Morning poured like molten gold through the crystalline windows of the Nexus Spire. High above the rebuilt skyline, light danced across polished steel, scattering prisms over the smooth, obsidian floor of the master chamber.
Knox stirred first, his arm curled protectively around Seraph's waist. She lay nestled against him, her breath soft and steady. A transparent nightgown, ethereal and delicate, clung to her celestial form. It shimmered like morning mist, falling to mid-thigh and tracing every gentle curve of her silhouette. Her hair, a cascading veil of silver-fire, lay sprawled across the pillow like spilled starlight. Even in sleep, her beauty was ineffable—born of heavens, but remade in battle, grace forged through pain.
He didn't speak. He only watched her for a moment, hand brushing her waist with reverent quiet, committing her to memory once more.
Seraph stirred with a breath, eyes fluttering open like sunlight breaking through clouds. She turned to him, a drowsy smile softening her features.
"Good morning," she whispered.
He answered not in words, but with a kiss to her forehead.
They rose slowly, wordlessly, moving through their shared space with the intimacy of routine. She moved to the window, arms raised in a stretch, the nightgown catching light and casting faint rainbows through the air. Her reflection shimmered across the glass, starlit skin and bare feet against metal flooring.
Knox dressed in layers of matte-black nanoweave, the suit responding to his body like a second skin. She joined him, her battle suit manifesting piece by piece in strands of argent light that wound up her limbs like coiling ribbons. Together, they stood—two sentinels reborn in the new dawn of Earth.
Kaelina's voice chimed in. ["All systems are green. You two lovebirds ready to save the world again?"]
["I have calculated a 92% likelihood of immediate field deployment today,"] Luminara added warmly. ["But I would still recommend breakfast."]
Seraph laughed softly. "Priorities."
They shared one more glance. Then the helmets slid into place, their visors folding seamlessly from the back of their suits like the blink of a thought.
And the day began.
Far across the world, where the bones of ancient ruins rose from blood-soaked soil, the air shimmered. Birdsong died. The earth itself stilled.
A figure stood barefoot atop a mound of dust and shattered bones. He was tall, gaunt, yet elegant—skin pale as parchment, hair like strands of onyx. His eyes were hollow voids filled with a swirling tide of souls, whispering constantly behind the glassy sheen of his stare. Across his back flowed a cloak made of stitched flesh, fluttering gently in a wind that did not exist.
He extended a hand. Fingers, long and too thin, flexed toward the carcass of a long-dead warrior. Smoke twisted from the ribcage as something unseen pulled free from the hollow chest.
A glowing shape, faintly human in outline, screamed in silence as it was drawn into his palm and vanished beneath his skin.
The voice came, cold and crystalline, echoing across time.
["Host confirmed. Identity: Zareth Xellion. Accessing full parameters of Divine Protocol."]
Zareth tilted his head, smiling. "Animavorax," he whispered.
The system replied with thunderous quiet, as if speaking from beneath the surface of the world.
["Acknowledged. Animavorax system engaged. Designation: Soul Collector. Objective: Absorb. Assimilate. Ascend."]
He looked to the sky, where clouds dared not form. His lips curved into something that might've been a grin.
"I've consumed the stars of one world," he murmured. "And now… this one."
The wind returned, but it screamed instead of whistled.
["Warning: High-tier lifeforms detected. Estimated resistance: formidable."]
"I expected nothing less."
And as he vanished into the veil between places, the soil where he stood turned to ash.