The city burned.
Fire spilled from the sky in waves, licking the rooftops and turning the steel veins of the city into glowing scars. The people ran, screaming—shadows against a crimson canvas. But in the eye of the storm stood Lengaza.
His body trembled. Not from fear—but from power.
"Lengaza, please!" Raya's voice cracked as she reached for him. "You're stronger than this. You're not their weapon!"
Lengaza's eyes glowed—bright, inhuman. His hair lifted as if gravity no longer applied. Around him, the ground shook.
The Collector's drones circled above, recording, transmitting.
"You always were meant for this," the Collector whispered through a speaker. "My greatest creation."
Lengaza gritted his teeth.
"I was never yours."
But the voice inside him said otherwise.
Why fight it? This is who we are. Power. Fire. Fury.
And then—
"Let me out."
Lengaza fell to his knees. His breath caught in his throat.
Raya tried to reach him again, but Nyra pulled her back.
"He's shifting. If you get too close, he might not know you anymore."
"Then I'll remind him."
She stepped into the fire.
"Raya, no!"
Inside Lengaza's mind—darkness. Stars. Silence.
He stood face to face with himself.
Or rather… the version of him they created.
Revenant.
"You're not real," Lengaza spat.
"Real enough to burn your world down. Real enough to finish what they started."
"Not without me," Lengaza growled.
They clashed.
Blow for blow.
Flame for flame.
The battlefield of the mind cracked under the weight of their fury.
Outside, the sky split open. A storm brewed—unnatural, electric, terrifying.
Lengaza's body hovered above the street, energy arcing off his skin.
The buildings nearby began to crack.
"Lengaza, listen to me!" Raya shouted, standing beneath him. "You saved me once—now let me save you!"
His eyes snapped toward her.
And for a second—just one—she saw him.
Not the weapon. Not the monster.
Him.
"Raya…"
"Come back to me."
Inside again, Revenant faltered.
"She's not real," he growled.
"She is," Lengaza said, stepping forward. "And she believes in me more than anyone ever did."
With a final surge of light, Lengaza drove his hand through the illusion of Revenant—shattering him into a million fragments of fire and ash.
"I'm not your weapon. I'm mine."
Back in the city, the fire died.
The storm receded.
Lengaza collapsed to the ground—breathing hard, eyes wide.
Raya was at his side in seconds, arms around him.
"You did it," she whispered.
He didn't answer.
His heart was still racing—not with power, but fear.
Because for the first time, he realized the truth:
"That wasn't the end of it," he said quietly. "There's more… buried deeper. That was just one layer."
And far away, in a cold and silent chamber, the Collector watched as data streamed in.
"Protocol XIII complete," his assistant said. "The weapon is awake."
The Collector smiled.
"Then now… we begin."