Light shimmered across a slow-moving river, the surface breaking only now and then with the delicate kiss of a drifting leaf or the quicksilver ripple of a hidden fish.
A younger Dawn strolled alongside her father, her hand brushing against his with each step. Their shadows stretched endlessly behind them, long and thin, chasing the fading sun as it dipped lower beyond the hills.
The sunset poured over the world in radiant ribbons—amber, gold, rose—painting the tall grass that lined the trail with a glow that almost seemed to breathe.
Every blade of grass swayed as if nodding them along, caught in a breeze that smelled of river water, wildflowers, and home.
The air was thick with warmth and quiet.
No carriages rumbled by.
No birds called from the distant woods.
Even the river seemed to hush, flowing slowly and heavily, its surface mirroring the sky like a cracked mirror.
It was as if the whole world had stopped to watch them.
A perfect silence. A fragile, golden moment stitched between heartbeats.
Dawn clutched the hem of her sleeve, the fabric worn soft from countless days like this, and glanced up at the tall figure beside her.
Every step felt timeless as if they were walking through the pages of memory already written. It was a small, quiet ritual—shared only between a father and his daughter—as the day faded into something softer.
"Papa…"
Her voice was a whisper, barely louder than the stirring grass.
Her father slowed his steps and turned his head slightly. His smile was warm and endless, touched by the dying light.
"Yes, Dawn?"
Dawn hesitated for a moment; only the soft crunch of their footsteps filled the air, mingling with the lazy whisper of the breeze.
Then—
"Papa…" she said again, her voice smaller this time. "Do you ever get scared?"
Her father slowed, the question catching him mid-step.
He turned, his smile softening into something more profound—almost sad—as he looked out over the river, the water catching the last shards of sunlight like broken glass.
His voice was low when he spoke, carried gently by the wind. "What makes you ask something like that?"
Dawn lagged behind, dragging the toes of her boots through the dirt. The tall grass brushed her sides as if urging her forward.
"Because…" She swallowed, the word thick and trembling. "I am. I've been scared lately."
He stopped completely now, one hand resting lightly on his belt, the other falling to his side. He waited—patient, steady—the way only a father could be.
Scared.
The word clung to her tongue like tar.
"Scared of what?"
She lifted her gaze to him, and the sky behind him was painted molten gold and bleeding reds like even the heavens held their breath for her answer.
"...The God-King."
The name slipped out like a ghost escaping her lungs, thick with dread.
Her father's eyes sharpened. He knelt slowly before her so they were eye to eye.
"The God-King?" he asked, his voice calm but no longer casual.
Dawn's lip quivered.
"The kids at school said... he takes girls away. Girls like me. And they don't ever come back."
The words broke apart near the end, crumbling into small sobs she couldn't hold back.
Her father's expression shifted—grief, anger, something far heavier than the moment could contain—but he masked it almost instantly. His hands found her trembling shoulders, steadying her like roots anchoring a tree.
"I don't want to be taken away," she sobbed. "I want to stay here. With you and Mama. Forever."
"Sweetheart," he murmured, "don't listen to rumors. You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."
"Are you sure…?" she whispered.
He pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. His grip was firm, unbreakable—the kind of embrace that could push back nightmares.
"I promise," he said again, the words vibrating through his chest like a sacred oath. "Even if I'm away... even if my body fails... even if I'm no longer part of this world... my spirit will always be there. Watching you. Guarding you. I'll never leave your side."
The breeze picked up again, stirring the grass and river, but the world around them stayed locked in place—sunset frozen on the horizon, water shimmering without end.
Dawn pulled back just enough to see his face—etched with lines she hadn't noticed before, a weariness he rarely showed. She reached up, her tiny fingers brushing his jawline.
"Don't say things like that, Papa," she said, trying to smile through her tears.
He chuckled low in his throat, ruffling her hair.
"Well, someone has to tell you the truth, right? Besides…" He winked, playful again. "When have I ever broken a promise to you?"
She shook her head hard, sniffling.
"Never."
"Exactly," he said, rising to his feet with a groan of exaggerated old age that made her giggle. He ruffled her hair again. "Now come on. I know Mama has dinner waiting, and you know she makes the best stew when it gets chilly."
"Okay!" Dawn chirped, her laughter chasing away the last of the fear for now.
Hand in hand, they walked down the winding path, the tall grass bowing around them, the river whispering alongside.
As they moved, the sun seemed to dip faster—the colors bleeding deeper, the warmth pulling further away—and somewhere far behind them, unnoticed, the shadows grew longer and darker.
Hand in hand, they walked the river trail, wrapped in the soft hush of twilight. Dawn held tighter to her father's hand, not wanting the moment to end.
"Papa..." she whispered again, but the word unraveled into smoke.
The warmth drained from her fingertips.
The sky fractured.
The river froze mid-current.
The trail beneath her feet crumbled into ash.
And then the world shattered.
Dawn gasped awake.
The cold hit her first—wet stone against her back, smoke in her lungs. Her heart slammed against her ribs, frantic and disoriented, as she stared up at a ceiling barely holding together—a mess of broken steel beams, dangling wires, and sagging concrete.
The dream slipped through her fingers, fading into the smoke above her.
Pain rushed in next. A bruising throb in her ankle. Sharp aches blooming along her ribs. The taste of blood at the back of her throat.
Her fingers twitched weakly against the rubble beneath her.
"Miss—! Please wake up!"
A small, frantic voice broke through the ringing in her ears.
Dawn turned her head slightly, blinking against the dust stinging her eyes. Mera was beside her, tugging desperately at her sleeve.
The girl's face was a blotchy mess of tears and bruises, her scraped hands trembling as she shook Dawn's arm again and again.
"Please... please don't leave me!" Mera sobbed.
"I'm here…" Dawn croaked, forcing the words past the dryness of her throat. "I'm here, Mera..."
The girl collapsed into her side, clinging tightly.
Dawn struggled upright, biting back a groan as the pain screamed through her body.
Stone and rebar littered the ground around them. They had fallen—deep. The light above was a thin, broken thing now, barely filtering through the collapsed floors above.
A low snarl echoed down the corridor.
Deep. Wet. Ravenous.
Dawn snapped her gaze upward—just in time to see a Devil crawl from the debris, its glowing red eyes locking onto her like a predator spotting wounded prey.
"Mera—get behind me!" Dawn hissed.
Her hand fumbled at her side—finding her sword by some miracle. She pulled it free, staggering to her feet as her injured ankle nearly gave out under her weight.
The Devil snarled, crouching low.
More shadows stirred at the edges of the collapsed hallway.
More shapes. More claws. More death.
Pain lanced through Dawn's side as she adjusted her stance. Her ankle screamed every time she shifted weight, but she gritted her teeth.
You survived worse... Move.
"Mera…" she rasped, never taking her eyes off the Devils. "I need you to be brave... When I say run... you run. You don't stop. You don't look back. Straight ahead."
"But what about you—"
"Don't argue. You have to make it. You have to get out. Get to the main entrance."
Tears filled Mera's eyes, but she nodded, clutching Suki—the teddy bear—tight against her chest.
Dawn steadied herself, blade trembling in her hand.
The Devils stalked closer, their red eyes gleaming in the flickering emergency lights.
The corridor felt endless.
Empty.
Hopeless.
But Dawn lifted her sword anyway.
"Now!" she shouted.
Mera bolted, her petite figure disappearing into the haze and wreckage ahead.
Dawn turned to face the Devils—alone.
They didn't charge immediately. They circled, their elemental energy rippling across their bodies in pulses of red and black.
Waiting.
Toying with her.
Drawing out the fear.
Dawn didn't wait. Adrenaline shot through her veins. She let out a fierce cry and pushed herself forward—pain lancing through every step, every breath.
Her sword slashed once—twice—clean cuts meant to buy time, meant to survive just a little longer.
But her ankle buckled.
The world tilted.
A stone column erupted from the ground, slamming into her side and flinging her back.
She hit the floor with a brutal crash, the sword skidding from her hand.
Dawn gasped, her lungs clawing for air. Her body screamed at her to move—but she couldn't.
The world spun, darker now, the only light the glimmer of flames rising at the far end of the corridor.
The Devils gathered. One let loose a torrent of fire that roared down the hall—fast. Dawn lay there, staring up at it, unable to move.
So this is it... The end.
A tear slipped down her cheek, warm against the cold settling into her bones.
Mama… Papa… I'm sorry...
Her chest tightened, not from fear but from release—the kind that came with surrender. She imagined her mother's arms around her, the scent of lavender and rain.
Her father's laughter as he would hum some old tune as he tucked her in. She could almost hear it now.
I'll finally see them again, but as long as Mera is safe... I'm okay with that...
She couldn't move. Her body was screaming in pain, her limbs numb, her ankle throbbing in rhythm with her heartbeat.
The heat from the flames licked at her skin as it roared closer. Every instinct in her told her to run—but she couldn't.
You always promised to watch over me, Papa,I hope you're still watching... I hope you're proud...
She closed her eyes and waited for the flames to take her.
Even if I'm away... even if my body fails... even if I'm no longer part of this world... my spirit will always be there.Watching you. Guarding you. I'll never leave your side.
The memory struck like lightning, her father's voice, and then came a flash of light.
She closed her eyes. Waiting for the fire to take her. But it didn't.
Instead, there was the sound of two shields slamming down, the crash of metal, and the sudden, biting scent of scorched air and burning dust.
BOOM.
Dawn opened her eyes.
Two shimmering shields stood between her and the wall of flame, the barriers crackling and hissing as the fire battered against them.
Behind them—
"Theo… David...?" she rasped.
Theo grinned, arms shaking as he dug his heels into the ground. "Nice to see you too."
David nodded, sweat drenching his forehead. "You picked one hell of a time for heroics."
The Devils in the corridor growled. Another surge of elemental energy built behind them—stronger this time.
"Cover them!" Curtis shouted from farther down the hall.
Curtis, Bryce, and Arthur stormed in, shields raised, forming a second wall in front of Theo and David.
"Get her out of here!" Curtis barked.
Theo and David didn't hesitate.
Dawn barely had time to react as they hauled her up, pulling her arms over their shoulders. Her body screamed with every jolt, but she gritted her teeth and held on.
Behind them, the world turned into a furnace. Curtis, Bryce, and Arthur's shields began to wear down. Cracks spidered across them, splintering under pressure for the elemental barrage.
Curtis snarled. "Don't give up, you two! Hold the line!"
Then came a voice like thunder.
"Boys! MOVE!" Benny roared.
Benny's warning arrived just in time. The trio dove away as the shields finally shattered. Before the flames could hit, a cool, blue, and precise wave of water poured down the hallway
The water collided with the fire, and steam exploded through the hallway in a thick, blinding, sizzling hiss.
Isabella stepped forward, hands raised in a graceful arc.
From within the steam, glowing red eyes streaked forward.
FWIP.
Tana launched fire spears that pierced through the haze, striking the Devils cleanly between their eyes. Each impact triggered a miniature explosion, detonating their skulls into shards.
One by one, the creatures fell, lifeless and burning.
Dawn felt herself lowered gently against a wall, away from the fight.
David crouched, examining her ankle. "It's sprained. It could've been worse. You got lucky, Dawn."
Theo frowned. "Sprained? Can we fix it?"
David rolled his eyes. "You don't just 'fix' a sprain, idiot. It's not a damn toy. It takes time to heal."
"Who are you calling an idiot?"
"You, if the shoe fits."
"...Not now, you two..." Dawn whimpered.
The tears came freely then—hot, messy, unstoppable.
"I'm just... I'm just glad you're both okay..." she sobbed. "...Thank you for saving me..."
Without thinking, she reached out and pulled them both into a trembling hug.
The world stopped again momentarily—not in perfect peace like the river trail—but in messy, broken relief.
Theo stiffened, caught off guard.
David blinked, awkward and frozen.
Then, slowly, they leaned in.
"We're just glad we made it in time," Theo muttered.
David nodded, resting a steady hand on her back. "We wouldn't have left you."
Tears continued to spill freely down Dawn's cheeks as the three sat there, bruised but alive.
Curtis, Arthur, and Bryce jogged over, their faces lit with exhaustion and relieved grins.
"Dawn, great work! You saved her!" Curtis shouted with a smile.
"You saved her!" Arthur added, nodding toward Mera, now safe in the distance, as Benny scolded her for running off.
"You're a total badass, Dawn!" Bryce said with a thumbs-up.
Isabella approached the group alongside Tana and knelt beside Dawn, uncorking a vial of silvery-blue water. She carefully applied it to her ankle using Dyna to ease the swelling.
"You held your own, Dawn," she said softly. "I'm proud of you. Proud of all of you."
Dawn sniffled, but a shaky smile bloomed through the tears.
Across the rubble-strewn hall, Mera peeked out from behind Benny's leg, still clutching the teddy bear.
Safe.
Alive.
And for the first time since the Iron Fortress fell, Dawn allowed herself to believe—maybe they would be, too.
Beyond the shattered walls of the Iron Fortress, the world still burned. Smoke coiled through the blackened trees like wounded serpents.
Once green and solid, the ground split into molten dirt and cracked stone scars.
The fires hadn't died yet. Orange light flickered against the underbrush, casting long, broken shadows across the battlefield's remains.
Pop stood near the ruined perimeter, his chest heaving, his sword hanging loose in his grip. Sweat and blood mingled in the dust on his face. His body ached down to the marrow.
Beside him, Evaughn stood like a living monolith, the faint glow of Dyna still bleeding from the cracks in his knuckles.
A wind stirred, sharp and cold.
Pop tilted his head, listening.
It was quiet.
No more Devils rushed from the treeline. No more elemental blasts shook the ground.
Just the crackle of burning timber... and the distant wails of a dying forest.
A sudden snarl shattered the silence.
Pop didn't even flinch.
Evaughn turned, moving like a storm compressed into flesh. His fist, still coated with volcanic energy, slammed into the lunging Devil's skull with brutal finality.
BOOM.
The creature's head exploded like rotten fruit. Its body hit the ground, twitching once before going still.
Evaughn wiped the blood from his hand, exhaling slowly.
"That should be the last of them," he said.
Pop sheathed his sword with a grunt, stretching his arms overhead until his joints popped.
"You really saved our asses back there. Remind me to never piss you off," Pop muttered, glancing at Evaughn.
He slapped Pop's back hard enough to nearly knock him forward with a chuckle. "I'm amazing. I know."
Pop chuckled dryly, rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. Big damn hero."
Evaughn's grin faded a little, though. His gaze drifted toward the smoking ruin of the Fortress.
"...How'd you even know we needed help?" Pop asked.
Evaughn folded his arms. His voice lost its joking edge.
"I didn't. Tana and I were heading this way when we spotted the fires from afar."
Pop blinked, frowning. "Wait... Tana's here too?"
Evaughn nodded once. "She should be inside the Fortress."
Pop whistled low under his breath, looking back at the crumbling building. "I just figured we had a goddamn miracle. Still... you got here fast. It's a full day's ride from the base."
Evaughn's mouth twisted into something halfway between a smile and a grimace. "We never made it to the base."
Pop stiffened, sensing something heavier coming.
"Nozomu sent us a Whisper," Evaughn said quietly. "Back in Nageama. Right after we helped the townsfolk settle in."
Pop narrowed his eyes. "Before anything even happened?"
"I'm assuming." Evaughn nodded. "He told us something felt wrong. He said to move out immediately. Regroup here."
Pop stared at him, caught between disbelief and grudging admiration.
"That bastard..." he muttered, shaking his head. "He's always ten steps ahead."
Evaughn cracked his knuckles again, the last magma fading from his fist.
"Speaking of him..." He squinted into the smoky distance, scanning the treeline.
"Where the hell is he?"
Pop followed his gaze. The battlefield stretched before them, littered with smoldering bodies and shattered earth—but no sign of their Commander.
"No clue," Pop said. "Your guess is as good as mine."
Evaughn grunted. "Tch. Typical."
He turned, surveying the burning forest around them, the fires still clawing at the sky. The flames licked higher, the smoke thickening, choking the last of the stars from view.
"We need to put this out before it burns what's left of the forest," Evaughn said.
Pop nodded grimly. "Yeah."
Together, they moved toward the edge of the battlefield—where the fire crackled loudest, where the wind felt sharpest.
But in the pit of Pop's gut, something heavier sat.
Nozomu's absence wasn't an accident. It wasn't a coincidence. It was a choice. And whatever he had gone to face…
It was bigger than the Devils.
Bigger than fire.