes.

  He released a short, melodious laugh, looking directly at the column where Riku and Ayane tried to hide.

  — But the truth is that District 7 doesn't make mistakes. We create opportunities. Why would I prevent the entry of my guests of honor? Why would I deprive this audience of the true protagonists of the night? — He extended his arm toward them. — Ayane, the medical doctor and last survivor of the Eagle Claws... and young Riku, the unforeseen vessel. Please, don't be shy! The show was built entirely for you.

  The whole hall turned. Hundreds of elite faces, now with expressions of morbid curiosity, watched the "luxury couple" who had just been unmasked. Ayane squeezed Riku's arm, her expression hardening as she realized the depth of the trap. Renji had never been careless; he had been a master of puppets.

  — And to test our greatest achievement — Renji continued, his voice growing in enthusiasm — I couldn't use static targets. Project N.N. deserves something real. It deserves the conflict of wills!

  From the opposite side of the stage, a man walked into the light. It was Hideo. He was immense, a mountain of muscle and scars that told the story of decades of violence. At 49, his face was a map of survival, and his eyes had the opaque shine of one who no longer saw life as something sacred.

  Hideo stopped before the microphone, his voice coming out grave, like stones being crushed.

  — Project N.N. is not a weapon — said Hideo, looking at his own calloused hands. — It's an evolution. For years, I felt my body fail, age betray me. But this essence... it doesn't ask permission. It demands. It gives me the right to be what men only dream of being: a god of iron and fury.

  As soon as he finished speaking, a mechanical roar shook the floor. In the center of the stage, the obsidian floor opened in a perfect circle. A platform rose, bringing with it a structure that seemed to have been forged in the heart of hell itself.

  The Project N.N. armor was a mass of black organic metal, matte and angular. Remnants of crimson and blue energy crackled around it, like exposed nerves that couldn't find rest. There were no visible screws or joints; it looked like a synthetic skin made to contain an explosion.

  Hideo walked toward the armor. As soon as he touched the chest piece, the metal liquefied into shadowy tentacles that wrapped him with terrifying violence. It was as if the armor were devouring him. The sound of bones adjusting and metal fusing echoed through the hall, making some guests retreat.

  When the process finished, the figure before them was no longer human. The armor's helmet closed, revealing an ocular slit that glowed with an unstable and hungry light.

  — THE FEELING... IS DIVINE... — Hideo's voice was now distorted, metallic, vibrating with an aggressiveness that made the hall's windows tremble. — RIKU... AYANE... DOCTOR MOROZUMI SAID YOU ARE "SPECIAL." LET'S SEE IF YOUR BLOOD HAS THE SAME COLOR AS THE OTHERS I CRUSHED!

  Stolen story; please report.

  Hideo took a step forward, and the floor under his metal foot cracked. The energy around him began to distort the hall's very light, creating a vacuum effect.

  Riku stopped hiding. With a slow and deliberate movement, he broke away from the protection of the columns, walking toward the stage under Renji's greedy gaze and the shocked silence of the elite. The luxury suit, which had served as camouflage, now seemed only a restriction for what was about to explode.

  — Enough playing spy — said Riku, his voice cutting through the sound of Hideo's unstable energy. — You wanted a show, Renji? Then these cowards in the audience better have good life insurance. Because we're finishing this now.

  Beside him, Ayane assumed her combat stance. The air around them began to distort.

  In a flash of black and crimson light, the demonic armors manifested. Riku was enveloped by the flames and solids of Kael’Zhorun, while Ayane became a silhouette of steel and silver laments under the influence of Morrvhael. The spiritual pressure was so sudden that the crystal chandeliers above them shattered, raining shards over the guests who screamed in panic.

  Hideo, inside the metallic mass of Project N.N., roared. He jumped from the stage with the force of a meteor, colliding against the marble floor and creating a shockwave that threw tables and guests toward the walls.

  The battle that followed wasn't an exchange of blows, it was a natural disaster contained in a ballroom.

  Hideo moved with an impossible speed for his size, each punch firing jets of dark energy that melted the steel of the beams. Riku intercepted one of these blows with his flaming gauntlet, and the impact was so violent that the floor under his feet gave way, creating a crater. Ayane, moving like a phantom of mercury, flanked Hideo, delivering energy cuts that resonated with the sound of a thousand crying voices, trying to find a gap in the black armor.

  — YOU ARE JUST LEFTOVERS FROM A DEAD ERA! — Hideo's distorted voice echoed, as he grabbed Riku by the neck and drove him through a tempered glass wall, taking the fight to the external balconies, hundreds of meters high.

  Shards, demonic fire, and silver laments turned the luxurious hall into a war scenario. Guests who weren't fast enough to flee were hit by debris or by the heavy spiritual radiation emanating from the confrontation.

  Renji Takamura, still on stage, watched everything with an ecstatic smile, even when a flaming beam fell a few meters from him. To him, the blood spilled on the expensive carpet was just the ink of his masterpiece.

  Riku was the vanguard, the shield of black flames. He received the devastating impacts from Hideo, feeling his ribs crack under Kael’Zhorun's armor, but returned each blow with double the fury. Ayane was the lethal specter; she moved in Hideo's blind spots, her Morrvhael claws leaving trails of silver light that corroded Project N.N.'s organic metal.

  The teamwork was surgical. Riku locked Hideo's right arm in a strength hold, ignoring the dark energy jets that burned his chest, while Ayane executed a transverse cut that ripped off part of the giant's shoulder protection. Hideo roared, an electronic and guttural sound, falling to his knees. The black armor pulsed erratically, expelling a kind of smoke. For a brief second, the silence of defeat hung over the stage.

  — Now, Riku! — Ayane shouted, preparing the mercy blow.

  But the air didn't cool, it ignited.

  — What a magnificent spectacle — Renji Takamura's voice cut through the chaos, but it no longer came from the stage. It came from above. — Really, Project N.N. surpassed my expectations in resistance, but in tactical performance... it is still a rough diamond. Too rough, I would say.

  Without prior warning, a column of vivid fire, of an orange so intense it blinded, descended from the ceiling, separating the combatants. Renji was no longer in a smoking jacket. He was wrapped in his own demonic armor, the manifestation of the Flame Demon, an entity of pure heat and cruel elegance. Unlike Hideo's brute mass or Riku's solid ruin, Renji's armor seemed made of solid sunlight, with aerodynamic lines that suggested divine speed.

  He landed softly between the stumbling Hideo and the exhausted duo. The heat emanating from him was so high that the remaining crystal glasses in the hall simply melted, turning into puddles of liquid glass.

  — Hideo, you were useful for collecting data — Renji said, without looking back, while his armor's flames danced like serpents. — But it's evident that the synchronization system fails under extreme pressure. You are slow, predictable. Project N.N. needs adjustments... improvements that only real conflict against other wielders can provide.

  Renji raised his flaming gloved hand, and the spiritual pressure in the hall tripled, making Ayane take a step back from the pain in her lungs.

  — Now — Renji continued, his eyes glowing through the golden slit of his helmet — I'm joining the party. I want to feel the texture of Ruin and Lament with my own hands. Consider this a privilege: you will be the fuel for evolution.

  Riku positioned himself in front of Ayane, the armor's arm trembling from the effort, but his eyes fixed on the new opponent. The game had changed. They were no longer facing a prototype; they were facing the master of ceremonies of hell.

  The air at the top of the Central Tower was no longer oxygen; it was a dense plasma of hate and spiritual energy. The fight turned into a chaotic ballet of destruction. Riku and Ayane moved as an extension of each other, a dance of shadows and black flames that defied logic. Renji, wrapped in his solar flame armor, glided through the battlefield with sadistic elegance, firing fire blasts that turned the marble into lava under his feet.

  — LOOK AT YOU! — Hideo roared, his voice distorted by Project N.N.'s organic metal as he threw himself back into the fray. The giant refused to be a mere spectator of his own obsolescence. — I AM THE PINNACLE! I AM NOT A RESEARCH DATA POINT, RENJI! I AM THE HAMMER THAT WILL BREAK THESE TWO!

  Hideo attacked with blind fury, his heavy fists creating pressure vacuums that exploded against Riku's defense. The young wielder of Ruin blocked, counter-attacked, and spun, feeling Renji's heat licking his back while Ayane's blades whizzed beside him, maintaining the necessary distance.

  — You are noisy, Hideo, but you lack... refinement — Renji mocked, moving with a speed that left fire after-images. He appeared suddenly before Riku, his palm glowing with an incandescent white.

  The blow hit the chest plate of Riku's armor. It wasn't just a physical impact; it was a thermal detonation. The sound was like thunder inside a glass bell. Riku was thrown backward, passing through three structural columns before crashing against the reinforced core wall. His senses failed. The ringing in his ears drowned out Kael’Zhorun's screams in his mind. He tried to get up, but the world spun, and the sight of his cracked armor was the last thing he saw before partial darkness took over.

  — RIKU! — Ayane's cry cut through the hall, carried by a despair she never allowed to show.

  But the cry was her mistake. The mistake Renji was waiting for.

  — Never take your eyes off the sun, dear doctor — Renji whispered, already positioning himself.

  Hideo, seeing the opportunity to prove his worth, roared in sync. The giant jumped, carrying all the dark mass of Project N.N. in a downward strike, while Renji channeled a concentrated fire arc in the shape of a spear. It was a pincer attack, perfectly coordinated by the cruelty of the moment.

  Ayane, still focused on where Riku had fallen, tried to invoke Morrvhael's Lament to create a shield, but Hideo's energy destabilized her frequency. Hideo's blow crushed her lateral defense, breaking the silver light guard, and before she could recover her balance, Renji's fire spear crossed the space.

  The sound that followed was wet and terrible.

  Morrvhael's armor didn't fail, but the human body under it didn't have the same resistance. Renji's attack was surgical, hitting Ayane at a point where the demonic armor was thinner due to constant effort. The heat passed through the fabric and skin, hitting vital organs Ayane was thrown to the ground, sliding over the marble until she stopped near the center of the hall. The silver armor began to flicker, like a lamp about to burn out, revealing the woman's pale and bloody face. Morrvhael released a howl of agony that was not of metal, but of pure loss.

  Renji landed softly, his armor's flames diminishing to a hypnotic glow. Hideo stopped beside him, panting, his black armor sparking.

  — A lethal blow — Renji observed, with clinical calm, as he walked toward Ayane's fallen form. — Not on the demon, of course. Morrvhael will survive to be harvested. But the wielder... flowers wither so fast under real heat, don't they?

  Riku, leaning against the debris, tasted blood in his mouth. His vision began to clear exactly when he saw Ayane's motionless body and the trail of silver and red blood on the floor. The silence that fell over the hall was suffocating.

  — SEE, RENJI! — Hideo exclaimed, pointing at Ayane. — I BROKE HER! PROJECT N.N. IS SUPERIOR!

  Riku didn't hear Hideo's provocations. He didn't hear Renji's stifled laugh. He heard only the silence of the Lament that had gone quiet. Inside him, something that was not just Kael’Zhorun — something that was Riku himself — broke. The lullaby he had sung to her the night before echoed in his mind like a distorted war cry.

  Riku stood up slowly. The black flame armor began to leak a dense smoke that didn't rise but crawled along the floor like living shadows. His eyes, behind the helmet, glowed with a light that didn't belong to this world.

  Renji, with a slow and disdainful movement, ripped from the back of Ayane's fallen form her cloak — the binding object where Morrvhael's essence resided. He held it like a trophy, while the cloak lost its shine, like a dying star.

  Riku didn't scream. The silence emanating from him was more terrifying than any explosion. With a surge of contained fury, he launched himself between Renji and Hideo. It wasn't an attack to kill, but a physical repudiation. His flames expanded in a shock dome, forcing the Takamura heir and the iron giant to retreat several meters.

  — Stay... away... from her — Riku's voice vibrated, charged with a demonic static that made the walls tremble.

  He deactivated his armor. The black metal retreated into the ring, revealing the youth in a torn suit, eyes red from dust and tears. He knelt beside Ayane. She no longer had Morrvhael's protection; she was just a woman, fragile and mortal, lying on the blood that stained the obsidian floor.

  Riku slid his hand under her head, bringing her to his lap with a delicacy that seemed impossible in the middle of that war scenario.

  — Ayane... Hey, look at me. I'm going to get you out of here — Riku whispered, his voice failing. — You said you would fetch me from the beyond if I died, remember? You can't break the promise.

  Ayane opened her eyes slowly. The sharp vivacity of her gray eyes was fading, becoming a soft mist. She coughed, a streak of blood running from the corner of her mouth, but her expression wasn't one of pain. It was a sudden and terrible peace.

  — Riku... — she began, her voice so low he had to lean in to hear. — Don't... don't lose your heart to the fire. I taught you to be a warrior... not a monster. District 9... it needs your light, not your destruction.

  She reached out a shaky hand, touching Riku's face. The heat of her skin was fading, but the touch was the most human he had ever felt.

  — Thank you for... for the music — she smiled, a small and real smile, free from Aquila's weight. — You made me remember... that there was still beauty... even here.

  Her breathing became short, shallow. Ayane's gaze began to wander, losing focus on the present and diving into memories she had kept under lock and key. Riku's image, under the bluish light and the tower's sparks, seemed to transform before her eyes. She no longer saw the young apprentice from District 9.

  — You came back... — she whispered, her voice suddenly sweet, like that of a young woman in love. — I knew you would come for me... my love...

  A glow of pure happiness lit her face as she looked at Riku, seeing in him the man she had lost so long ago, the reason for all her mourning.

  — It's okay now... — she murmured, closing her eyes as the last breath left her lips. — Let's go... home...

  Her hand slipped from Riku's face and fell heavily onto the marble. The smile remained, fixed and icy, on a face that finally no longer carried the weight of the world.

  Riku remained motionless. Her body in his arms seemed to weigh tons. The silence that followed in the hall was absolute, interrupted only by the rhythmic sound of Renji's flames and the short circuits of Hideo's armor.

  Renji Takamura watched the scene from above, wrapping Morrvhael's cloak around his arm with a sick pleasure.

  — What a touching ending — Renji said, his voice echoing with cruel coldness. — She died in a delusion, confusing trash with a ghost. But now that the "Lament" has gone quiet, Riku... what remains of "Ruin"?

  Riku placed Ayane's body on the cold marble with a reverence that seemed sacred. His movements were slow, almost mechanical. As his hands pulled away from her skin, which was already beginning to lose vital heat, tears opened clear furrows in the young man's face, dirty with ash and soot. In the core of his consciousness, something unprecedented happened: Kael’Zhorun's incessant roar ceased, giving way to a low, vibrating lament. The demon, an entity of pure destruction, felt the agony of its vessel. For the first time in ages, Ruin wept.

  But the mourning lasted only for the time of one last breath. When Riku stood up, the sadness in his eyes was consumed by a wildfire of absolute hate. He didn't look at Renji or Hideo; he looked at his own hands, which still kept the trail of Ayane's blood.

  — She tried... — Riku began, his voice coming out low, but carrying a pressure that made Renji's flames flicker. — She spent every second trying to remind me that I was still human. She gave me affection, gave me a purpose that wasn't just killing. For a moment... I believed her. I forgot that this world is a dumping ground of egos and rot.

  He raised his face, and the expression of pain had been replaced by a mask of glacial fury.

  — I forgot what it was like to see the light leave my sister Akane's eyes. I forgot that, for humans like you, life is just a bargaining chip. Ayane wanted me to be human... but you only left me one option.

  The onyx ring on Riku's finger began to crack, emitting a sound of glass being crushed. His hate and Kael's became a single destructive frequency. The air around Riku began to implode.

  — If humanity is what makes us weak enough to be trampled by worms like you... — Riku clenched his fist, and an aura of solid darkness enveloped him — ...then I will be its executioner once and for all.

  The youth and the demon screamed in perfect synchrony, a single voice that echoed through the foundations of the Central Tower, making most of the walls burst into dust:

  — ZAN!

  The transformation wasn't a flash of light, but an eclipse. Kael’Zhorun's black armor didn't just appear; it exploded from Riku's body, but this time it was different. The organic metal became coarse, with overlapping plates that looked like the scales of an abyssal dragon. Irregular and sharp spikes sprouted from the shoulders, elbows, and joints, designed to tear flesh and grind steel. The helmet no longer had human features; it was an iron jaw ready to devour, with ocular slits that expelled continuous crimson smoke.

  This was the Complete Zan Mode: Absolute Ruin

  Riku took a step forward, and the floor didn't just crack; it pulverized. The spiritual pressure was so dense that the guests who were still trying to flee fell to their knees, unable to breathe. Renji Takamura, for the first time that night, took a step back, the arrogance in his face, giving way to an instinctive caution. Hideo, inside Project N.N., felt his warning instincts scream in a high pitch of panic.

  — I WILL TEAR EVERY PIECE OF METAL AND FLESH FROM YOU— Riku’s voice was now a distorted thunder, emanating directly from the armor. — I WILL MAKE YOU FEEL THE WEIGHT OF THE SILENCE YOU LEFT IN HER PLACE!

  With a sonic boom, Riku disappeared. He didn't run; he became a projectile of hate. Before Hideo could raise his guard, Riku’s coarse claw closed against the chest plate of Project N.N., digging the spikes deep into the metallic alloy.

  — YOU... ARE THE FIRST!

  His strikes against Project N.N. were not mere attacks; they were death sentences. Each of Riku's punches sank Hideo’s organic metal as if it were clay, ripping off armor plates and exposing the veteran's exhausted flesh.

  — GET OUT OF MY WAY, WORM!— roared Riku’s distorted voice, a sound that seemed to come from a throat full of embers.

  Renji Takamura, realizing that the boy's fury had broken any predicted power scale, had no choice. His eyes shone with an unbearable gold and he also bellowed the command word:

  — ZAN!

  Renji's armor transformed into an armor of liquid solar flames, more slender and radiant, emitting heat waves that caused oxygen to spontaneously combust. He launched himself against Riku in a blur of light. The collision between the Black Ruin and the Sun of Takamura generated an explosion that swept away what remained of the hall's furniture, turning everything into ashes in seconds.

  Riku was hit. Renji’s flames melted parts of his cuirass and Hideo’s energy blasts pierced his shoulders, but the boy didn't even stagger. The hate for having seen Ayane die, the pain of being the vessel of a cyclical tragedy, fed Kael’Zhorun. Physical pain was the fuel. He grabbed Hideo’s helmet with one hand and, with the other, delivered a sequence of punches that shattered the Project N.N. helm, revealing the giant's terrified face beneath the metal.

  — DIE! DIE! DIE!— Riku screamed, his sanity draining away like the blood from his wounds.

  At the peak of Hideo’s execution, the deafening sound of propellers cutting through the heavy air appeared. A heavy combat helicopter hovered dangerously close to the destroyed balcony. In the open door, Doctor Morozumi, the architect of that nightmare, appeared with an expression of clinical panic.

  — STOP! — shouted the scientist through the loudspeaker. — Renji, the core of Project N.N. is entering critical collapse! If it is destroyed now, ten years of research will turn to ashes! Get out of there with the prototype immediately! It is a board order!

  Renji snorted, his armor’s heat diminishing as he looked at Hideo’s deplorable state. He knew Morozumi was right; the project was too valuable to be lost in a fit of rage. With feline agility, Renji kicked Riku’s chest to create distance, grabbed Hideo by the remains of his armor, and jumped toward the aircraft.

  Before boarding, Renji looked back at the monster Riku had become. With a cruel smile, he raised the hand holding Ayane's Cloak, where Morrvhael’s essence still pulsed weakly, and threw it into the helicopter, into Morozumi's greedy hands.

  — Consider this your consolation prize! — Renji shouted over the noise of the turbines. — The fight isn't over, Riku! Next time we meet, I'll ensure you join your master in the nothingness. Enjoy your new world!

  The helicopter tilted and left at high speed, disappearing into the toxic mist of District 7.

  Riku stood still in the center of the ruin. The silence that followed was worse than the noise of the fight. He looked at Ayane’s body, lying motionless, untouched by the battle because of the dome of hate he had created around her. She seemed only to be sleeping, an angelic contrast to the horror around.

  The departure of his targets did not calm the monster. On the contrary. Riku’s hate, now without a clear target, overflowed to everything that remained. He looked at the bright lights of District 7, at the elite civilians running through the streets below like frightened ants.

  — ROTTEN... COWARDLY... HUMANS...— Riku’s voice, fused with Kael'Zhorun’s, became a beast's roar.

  He jumped from the Central Tower.

  The three-hundred-meter fall ended in a crater in the center of the main square. Riku rose from the cracked ground like a demon out of the abyss. He no longer sought justice; he sought extinction. With the claws of Zan Mode, he began to tear apart anyone who crossed his path. He smashed through armored vehicles with his shoulder, ripped apart guards and civilians with brutal movements, turning the "perfect city" into a slaughterhouse.

  Buildings began to crumble under the touch of his flames. District 7, the pride of civilization, was being burned by a boy who only wanted to have heard his own name on the lips of the woman he loved before she left. The hate for humanity grew with every scream he silenced with his own hands.

  He crossed the central square, where Kael’Zhorun’s claws extended like obsidian whips, splitting in half the luxury vehicles trying to escape. Civilians in gala attire, whose only concerns hours before were the shine of their jewelry, were harvested by the hate of a young man who had lost everything. Riku didn't just use fire; he used brute force. He crushed skulls against glass walls, pierced chests with bare hands, and left a trail of viscera and twisted metal wherever he went. With every silenced scream, the void inside him grew, fed by the demon that roared in ecstasy. District 7 was not just in flames; it was being chewed by Ruin.

  When the last voice went silent and the morbid silence, interrupted only by the crackling of the fires, took over the deserted streets, Riku’s hate began to drain, leaving behind a fatigue that weighed more than the armor itself. Zan Mode slowly receded, the metal plates merging back into the ring, revealing a Riku covered in ashes and blood that was not his own.

  He walked back to the carcass of the Central Tower. He climbed the broken marble steps, passing through bodies until he reached the destroyed ballroom. There, in the center of all that desolation, Ayane remained. Fate or the rest of her will seemed to have protected her body from every spark and debris.

  Riku fell to his knees beside her. The crying came like a repressed torrent, violent sobs shaking his wounded chest. He took her in his arms, the body now light and cold, and walked away from that cursed tower. He took her to a small suspended garden on the outskirts of the district, one of the few places where real grass still grew under the moonlight, far from the mechanical opulence she hated so much.

  With his wounded hands, he dug the damp earth. He used no powers, no tools; he felt every handful of soil, as if that physical effort were his final penance. When the grave was ready, he laid her gently on the bed of earth and wildflowers.

  Before covering her, Riku leaned in and kissed Ayane’s forehead, feeling the final softness of her skin.

  — You told me to be a man, Ayane... but the world you left me has no place for men, only for monsters and ghosts — he whispered, his voice broken, eyes fixed on the peaceful smile she still wore. — You confused my face with the one you loved, and perhaps that was your only mercy: to die thinking your hell had ended. But mine is only beginning.

  He reached out and, with trembling fingers, removed the Aquila brooch she always carried. The cold metal shone under the moonlight.

  — I will keep this. Not as a symbol of your order, but as the weight of what I couldn't protect. I will hunt Renji. I will hunt Morozumi. And when I'm finished, nothing will remain of this city to tell our story. Rest, master. The lament is over... now, only ruin remains.

  Riku finished covering her. Every handful of earth was a final goodbye. When the small mound formed, he put the brooch in his pocket, near his own chest, and stood up. He did not look back. The young man Ayane tried to save had died in that grave along with her. What came out of that garden was only the vessel of Ruin.

  The path between the black smoke rising from District 7 and the gates of District 6 was a journey of absolute silence, interrupted only by the sound of Riku’s boots. He walked with his body bent by the weight of wounds. The Aquila brooch, kept in his inner pocket, seemed to pulse against his chest, a cold reminder that he was, for the first time, truly alone.

  Inside his mind, Kael’Zhorun’s fire did not roar. It only crackled, like embers of a bonfire that was about to go out.

  — She is gone, vessel... — Kael’s voice appeared, but it didn't have the usual mockery. It was low, almost melancholy. — That woman's lament has silenced for good. It's a strange kind of void left in the air.

  Riku clenched his fists, feeling the blood crack on his knuckles.

  — You feel it too, don't you, Kael? Don't lie to me. I saw you cry through my tears back at the tower.

  The demon released a short laugh, but without the poison from before. There was a sigh of mental smoke.

  — I am Ruin, boy. I devour worlds and erase lineages. But... I admit. I think I spent too much time watching the world through your mortal eyes. Your emotions are contagious, like a disease. Seeing that female fall... it wasn't like seeing an empire crumble. It was as if a part of my own fire cooled.

  Riku stopped for a second, looking at the horizon where the lights of District 6 began to shine.

  — She believed I could be human. She died believing that.

  — Perhaps that's why I feel this weight — continued Kael. — She wasn't just an obstacle or an ally. She was the anchor that prevented you from becoming me completely. Now that she's gone, I should be happy about it... but this silence is irritating. I think I'll miss her scolding about your "lack of technique."

  Riku sketched a bitter smile, the first since the massacre.

  — Yeah. Me too, Kael. Me too.

  They continued the march. The luxury of District 7 was left behind, transformed into a cemetery that would serve as a warning to the whole world. Ahead, the walls of District 6 rose. It was a sector known for heavy commerce, black market technology, and for being a refuge for mercenaries.

  Riku stopped before the main checkpoint. His luxury clothes were in rags, stained with silver and red blood. His look was that of a man who had already seen the end of the world and decided it wasn't enough.

  The searchlights of District 6 swept over his lonely figure. Riku placed his hand over Ayane's brooch, feeling the tip of the metal lightly pierce his skin. Revenge now had an address, and he had just reached the starting point.

  — We are here, Kael — whispered Riku.

  — Yes...— responded the demon, his voice regaining its sharp and dangerous tone. — Let the shadows begin.