Departure: The End of an Era and Beginning of Another

[Zeik]

Zeik didn’t flinch as the shadow of the behemoth consumed him.

Even as the permafrost screamed beneath those thunderous steps. Even as the stench of blood and decay pressed into his lungs like a brand. Even as that voice—ancient and serrated—spoke death not as a threat, but a fact.

He remained still.
A quiet man cradling the storm.

His eyes didn’t meet Akundae’s right away.
Instead, they flicked to Fenri.

Fenri hadn’t moved. But the air around him tensed like a bowstring held just past breaking.
Not fear. No—Zeik knew the taste of that.
This was something far more dangerous: [i]restraint.[i]

The Cristapline didn’t want this battle to happen. Not here.
Not on home soil.

Zeik could feel it—between the bite of his words, Fenri was pleading. He was begging Zeik not to destroy this place.
Not to meet wrath with wrath.

And he was right.

If Zeik unleashed what he had stored beneath his glyphs…
If he unveiled the Archer—his oldest secret, his most guarded sin—
If even one true spell was spoken in anger…

This land would not survive it.

Not the mountains.
Not the rivers.
Not the sky above or the dead buried below.

He looked down briefly at Zero’s unconscious form—chest still rising. Still alive. Still clinging.

Could he give the boy up?
No.
Never.

He’d taught thousands over his lifetime. Some brilliant, some monstrous, some utterly forgettable.
But Zero…

That one had purpose. Not the kind painted in prophecy or whispered in cryptic old tongues—but the kind written into the marrow of a thing.

He couldn’t let him be taken.
Not by War.
Not by this monster who wore death like perfume.

And yet… he couldn’t fight. Not here. Not now.

Zeik exhaled slowly, breath curling like smoke from ancient parchment.

Then Akundae spoke.

The words were a dagger without polish—brutal, vulgar, final.

“Sorcerer.”

You will rise Thunderer.. Or I will kill them all.”

Zeik’s fingers twitched.
Not from fear.
From memory.

That wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t even a challenge. It was
sentence. A decree.

He’d known wrath before. Worn it. Battled it.
He’d felt scorn from kings. Disdain from gods.
But this…

This hatred was… personal.

And that was the one thing that didn’t make sense.

He raised his head slowly, finally allowing his gaze to rest on Akundae’s hollow fire-lit eyes.

“You hate me,” Zeik said softly—more to himself than to the beast.

He stepped forward, slow and steady, boots crunching frost.

“I’ve been on the other end of anger before. Hell… even hatred.”
His lips pulled into something between a smile and a scar.
“But usually… I know the man.”

There was no memory to place him. No past war, no betrayal, no spilled blood between them. And yet Akundae looked at him like a man who had already buried Zeik a thousand times in his mind.

“Why do you hate a man you’ve never met?” Zeik asked, voice cool but now tinged with a quiet curiosity. “What is the purpose of your war? Control? Dominion? Is it really conquest that drives you?”

He took another step forward, eyes narrowing.

“No…”

His tone darkened, sharpened.

“You’re far too angry for this to be about power. Far too \wounded.”

And then, like a tide shifting, Zeik saw it.

Buried in the fury. Coiled in the shadow of war.

The hatred wasn’t just for him.
It was for something bigger. Older.
Something that Zeik represented.

Zeik’s breath caught—not from fear, but from recognition.
He stepped in closer now, just beyond the reach of Akundae’s breath. A moment of silence hung between them like a sword unsheathed. He let the words hang. Not in mockery. Not in condescension. But truth.

Then.

“You will not take him.”

Zeik’s voice no longer wavered.
Not with uncertainty.
Not with anger.
It was final.

“If you try…”

His eyes narrowed.

“I wont harm these people and I will not destroy this land, Fenri's home.”

He paused.

“But I will kill you."

And the snow seemed to still—waiting to see if it was truth, or myth, that had just spoken.

[Zero Venkage]

"Thunderer?" Zero asked, perking up a bit more at the sound of a new nickname he assumed was his to wear. It had a ring to it, a certain flair, an appreciation for his character that only a rumor could build. If only Zero could feel embarrassment for being dragged from the site of an explosions, he might not have been smirking at the 10 foot gorilla elv after falling from Zeik's shoulder. He reeked, like he'd been walking through a battlefield and bathed in the spoils of war for god knows how long. The pain coursing through him like a static, a feedback loop bouncing from the tips of his fingers and coursing through the rest of him couldn't contain his candor.

"That's got a real nice tune to it... To whom do I owe the honor?"

Zero dragged himself to his feet, taking a few deep breaths, every one sending burning pain coiling coming directly from his forearms. From the ends of his fingers until just below his elbows were drenched in a crimson-grey, soot like film. It smothered his extremities, making it hard for him to do much more than clench a fist. He pushed off his knuckles and stood as tall as his exhausted body could bring him, now looking up into the face of the 10 foot Mazoku in its jarring entirety.

"Yikes." The face matched the smell, the energy matched the aura, and the air here matched the air of his and Zeik's last known coordinates. Zero's mind flashed back, painfully, to the last thing he remembered before being brought to Fenri's doorstep who rightfullytook issue with his and the Cursed Flame's intrusion. The feeling wracking his body right now, Death at hand. The oppressive aura they were met with, War incarnate.

"You would hide.. behind the breast of your mate?” His voice was gravely, scratchy.. as if it hadn't been used in centuries for anything other than wrath and fury. “You will rise Thunderer.. Or I will kill them all.”

"I'm not hiding, I'm right here! We just beat one of you like five minutes ago, you're gonna be cake since we're warmed up now!" Zero might as well have been talking to himself, he only half heard Zeik between the ringing in his ears and talking to the beastman with the brushed silver tongue. "Ow."

Zero's normal emotiveness paled in comparison to his pained breaths and strained arm movement. The discomfort that shot through him with every step he took faded once he realized he hadn't moved at all. The Pentagram beneath him, courtesy of his friend, kept him safelt in place behind a wall of ancient Hellgate magic. Zero was surprised for a moment, but looking over at Fenri's gridiron gaze aimed at the Mazoku in front of them and not at Zero for once gave him pause, letting the gravity of their situation settle within him.

Zero looked down at his clenched fists, burning with discomfort, and tried to separate his fingers. Even thr thought caused him pain, and the more he tried to move them, the less they actually moved. They were cauterized stumps bogged down with the same crimson-grey energy the assassin snuffed out his Cordo with before. And then like a breath of air after drowning at sea, the last moments of their battle at the End of the World returned to him.

His heart pounded, the light flashed before his eyes and he recalled their final slash, a giant explosion, and arriving here with Fenri.

He failed to make contact with the Traversing Mirror and had no idea what happened to it. The air was stagnant besides the pungent smell of carnage wafting from the Mazoku. Zero felt a different smell emanating from himself though, the smell of defeat. His scorched hands were their only trophy.

Beyond the pain, he felt nothing from them.

Zero looked over at Fenri again, then at Zeik in front of him jabbering with the Mazoku, and realized he might not actually be a combatant right now, but a trophy. War came for them from across the world when Death had already left a heavy blow on Vescrutia, the results of which still had yet to be seen.

And Zero stood against this new threat defeated, disarmed, dismayed, and detained.

No friggin' way...

[Fenri]

Staring down this behemoth Elv, Fenri scoffed while Zeik made his stand. He had far too much to lose to let the three of them go to blows in front of his establishment, too many people depending on him to turn their lives upside down refereeing this grudge match between deadly rivals. Fenri held a bit of a grudge himself, hating Zero for a number of missteps and transgressions he made the world over that Diamond Dust eventually cleaned up behind him. From Uran to Snakestomb and beyond, even across the Big Blue and on multiple continents, Zero's curiosity often had sweeping metered out to undeserving people; Diamond Dust's charge put them in perfect position to support those affected by his greed. The Cursed Flame and the Speed Demon both appearing at Cold Frontier in front of this adversary heralded an even greater, more sinister paradigm shift.

Fenri stayed quiet. Clearly, openly, brazenly, Akundae came for Zero and Zero alone and Fenri calculated the chances that, if he were the one with custody of Zero, he would turn him over for the sake of global sanctity. They were once friends, or at least comrades, and Zero treated Fenri and the Diamond Dust family well, cooperating easily when it suited him, but his ambition, his near insatiable attraction to hidden tomes and esoteric knowledge often came with a price. Did he expect the whole world to pay for his heedless desire?

[The Bhalian Empire]

The human’s mouth moved—clever, confident, defiant—but it was all wind and dust to him. No different than the hollow bravado the Mazoku had heard from hundreds of thousands of men like him, before their skulls cracked beneath his heel.

Humans.. They were little more than bugs. Insects.
And Akundae did not respond to the howling insect. No, his narrowed gaze never left the boy.

Zero.

He watched him struggling to stand. His shallow breathing. Shoulders twitching with residual pain. The scent of recent battle clung to him—burnt flesh and shattered resolve..

Akundae’s rage simmered beneath his fur, not from hatred, but denial.

He had come for war. For a clash worthy of his legend.
For thunder clashing against blood and bone.

But this? Him?
This was no warrior. This was barely a corpse..

The behemoth’s nostrils flared and a deep, guttural snarl rolled low in his throat, so dense it melted the snow around his feet.

“Weak,” he spat. The word scalded the air. “Broken.”
He stepped forward—slow, deliberate—until his shadow fully blanketed the boy’s slumped form, huddled behind Zeik's pentagram. Akundae’s eyes narrowed further, a flare of crimson embers behind slitted fury.

"Mwoga"
Coward.

The ground trembled from the weight of his voice, like a gavel smashed along Aeon's frozen crust.

Akundae looked at Zero not with mercy—but with fury, tightly leashed by honor. His fists trembled, but it did not rise. To strike now would be cowardice. Desecration. Weakness.

“I will not crush a cripple, but you will not deny me my glory. I will return. I will find you again..”

His words were not a promise. They were a sentence. Judgement. His head tilted back, nostrils flaring.

“And upon my return, I will burn Madeira to its roots.”

Then, his eyes shifted to Zeik.

“..And Muu to its bones.”

Then—to Fenri.

The Cristapline's calm met his fury with silent defiance. No fear. No surrender. Only the quiet pulse of will beneath crystal eyes.

Akundae paused.

Unlike the human vermin or the broken Thunderer, this one possessed blood the Empire might respect. Elven. Magic-born. Warrior-forged. Tainted by his affection for the weak, yes—but not beyond redemption.

Akundae stepped forward once more, his aura pressing against the glyphs like a mountain pressing down on brittle glass. The air itself sang with tension as he leveled his gaze with the Elv.

“You carry blood my Empire would honor.”
His voice lowered. Resonant. Controlled..

“The Thunderer has refused this blessing. So I offer it now—to you.”
He paused..

“Sovereign of Aeon.”
And allowed the weight of the implications to fill the silence. The title rang with weight, ancient and immortal.

“Commander of the Coming World.”

A heartbeat passed. And the silence that followed was thicker than steel.

“Or... the first of your kind I will bring to slaughter.”

His gaze tightened into slits but his final words lingered.
Low. Ominous.

“Choose, Cristapline.”

[Zeik]

Zeik said nothing as Akundae turned away from him, offering Zero his threats and Fenri his ultimatum.

He had expected as much.

Still, something about being so plainly ignored—so utterly dismissed—left a bitter taste in his mouth. Not pain. Not offense. Just… the quiet, sterile aftertaste of disappointment.

So that’s it, he thought, his gaze drifting off into the snow.
Zero stood, barely, shaking off the weight of unconsciousness like a man climbing out of his own grave. Zeik didn’t intervene. The boy wasn’t ready, but he was proud. That pride would pull him to his feet even if his spine rebelled.

Akundae, meanwhile, remained a pillar of Gore and breath—his challenge issue but his loyalty demanded patience? A beast pretending to understand honor.

Zeik turned inward. There was something familiar in the way the ape-Elv moved. The way he bared his chest with every breath, as if trying to convince the world he deserved the space he took up. It reminded him of someone. Someone he had once trusted. Called brother. Someone he now could barely speak of without a snarl tightening behind his teeth.

It was in the posture. The pride without refinement. Strength mistaken for substance.

How exhausting, Zeik mused, his eyes half-lidded. Even his wrath lacks rhythm.

There was no technique. No discipline. Just raw combustion held together by force of will and muscle memory. A tantrum in slow motion. A predator that had long since stopped hunting with precision and now simply trampled the forest to starve its prey.
Zeik snorted softly.

Of course War would choose such a thing to bear its heraldry. This is no champion. Just…a hammer without a handle-Barbaric.
Perfect, he thought, the corner of his lip twitching in dry amusement.

Blind. Loud. Easy to aim and easier to discard. A creature whose fury needed no justification because it had never been taught to ask why. Just a trained weapon.

Zeik wasn’t angry anymore. He wasn’t even cautious.
He was… bored.

It was a strange thing, being bored in the face of annihilation. But that's what Akundae offered after all, that's all the authority ever offered-Shallow entertainment and Hollow Arrogance.

He was just a tantrum wearing skin, hate and scars.
A creature born of fire and forged without purpose—except to burn.

And how convenient that War’s hand would reach for such a shape. It didn’t need to speak to him. Didn’t need to instruct. It only needed to wind him up and point him at something soft.
Zeik didn’t say any of this aloud but his silence always xonveyed more than his voice. Yet, he was done speaking. Done carring.

There was nothing left to debate.
Let the beast roar.
Let the Thunderer fight or fall.
Let the fool offer Fenri the world or the blade.
He was certain of the role he would have to play to win this war.
Overcoming the insurmountable wasnt done with force alone;but, with patience...

And precision.

He turned slightly, eyes lifting toward the clouds, as if searching the sky for something more interesting than the echo of another wasted opportunity.

[Fenri]

Fenri watched Zeik turn away from Akundae with searing disdain and remained quiet. Ofcourse, neither he nore Diamond Dust were involved directly in the tension between Zero and the Mazoku Emperor. Fenri had only gained cursory information on B'halia's departure to the Big Blue to wrest control of new lands for itself, hearing just recently of their voyage. He was unable to prep his team without verified information, but knew one day their march might lead them face to face. He didn’t expect it to be so soon nor in the company of such well established miscreants.

All of their presence at the same time only bode poorly for the fate of the world, but there was a more ominous threat maligning Fenri, one he needed a cool head and sound judgment to navigate.

Akundae stepped forward once more, his aura pressing against the glyphs like a mountain pressing down on brittle glass. The air itself sang with tension as he leveled his gaze with the Elv.

“You carry blood my Empire would honor.”
His voice lowered. Resonant. Controlled..

“The Thunderer has refused this blessing. So I offer it now—to you.”
He paused..

“Sovereign of Aeon.”
And allowed the weight of the implications to fill the silence. The title rang with weight, ancient and immortal.

“Commander of the Coming World.”

A heartbeat passed. And the silence that followed was thicker than steel.

“Or... the first of your kind I will bring to slaughter.”

His gaze tightened into slits but his final words lingered.
Low. Ominous.

“Choose, Cristapline.”

His heart thumped. His eyes narrowed to meet Akundae’s, a frosty glare that froze weaker men in their tracks. Though he could fend for himself on the battlefield, Fenri also represented the house at his back and its members all over the world. Diamond Dust withstood the long history of dynamic change across Vescrutia, a fixture since the Xenophobic Age that the less fortunate around the globe could lean on in times of strife. He represented those who he had yet to meet, those who might one day need to call upon the organization to shoulder their burden. The threat of personal annihilation could have brought them to blows already, but with Diamond Dust relying on him and the world relying on them, Fenri prioritized the legacy and future of the organization above all else.

“Diamond Dust’s influence reaches far beyond Aeon, my wards will not be abandoned. Your generosity extends to wherever our ranks reach, offering refuge from your impending crusade.”

Fenri knew how to negotiate with hostile foreign entities. He stepped forward past Zeik’s turned back and the broken shell of a man he brought with him. On the eve of destruction, he needed only a few guarantees to protect his pack. And now, his pack might become the world. Under his guard, rather than at the behest of the universe’s indifference, he saw an opportunity to grow prosperity for Vescrutia, even if it meant working for the mob. Diamond Dust’s work often put them at odds with various national identities for the sake of the marginalized, there were records during the Xenophobic age of small skirmishes on B’halia itself and Noel’s tribe offered their fealty to the empire as a result.

If only he had time to consult them before making his counteroffer. Fenri was an island, an isolated force staring into the maelstrom of the unknown.

[Zero Venkage]

Akundae looked at Zero not with mercy—but with fury, tightly leashed by honor. His fists trembled, but it did not rise. To strike now would be cowardice. Desecration. Weakness.

“I will not crush a cripple, but you will not deny me my glory. I will return. I will find you again..”

His words were not a promise. They were a sentence. Judgement. His head tilted back, nostrils flaring.

“And upon my return, I will burn Madeira to its roots.”

Then, his eyes shifted to Zeik.

“..And Muu to its bones.”

Then—to Fenri.

...

“You carry blood my Empire would honor.”
His voice lowered. Resonant. Controlled..

“The Thunderer has refused this blessing. So I offer it now—to you.”
He paused..

“Sovereign of Aeon.”
And allowed the weight of the implications to fill the silence. The title rang with weight, ancient and immortal.

“Commander of the Coming World.”

A heartbeat passed. And the silence that followed was thicker than steel.

“Or... the first of your kind I will bring to slaughter.”

His gaze tightened into slits but his final words lingered.
Low. Ominous.

“Choose, Cristapline.”

"At least I know you're an accommodating adversary. It'll make kicking your face in more rewarding."

His eyes were slivered in excruciating pain, but he called forth the fortitude to ridicule the Mazoku like he would any other enemy guaranteeing his demise. Zero tried clenching his fists again, but they merely ached in agony, the crimson veins pulsing under the smoky grey the corruption exuded.

"You can't be serious, Fenri. He's literally a fascist murderer. And oozing with an ancient evil, I know you can smell it!"

Zero spoke to Fenri's sense of reason, how could he lead an organization like Diamond Dust, dedicated to the service of the common man, to consorting with an Empire that completely drove humans from its shores. Then, a flash of clarity washed over Zero, bringing to mind a conversation they shared a while back, some time before The Fall, just before setting out to Uran for the Waves of Horus.

Zero sat at a table in Cold Frontier after training with Lana and they were sharing war stories, tales of interest from common backgrounds in treasure hunting. During their conversation, he mentioned the Waves of Horus and their special ability said to be able to alter time. According to his research, Zero concluded the Waves were also a Reliq du Ven, an ancient artifact crafted from Mistral, and better off in his possession. Fenri, overhearing the conversation and becoming immensely irate, started laying into Zero with a list of reasons why any item even rumored to abilities like those needed to stay where they were found. Fenri, the pragmatist that he always carried himself as, held far more regard for the repercussions of his actions and found himself and Diamond Dust doing damage control in the wake of one of Zero's excursions, so both his age and experience informed his attempts to keep the ambitious imp from causing more harm than good.

Feeling like a Fenri when talking to Fenri had a sort of numbing effect on his hands and his spirit, knowing that he's trying to fraternize with the cosmic enemy before them. Knowing his current state was nowhere near enough to do anything about it added salt to the wound.

"Zeik, we can't let him do this, can we?" Zero asked his turned away friend. The two of them just tried to subdue one threat of the Horsemen and found themselves, or himself, disarmed, literally. With this second coming consecrating the threat of the B'halian Empire to the Jaida Coast and Madeira, now Muu and the rest of the world, adding Fenri to their list of issues along with all of Diamond Dust was not on Zero's bingo card for the apocalypses.

But could he blame the Golden Wolf of Diamond Dust? When faced with a threat that could end Vescrutia itself, one has to make the choices to do the greatest good, right?

Both Zeik and Fenri were more calm and reasonable than Zero considered himself, commanding the respect and admiration of many genuinely good people, not just badass adventurers and powerful warriors. If Fenri saw an option to ally himself with this menacing behemoth, he must have a very good reason.

Disarmed and defeated, Zero had to believe Fenri did, for the sake of the world. The same notion brought Zero and Zeik here in the first place, searching for a new strength that could drive back the Horsemen and the B'halian Empire. Did Fenri know something he or Zeik didn't?

[The Bhalian Empire]

Akundae listened as Fenri spoke not for himself, but for thousands. Perhaps millions stationed at his outposts and wards. All dedicated to the defense of those too weak to fight or fend for themselves in a world that had turned cruel long ago.

It was the monolith upon which he'd established his legacy; that of a savior, a protector. And While Akundae could empathize, his eyes didn’t soften. His aura didn’t flicker. He simply stood still, unmoved by wind, snow, or plea.

When Fenri finished—and his resolve was quietly challenged by the doubt of his own allies—Akundae tilted his head skyward. Slowly. As though his response deserved the reverence of silence.

And then—he spoke.

“One year.”

Concise and sharp

“You will herd your cattle here, to Aeon.. or defend their lands, and perish beside them.”

There was no malice behind his words. No venom. Only inevitability.

He turned then, casting a brief, disdainful glance toward the human —and the slouched figure of the Fae, still struggling to stand.

“...”

Akundae’s jaw clenched. They would have no such luxury.

His blood boiled with the denied thrill of battle. He had come to kill him. To test his reborn strength against a creature of chaos. To claim glory in the death of the Thunderer.

But not like this..

What remained of his conscious mind relented against smearing his legacy, in an impulsive act of violence. He would slay them, both of them.. but restraint and honor would define his glory. Not cowardice. He would see them at the peak of their abilities, and watch them fall with his bare hands closed around their necks.

A low growl rumbled from his chest.. Steam poured from his nostrils, hissing across the snow like a final warning. A final vow.

Then, without another word, he turned his back to them and crouched; muscles coiling beneath his fur like shifting seismic plates..

And then, he leapt.

The frozen crust of Aeon cracked in protest, a ring of snow and vapor erupting outward in a thunderclap as the Mazoku vanished into the heavens—swallowed by stormclouds that hadn’t existed until his fury had summoned them.

Silence reclaimed Aeon thereafter.. But it was not peace.

It was the stillness before the storm. Before Doom, and it loomed like a plague.