The silver chains trembled in the sky, humming like a choir of blades.
Eron pushed against them, veins bulging, teeth bared, eyes burning with madness. But the chains only tightened. They weren’t metal. They weren’t magic in the way mortals knew. They were Vyn herself—her anger, her judgment, her will made form.
Her voice broke across the ruined horizon, colder than ice. "You’ve taken enough from me. From all of us."
The chains snapped downward.
Eron slammed into the ground with a thunderclap. Stone split, flames flared, dust rose high—but the chains didn’t break. They pinned him like a beast, their glow searing against his flesh. He roared, the air shattering with raw sound, black fire spilling from his body as he forced himself upright.
"Don’t talk to me about taking!" His eyes glared up at her, bloodshot, wild. "That brat Lucian made me what I am. Don’t you dare blame me for tearing it apart!"
Vyn’s eyes narrowed, their silver glow cold enough to cut. Her voice cracked like glass. "You made yourself what you are."
The chains flared brighter, twisting, wrapping tighter. Eron’s body contorted, his knees digging into shattered stone. He fought back, dark lightning bursting from his chest, his magic spilling outward in chaotic storms that would’ve erased cities.
But Vyn was already there.
Her other hand rose, and the storms bent around her fingers like strings. She snapped them with a flick. The black lightning dissolved into harmless sparks, sucked into the silver haze burning at her back.
Her chest heaved once. Not from exhaustion—rage. Years of it, dammed and buried, now boiling to the surface.
"You think I forgot?" she whispered, though the whole sector heard her. "The families you slaughtered. The gates you opened. The hunters you betrayed." Her voice sharpened with every word. "The nights Reia cried because of you. The days I picked up your mess while you drowned the world in blood. You left us all in ruins. And now—"
Her silver aura exploded.
The sky screamed. Clouds tore apart. The red glow vanished, drowned by searing white light that burned from her body like a second sun. Chains of light multiplied, splitting into hundreds, thousands, each one stretching across the sector and hammering into the ground like divine judgment.
Eron staggered under the storm, arms raised in desperation, magic roaring out of him in black floods. His energy clashed with hers, tearing the air apart in violent bursts, each shockwave flattening mountains in the distance.
But Vyn didn’t give ground.
Her hair whipped wildly, her cloak tearing in the gale. She pressed forward, both hands raised, her aura pushing down like the weight of a world. The chains tightened again, binding Eron until his body was half-crushed against the earth, his fire sputtering against her ocean.
She dropped both arms.
The ground cratered beneath him. The chains drove deeper, carving into his body, each strike a searing wound that glowed silver. He screamed, blood spraying, magic flaring in chaotic bursts that burned the air.
Still he fought. He tore chains with brute force, his body glowing with dark veins as he unleashed everything he had left. One broke, then another. He staggered to his feet, coughing blood, his chest heaving. His grin flickered back through the madness.
"You can’t stop me, girl. Not me. Not ever. I’ll crawl through hell itself if it means reaching him!"
He thrust his arms outward, black fire lancing in every direction, rivers of destruction carving the ground into trenches. The city folded again, reality itself warping under the force of his desperation.
Vyn’s eyes burned brighter.
She opened her hands wide.
The rivers froze. The fire unraveled. Every shred of his power bent backward and collapsed into her palm, condensed into a single sphere of black and silver light. The effort ripped the sector quiet, every trace of Eron’s attack snuffed out in seconds.
The sphere shattered.
The backlash tore through the battlefield like a bomb, but only Eron felt it. His body convulsed, his magic ripping inward against him, shredding his own veins. He fell to one knee, spitting blood, his aura sputtering like a dying flame.
Vyn descended slowly, her feet touching the ground before him. Her chains coiled back, circling her like guardians, their glow steady, merciless.
Eron looked up, shaking, teeth grit. His face was pale, his lips red with blood, but his eyes burned with the same fury. "You think this ends with me on my knees? You think Lucian won’t—"
Her slap cut him off.
The sound cracked louder than thunder.
He collapsed sideways, face striking the rubble. His magic sputtered, barely a flicker now.
Vyn stood over him, silver eyes cold, voice flat. "This isn’t about Lucian. This is about you."
She raised her hand again. The chains coiled tighter, pinning him fully, pressing his face into the dirt. His body trembled, his breath rattling.
"You call yourself furious. You call yourself broken. But the truth?" Her voice trembled faintly, not from weakness, but from anger finally spilling. "You were just selfish. All these years... selfish."
Her hand shook, rage boiling so close it blurred her vision. She could end him now—erase him fully, crush him under the weight of her fury.
The chains froze, their glow holding steady.
Eron coughed blood, choking, his grin faint even through the pain. "Soft. Just like your mother."
Vyn’s chest heaved. Her silver glow blazed hotter, her teeth grit so hard they almost cracked.
And the chains withdrew, snapping back into her aura, leaving him broken but alive.
She leaned close, her voice barely above a whisper. "You’ll answer for everything. But not to me."
She turned, cloak whipping behind her as she walked away, her silver aura dimming into silence.
Eron lay broken in the rubble, coughing blood, eyes blazing weakly. His body twitched against the pain, but his grin—mad and bitter—remained.
"I will answer to no one, now, Marc get."