"Huh...? Who the hell are you...?"
Ash stared anxiously at his battered brother as wisps of acrid steam slowly rose from Tyrin’s scorched skin.
"It’s me... Ash," he said, keeping his voice carefully calm.
Tyrin grimaced against the pain, but when he spoke, his voice carried a surprising defiance that masked his agony.
"Ash...? Wait..."
His uninjured eye fluttered open, slowly focusing on the face above him.
"Ash? As in... my brother, Ashley?"
Tyrin studied his face, struggling to reconcile the boy before him with the brother he remembered. Ash offered a small, tentative nod, but Tyrin’s expression changed the moment realization struck.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Tyrin rasped. His eyes darted past Ash.
"Wait... Max... Ah, I knew something was wrong! The only reason he agreed to everything I said was because he knew you were on this rock!"
Max stepped forward before either of them could utter another word. His voice was composed, but a sharp edge cut through the calm.
"Now is not the time to dwell on that."
His eyes remained locked on Tyrin.
"Did you retrieve it?"
Tyrin turned his head slowly toward Max.
"So you are here..."
He pushed himself away from Ash, groaning as he dragged his battered body into a sitting position on the cracked floor.
"You’re really making me lose whatever respect I had left for you."
Max exhaled quietly.
"Didn’t you lose that a long time ago? ...I repeat, did you find it?"
Tyrin’s jaw tightened.
"Of course I did... Why else would I be in this mess down here?"
He gritted his teeth again as he raised his mangled left arm, the bones snapping into place with sickening little pops as his regeneration forced them back into alignment. Every shuddering breath made the raw, scorched muscle across his chest twitch violently, but he ignored the pain.
Reaching behind his back, his fingers closed around an object concealed beneath thick, black cloth.
The fabric was wrapped in countless overlapping layers, concealing every contour beneath a dull, lightless shroud. Only its length and subtle curve hinted that it was a weapon.
Ash’s eyes widened the instant he saw it.
Tyrin coughed, blood spraying across his chin.
"Argh... It all makes sense now. I kept asking myself why you brought this cursed thing all the way out here... It was for him."
Tyrin thrust the heavy, cloth-wrapped bundle against Ash’s chest.
Ash stared down at it, his jaw clenching as hot, suffocating anger bloomed inside him.
"Ty... why do you have Mom’s blade?"
Tyrin sneered.
"Oh, shut up with that sentimental crap! It’s yours. God... it’s all coming together now."
He shot a sharp glance back at Max.
"Did you really have to go this far?"
Max didn’t reply. He merely let out a long, heavy sigh.
Ash’s voice rose, trembling with furious disbelief.
"Why would you bring it here?! Don’t you have any respect for her memory?! What if it got lost or stolen?!"
"I told you to shut the hell up!"
Tyrin snapped, his bloodshot eye blazing.
"Max has been way too soft on you! Do you have any idea what we’ve had to endure just to reach this point?! We lost contact with headquarters nearly a month ago! We’ve been running on empty, living like rats in hiding with no support! And Max?! He abandoned Team Vortex because of you! And here you are, throwing a tantrum over a piece of steel?! Don’t you feel even a shred of shame, Ash?!"
Ash froze, the words dying in his throat.
He had always known Tyrin harbored resentment toward him, but he had never realized how deep that resentment ran. And worst of all, Tyrin was right. If Ash hadn’t run away, Max would never have abandoned his post, and neither Max nor Tyrin would be trapped on a chaotic, dying world.
’Dammit... I was a fool to think Max would just let me go.’
"That’s enough," Max said softly, pulling Ash from his spiral.
Tyrin turned his head toward Max, his voice cracking with exasperation.
"Enough?! Max, look at him! He clearly doesn’t want either of us here!"
Max’s tone remained level, though his brow furrowed.
"We don’t have time for pointless arguments. What happened out there? Why are you in this condition?"
Tyrin let out a harsh, mocking laugh.
"What do you mean, why?! Can’t you see I was beaten within an inch of my life and dropped from the sky to warn you?!"
Max stared at him.
"Warn us...? Wait. Are you saying you fell from orbit?"
"Argh! That’s not the point right now!"
Tyrin yelled, wincing as his ribs shifted.
"Max... we’re in deep trouble. I was compromised."
Max’s eyes narrowed into slits.
"Compromised by who?"
Tyrin glared at him.
"What do you mean, who?! Can’t you hear it?!"
Max frowned, tilting his head.
"Hear what?"
Slow, heavy footsteps echoed through the hall. The ancient Titan, who had remained silently still until now, stepped forward, his hollow eyes fixed on the jagged opening Tyrin had torn through the ceiling.
"Mm..."
The old priest murmured softly.
"I had hoped to behold the open sky one last time before the end... but it seems fate has denied me even that small comfort."
At the Titan’s words, Max raised his gaze toward the shattered roof.
He froze. Every drop of color drained from his face.
"What in the name of..."
Around the gaping fissure, spiderweb cracks continued to split the ancient stonework, sending chunks of masonry crashing down around them. But beyond the broken vault of the temple, there was no sky or stars. Not even the cosmic void.
There was only a ship.
No, calling it a ship felt like calling a supernova a spark. It was a terrifying monolith of dark steel drifting through the upper atmosphere, a floating industrial continent bristling with weapons and machinery.
It hung over the dead planet like a guillotine blade pressed against a throat, so colossal it seemed to swallow the horizon.
High above, its central cannons began to ignite with a sickening, hypnotic radiance.
Violent strands of deep purple and searing electric blue twisted together in a churning spiral. The energies tore through the atmosphere, warping space-time until the cannon’s core bloomed into a massive, weeping wound carved into the sky.
As the hole in the roof widened and the chaotic light painted the cathedral in hues of alien death, a low, mechanical hum vibrated through the soles of Ash’s boots.
’No... No, no, no...’
The dreadnought’s main batteries were locked onto the temple.