When Yuron fell, the world did not breathe a sigh of relief. It held its breath and never exhaled.

The war ended. But it never truly stopped.

Governments crumbled. Flags burned. Maps were redrawn overnight. But in the shadows, where no treaties reached, the hunt began.

They weren't after land, they were after a story. A myth. A force.

Something no one could explain, but everyone feared.

They called it by many names:

The Source.

The Heart of Fire.

The Soul Engine.

The Spark of Genesis.

Some whispered it fell with the meteors.

Others believed it made the meteors fall.

A few dared to say it was never meant for this world at all.

Whatever the truth, it tied everything together.

And tonight... it showed its face.

Not in some secret lab. Not in the vaults of kings.

But here. In the desert.

Under a dead moon.

Held by a boy who had already lost too much.

And the world saw him.

From Zenithar's towers to the shattered walls of Aera Vult.

From the airships of the Dominion to the camps of outlaws and Night Covenant.

They all saw the fire. The blue fire.

They saw him.... And they started moving.

No one could pretend anymore. No more myths. No more bedtime stories. He was real.

The world had changed, and it couldn't go back.

⸻

The desert shook under the weight of engines.

Convoys, skiffs, armored rigs, all racing toward the same point.

Flags of syndicates, factions, mercenary clans.

Even banners long thought dead.

The Prophet felt them coming.

But his eyes were on Raiga.

He floated. Silent. A glow of fading blue flame wrapped his body like a second skin. No emotion.

His hand rose, slow and steady, like he had all the time in the world.

The Prophet wiped blood from his mouth, his breathing ragged.

Prophet: "So this is it... huh?"

He tried to steady himself. The void burned through his veins, but even that felt small now.

He planted his feet, knowing there was nowhere left to run.

Prophet: "Fine. Let's see it. Let's see if I can take it."

Far off, a military transport roared over the ridge.

Inside, five unknown soldiers stared out at the horizon, faces pale in the glow of what was coming. One of them gripped the comms tighter than he meant to.

The static cleared just enough to hear command barking orders.

Command: "Team 96, report! What are you seeing out there?! Confirm the nature of the threat. What the hell are we looking at?"

Alex hesitated, then spoke, voice low.

Alex: "Sir... I don't know how to describe it... The canyon's lit up like it's about to split in two."

Kasumi slammed a fist on the console.

Kasumi: "Alex, this is insane. We can't go closer. That thing is going to kill us all!"

Jack wiped sweat from his brow

Jack: "Alex, she's right..."

Elys: "Looks like that day... The meteor strike."

The comms crackled again.

Command: "Alex, stand down! Pull your team back now!"

Alex didn't respond. He looked to the back of the vehicle.

To Kagemaru, silent as always. Staring ahead.

Their eyes met. Nothing said, but everything understood.

Alex: "We're going in. If this is what everyone's after... we have to reach it first. No matter what... Command... we're proceeding. We'll relay what we can"

Command: "Alex, pull back, do you copy? PULL BACK—"

Alex cut the channel.

Jack: "Damn, Alex—"

Alex: "Enough. We're here now. Brace for whatever comes."

The others tensed. But nodded.

⸻

The glow on the horizon rose like a second sun.

Raiga's palm turned skyward. The air bent, like reality itself was being pulled apart. The flame spiraled up, blue and cold and ancient.

It formed a spear taller than any tower. A monument of fire.

The heat made the sky shimmer like water.

The Prophet stared at it, unable to speak at first. His mouth moved, but no words came.

Finally, he laughed. Soft. Broken.

Prophet : "...Beautiful..."

Far from them, his soldiers moved toward Liara, desperate for anything. But as they neared—

A wall of blue fire burst from the ground around her.

Silent at first. Then the screaming started as their armor turned to molten slag. They didn't last long.

The Prophet didn't look back. He didn't care anymore.

His eyes stayed on Raiga.

Raiga's voice rolled across the field, vast and unbound. His mouth was gone, yet the prophet heard him all the same. The voice rang with layers, with centuries. It was not Raiga who spoke, but the past itself, rising through him like a buried god.

Raiga: "You've always chased chaos. Here it stands. Let it be the end of your hunger."

Raiga floated, silent, the colossal spear of blue fire towering above him. The air warped, the night sky trembled. The heat bent the very stars. His hand remained raised, holding judgment itself.

Below, the Prophet shook, then screamed.

Prophet: "YES! COME ON THEN! BRING IT DOWN! I WILL CONSUME IT—CONSUME YOU!

His body flared with darkness, the void ripping from his veins like black fire. The ground beneath him cracked and caved as he pulled on every last shred of his cursed power. Shadows surged outward, forming jaws, tendrils, claws, his form barely human anymore. A storm of void, a beast of the abyss.

His eyes glowed like pits to nowhere, wide, mad, desperate to face what no mortal could withstand.

Raiga didn't flinch.

His face, smooth and cold, betrayed nothing.

His hand fell.

The spear descended like a star falling to earth.

For a fraction of a second, the Prophet grinned, arms raised, shadows roaring around him. Then—

The world ended.

BOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The desert was unmade.

The ground split as fire devoured it.

The blue spear crashed down, erasing shadow, consuming the void, swallowing the Prophet's storm like it had never existed.

The Prophet had no time to realize.

The heat didn't just burn. It erased.

Every shape. Every sound. Every breath.

The shockwave tore across the desert, flipped vehicles, shattered rock, blasted sand into the upper sky.

Team 96's rig rocked violently.

Kasumi screamed, shielding her face from the blinding light.

Kasumi: "Oh god... It's—it's the end! This is the END!"

Jack: "Brace!!!"

Alex gritted his teeth, trying to hold the rig steady.

Alex: "Hold! HOLD!"

The blast rolled over them, the heat slamming into the vehicle like a giant's fist. Metal groaned. Glass cracked. Then—

Silence.

Ash rained, soft as snow. The light faded.

The world returned, scarred, blackened.

⸻

In the heart of the crater knelt the Prophet.

Or what was left.

Bones charred black, flesh gone, armor fused into his form. One eye wide open, seeing nothing, his mouth frozen in a final grin.

Raiga descended, walking through the smoke as if it weren't there. His body flickered with the last embers of soul flame.

He stopped before the ruined figure. For a heartbeat, nothing moved. Then, Raiga's hand lifted.

Not to the shard. First, to the space just above the Prophet's chest.

Blue light rippled between them. A faint thread. A wisp of something not seen, but felt.

The Prophet's one eye seemed to dim, his grin slackening.

A breath. A pull. And then, gone.

Whatever had been taken, whatever had been claimed, was now part of Raiga's flame.

Only then did his hand reach the meteora shard, pulling it free with silent finality.

Raiga turned, walked to Liara. The barrier let him pass as if it knew him.

He knelt. Touched her face. Lifted her slowly, gently, as if she weighed nothing at all.

And with a single flash of blue light—

He was gone.

A streak across the heavens.

And the world...

held its breath once more.