The deserted city lay silent beneath a broken moon. Its streets, once alive, now served as an arena for destiny. Shadows gathered in the alleys, drawn to the pulse of power that shook the ground. Tonight, the season of survival ended. Tonight, the war claimed its true cost.

Riven, Kaen, and Thalos stood in the ruins of the city’s heart, their breaths steady, their blades ready. The Dark Noble loomed before them, a being of pure void energy. His presence suffocated the air, his wings of shadow unfurling to blot out what little light the stars dared to give. Three spectral blades spun around him, orbiting like predators.

Kaen lunged first, fire erupting from his veins. He was reckless, feral, every strike fueled by rage and defiance. Riven followed with precise, cutting speed, his blade slicing through the gaps Kaen’s fury left open. Thalos moved last, steady and immovable, his staff intercepting each retaliatory strike with the calm of a man who knew his life belonged to the moment.

The city shook under their assault. The Noble laughed, his voice like storms colliding. His aura multiplied, growing denser, heavier. Every clash tore the earth deeper, every blow screamed inevitability. Still, the three refused to yield.

---

Far away, Kael and Vael felt it. The shockwaves rippled across the wasteland, echoing through the bones of the earth. Kael’s flame flickered violently, responding to the call of battle. Vael’s jaw tightened, his aura unraveling like a thread pulled taut.

“This isn’t war,” Vael said grimly. “It’s execution.”

Without another word, they vanished—flame and shadow streaking across the land toward the city.

---

They arrived too late to stop the first loss.

Kaen fell with a scream, the Noble’s blade piercing his chest. His fire guttered, fading from his veins like a candle in the wind. Vael froze time itself, racing forward to catch his brother in the moment between life and death. He held Kaen’s body as the flames dimmed completely.

“No,” Vael whispered, his voice breaking. “Not you.”

Kaen’s eyes found his, a faint grin ghosting across his bloodied face. Then the fire was gone, and Kaen was still.

Rage consumed Vael. He attacked with reckless abandon, his strikes tearing through the fabric of time itself. But fury made him careless. The Noble turned, his shadow blades descending, and Thalos stepped into their path. The steel pierced his heart.

Thalos staggered, blood dark against his robes. He pressed a hand to Vael’s shoulder, steady even as life left him. “Live,” he whispered. “For him.” Then he fell, silent as stone.

---

Riven roared, his grief igniting into lightning that split the sky. Sparks rained from his body as his power erupted beyond control. His blade became a storm, each strike shattering stone, his aura a tempest of vengeance.

Kael’s arrival was a blaze that cut through despair. His Shadow Flame ignited, darker, brighter, sharper than ever before. He stood beside Riven, their grief binding them into one unbroken front.

“You ready?” Riven growled through clenched teeth.  

Kael’s eyes burned with fury and sorrow. “No more holding back.”

Together they charged.

---

The Noble revealed his full form. His wings spread wider, his body no longer flesh but pure void energy. Three blades became many, a storm of death orbiting him. Each step he took fractured the city further, until the ruins seemed to scream under the weight of his power.

Kael and Riven struck together, flame and lightning entwined. Their attacks were furious, desperate, unrelenting. Buildings collapsed around them, explosions carving the night open. The Noble met every blow, answering with void that consumed light itself.

Still, they fought. Still, they endured.

The final clash was cataclysm. Kael unleashed his full Shadow Flame, not as a curse but as a vow, his body engulfed in black fire streaked with violet light. Riven answered with lightning so fierce it turned the night into endless day. Together, they struck the Noble, their combined power ripping the battlefield apart.

The explosion was a sun being born and dying all at once.

---

When the smoke cleared, all three lay broken on the shattered earth. Kael’s body trembled, his flame reduced to embers. Riven bled freely, lightning sparking weakly from his skin. The Noble, though torn and wounded, still lived—his void body flickering but unbroken.

From the shadows, a cloaked figure emerged. Silent, deliberate, it extended a hand. Darkness swirled, and the Noble’s broken form was pulled into the abyss. The figure vanished with him, leaving only silence and ruin behind.

---

Rin and Lux arrived moments later, their eyes wide with horror. The battlefield was a graveyard of light and shadow. Rin fell to her knees beside Kael and Riven, her hands glowing desperately as she tried to heal what could be healed.

“Stay with me,” she pleaded. “Don’t you dare leave me too.”

Kael opened his eyes slowly, his breath shallow but steady. He looked at Rin, then past her, to the bodies of Kaen and Thalos. His chest clenched, grief burning hotter than his flame. But he lived. And that meant their sacrifice could not be in vain.

Nearby, Vael stirred. His body shook with exhaustion, his eyes hollow with loss. He looked at Kaen’s lifeless form, then at Thalos, then at Kael. His voice was a whisper carried by despair. “We were nothing compared to that power…”

The words lingered, heavy as ash.

---

Above them, the cracked moon glowed faintly. The night was darker than ever, but within that darkness burned a truth no shadow could erase: they had faced the impossible, and though broken, they still lived.

Season One ended not in triumph, but in survival.

And survival was enough to promise that the Last Flame would one day rise again.