"Hahaha! Now you're fighting like a Kralscell, Faltha!" My laughter echoed wild and cracked, as if something ancient and deranged stirred within me. The shockwaves from his scream still rolled through the air, flattening the remains of the city and casting its ashes skyward. "Where was this earlier? You could've obliterated the entire tower we fell in with the Empyrean empowering you!"
"Shut up!" he spat.
[Skill: Ending Frequency — Voice Thief!]
[Aspect: Taken Devourer — Take the Wind!]
The wind coiled around me, trying to rip the air from my lungs, squeezing through the cracks of my helmet. But the golden and silver fire that engulfed my gauntlets danced hungrily. I ripped the wind apart with a sweep of my hands. Voice intact.
"You'll have to do more to pilfer from a taker, singer."
"I said shut up!!" Each word from him rattled the heavens. The ground beneath cracked open with every shout. The wind lashed out from his voice like hammers, battering my chest, while yellow frost crept out beneath his boots.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You could've done the same! Stop congratulating me for something so... so mediocre!"
[Skill: Horizon Chain — Sanity Anchor]
The haze in my mind pulled back slightly, clarity settling in. My aether-stained thoughts calmed as the anchor dropped, and I began to see through the Empyrean's manipulation—how it fed on the guilt festering inside Faltha.
"So that's what's been eating at you..." I murmured, curiosity curling up my lips into a slow grin.
"I am one of the thirteen Harbingers! A sponsor of ! Even without that, there should be worth to who 'Faltha Pengrieve' is supposed to be! Even with those titles, I'm nothing more than a second-rate musician—one who steals unfinished songs and pretends they were his!"
Above us, the yellow sky of Idaten shimmered. Its false stars blinked quietly, as though the planet itself had turned to watch the broken soul beneath it.
"There's a reason the gave me the divine epithet [Harp's Last Tune]! It's because I can never begin anything myself!" he shouted, his voice unravelling.
I didn't say a word.
I began walking toward him across the flattened battlefield. Rubble shifted underfoot. The quiet between us cracked under the weight of his confession.
[A Surveyor has entered Idaten-II!]
[
[Many exalted beings immediately flood the stream to witness the duel of Kralscells.]
"You don't know what that's like!" he screamed into the wind. "You're the [Traveler on a Journey]! You're the one who began the Great Exploration! Who united thousands of galaxies and forged the CGA from nothing! And you're the villain, while I'm the hero!? It doesn't make sense!"
[Thursday Thunder, watches the battle between Kralscells enthusiastically.]
[Warrior of Ash and Fire, chants for bloodshed.]
[Karttikeya with Six Faces, watches while sipping tea.]
I kept walking. The sound-waves hammered at me like artillery fire, but I didn't slow. What was left of the city was gone. Even the forests at the border had been stripped bare. Beyond this scorched world was nothing now—just silence and watchers.
When an Empyrean attempts to overtake its Kralscell, it turns their greatest insecurities against them. Weakens their spirit. Makes their mind easier to dominate. And right now, Faltha's soul was screaming for someone—anyone—to hear it.
[Green Mountain Hero wonders at the destruction.]
[Hell-King: Thieving Grus is amazed to see two Kralscells fighting.]
[Seraphim: Vengeance is Justice sighs at the destruction.]
"It doesn't make sense! It doesn't make sense!! You were once the [Endless Horizon Crusader]! Even after you were revealed to be a Kralscell, colonies still welcomed you! Called your visit a blessing of peace! But when you were branded a terrorist, you didn't fight back! You ran! And you still travel! Why!? Why haven't you given up your journey!?"
[Whispering Albifrons watches with a heartfelt gaze.]
I stopped walking—just thirty feet from him. My gaze lifted to the golden sky, to that last watcher's name. A silence passed through me, and then I answered.
"It wasn't me running," I said, plain and quiet. "Curiosity drew me forward. I never needed a reason to keep moving—I only needed the freedom to imagine something greater. And once you've seen that kind of freedom, the expectations of others seem far too small but still so precious. They didn't care why I left, or what I left behind. The stars and horizons just let me be. And that—more than anything—was what I needed."
"...What?" Faltha's voice cracked, stunned. His sound-waves died. The storm collapsed.
[Mountain-Crowned Monkey, laughs hysterically at the comment.]
[Witch Queen rolls her eyes, unsurprised.]
[Dessert's Golden Hawk, hides a chuckle.]
"When you first learned about music, Faltha... didn't it start from curiosity?" I raised my right gauntlet, the silver veins across it pulsing with light. "That curiosity became passion. That passion became obsession. You didn't steal music—you gave abandoned songs new life. That doesn't make your love for it any less."
Faltha didn't respond.
He just stared. Behind the possessed yellow light in his eyes, I could see it: the real Faltha—crying on his knees, tears streaming from a soul bent but not broken. A man shackled by shame, desperate to be understood.
"I've heard your work before. Sat in your concert hall a few years back." Materialising [Sigrid] I hefted my sheathed blade onto my shoulder. "Even as a thing made of logic and madness, I could feel it. The long nights. The silent weeping. The agony of trying to complete what others abandoned. That's what made your music beautiful."
And finally... silence. We stood, surrounded by oblivion, staring at one another. The stream bombarded us with flashing messages—but for now, none of it mattered.
"Heh... I see now," Faltha muttered, palm pressing to his face with a bitter laugh. Some clarity returned to his amber eyes. "Now I understand why they call you the [Evil Spirit of Revelation]... You can't help yourself, can you? Always carving into people's truths... devouring their wrath."
I offered no response. Just a small shrug.
From above, black wings cut the sky. A ghostly raven descended, landing silently on my shoulder.
'Sorry it took me so long,' Thorn spoke into my mind. 'After you engaged Tweety over there, the others hightailed it out of the city.'
It's no problem, I replied mentally
Power swelled around us like a tide as Thorn submerged into my chest.
"So.. [Harp's Last Tune]." I exhaled, golden fire burning behind my helm. "Are you ready to stop holding back?"
"I should be asking you, [Traveler on a Journey]!" Faltha's body trembled with surging aether as he revealed a conductors wand. "Let's give our audience the greatest show that they've ever seen!"
[Skill: Imaginary Overlord — Theli summons!]
[Skill: Resounding Blare, Canen summons!]
"Awaken, Theli!"
"Sing with me, Canen!"
***
In great pillars of light, both Kralscells shook the very bones of the planet as twisters of aether and radiance engulfed them.
Through the screen I watched from, the sheer pressure exuded by those divine columns seeped into my room—like the world itself had been cracked open and the weight of gods was bleeding through.
Faltha, the Kralscell of Song, was suspended within a spiralling tornado of yellow wind and frost. The shadow of a colossal bird formed steadily within the storm.
Opposite him, Strife—the Kralscell of Sentience—stood inside an abyssal silver-orange horizon that churned like a black hole. Within its consuming swirl, a devilish silhouette emerged, humanoid yet far too vast to belong to man.
Then, with a divine blast of power, both titans were born.
The elements that encased them shattered, peeling away like petals in a storm, revealing their godly forms to the ruined plains. Each towered at 160 feet, monuments to fury and transcendence.
"KRAHHHH!!!"
"CAWWWW!!"
Strife had become a monstrous draconic knight—horns tracing his jawline, ribbons of tail-feathers descending from his spiked back and swaying tail. His massive hands and feet shimmered with dark-silver claws, while his jet-black armour bristled with golden lightning.
Opposite him, Canen took form: a massive griffin clad in armour of yellow ice. Two heads—both regal and raptorial—perched atop a lion's body, feathers glowing faintly with ambient sound.
"GRAHHH!!!"
Theli, the knight-titan, charged first. His gauntlets brimmed with golden energy, a radiance that built in crescendo.
Canen shrieked, spreading its wings wide. Missiles of ice and physical sound were fired in relentless volleys—but Theli barrelled through the barrage, roaring as he slammed a colossal punch into the base of Canen's twin necks.
"CAH!!"
The knight kicked into the scorched earth, and a tidal wave of slushy, silver-orange water erupted from the impact, flooding the battlefield.
Canen flailed in the rising waters—but Theli gave no pause. He leapt into the flood, grabbed the griffin's winged form, and dragged it bodily through the plains before flinging the beast across the dirt like a ragdoll.
"GRAAAHHHR!"
"CAW!!"
Recovering fast, Canen soared skyward—out of reach. Arcing through the winds, the griffin launched hundreds of sound-ice projectiles from above.
Theli raised his arms to shield himself, battered under the hailstorm of piercing shells, each one slamming into his body with force equal to a hundred tank blasts.
Then, diving from the clouds, Canen cleaved through Theli's armoured chest with one icy wing. The blow was so sharp, it sliced through earth and steel like butter.
Roaring with fury, Theli clapped his golden-silver gauntlets together, unleashing a thunderous amber shockwave. For a fleeting moment, it cleared the sky of Canen's bombardment—before another wave of ice missiles came crashing down.
From tail to chest, Theli began to glow with gathering light. A golden-orange hum rose from within, surging upward until—
"KRAAAHHH!!!"
A devastating tempest of energy roared from Theli's maw. Silver rain and streaks of orange lightning gushed across the battlefield, crackling through the yellow sky of Idaten-II like judgment from the stars.
Canen twisted through the beam with sublime precision. But the breath attack carved a wide path of devastation through what little remained of the city—leaving behind only a frozen scar of destruction laced with static fire.
Descending again, Canen shifted tactics. Skimming across the battlefield at terrifying speed, the griffin rammed toward Theli.
Theli's many tail-feathers bristled, and just as Canen closed in—he struck.
Grabbing the griffin's wing, Theli spun it overhead, slamming the beast into the ground with enough force to quake the horizon.
But Canen was not so easily defeated. A typhoon burst outward from its body, a spiralling storm strong enough to rip house-sized stones from the soil and hurl them into Theli's shoulders, throwing the leviathan knight back in staggered steps.
The typhoon expanded, devouring the field—its gale so great it felt like the wind had gained a will of its own. A divine rage incarnate, guided by the griffin's two-headed shrieks.
Canen emerged from one of the swirling towers, climbing Theli's back like a predator in pursuit. Talons sank into the jagged spine—forcing a roar of agony from the knight.
Higher and higher, Canen carried Theli toward the eye of the storm, where stones and shrapnel battered the knight like the fists of angry gods.
As Theli fell, Canen strafed—unleashing a barrage of ice-sound missiles into his sides. The knight was assaulted mercilessly, armour cracking, footing lost.
But Strife was not done.
"GAHHHRRRR!!!"
With a furious roar, Theli turned gravity itself. The world warped—the typhoon bent toward him. The storm began breaking against Canen's wings as Theli reeled the griffin in using his ribboned tail and back-feathers.
And when Canen was close—Theli bit. Fangs tore into the soft gap between Canen's twin necks, and the beast screamed. Then, in a brutal flourish, Theli gripped both avian skulls and slammed them together, unleashing electric bursts directly into their craniums from his claws.
DUSH!
Theli crashed to the earth, using the griffin's body as his landing cushion.
Canen retaliated—kicking, thrashing—forcing Theli off and rolling away in pained desperation.
But Theli pursued. With a bound, he teleported—reappearing beside Canen in a flash—and slashed his claws, carving into feather and frost. Canen dodged expertly, dancing along wind currents.
At a safe distance in the sky both griffin beaks flared yellow. Twin beams of aether shot forward—piercing Theli's chest and shoulder, severing his arm at the joint.
But the knight did not stop.
From the glowing stump, orange-silver light burst—and a new limb began forming: growing silver demonic bones, strange golden-red flesh and tight muscles, and finally blackened plate regenerated in seconds before curling into a new fist.
Theli struck back immediately. A backhanded punch sent Canen reeling.
Clutching one of the griffin's necks in his other hand, Theli dug in deep—his maw tearing flesh once more.
Canen screamed again, wings hammering against Theli's body—but every wound it inflicted healed near-instantly.
With one last savage lunge, Theli ripped the first head clean off.
Then, with monstrous calm, he slapped the severed head into its twin before plunging his claws into Canen's chest—ripping downward until one of its leonine legs came free.
The lone head screeched—desperate, exhausted, flailing for survival.
But Theli reached forward. Gripped its skull in both gauntlets. And then he ignited himself. Golden lightning coursed through his cracked armour reaching down to the tip of his tail and filling the ribbons hanging from his spine of bladed spikes. An electric storm formed—Theli as the eye of the wrathful tempest. Theli held Canen's face within it, scorching every feather and freezing breath the griffin had left.
Until, at last, the titanous leviathan knight let go. The broken griffin tumbled lifelessly to the ground. A single, fading caw echoed out before it burst into a sphere of yellow light.
Canen reverted—falling back into the unconscious form of the man once known as Faltha.
"GRAAAHHHR!" With a triumphant bellow, Theli dispersed in a pillar of silver-orange horizon light.
From the smoke, the much smaller Strife stepped forward—calmly walking toward the fallen Kralscell of Song.
Walking across the flattened dirt, Strife strode with purpose toward his unconscious opponent, sprawled atop a block of chilled yellow ice.
[Skill: Winter Inverse — Surgical Claw!]
[Aspect: Taken Devourer — Take the Soul!]
He extended his left hand as his knight's gauntlet morphed into an extractor-like device with three writhing prongs—each coated in a black-silver inky substance that slithered across their tips.
Perched once more on Strife's shoulder, the raven Thorn preened smugly. "That was fun. Told you to trust me driving Theli. I even burned off the excess aether—no risk of you going supernova, princess."
"Thanks. But we need to move. Time's running out."
Groaning theatrically, Thorn sagged his feathers over Strife's pauldron. "Can't you enjoy anything? Starting to think I should've let the aether melt your brain—might've finally made you laugh."
Hovering over his fallen foe, Strife peered down at the broken Kralscell of Songs. Faltha lay slumped atop the undulating wave of enchanted ice, barely breathing.
Half his face was torn away, exposing raw muscle. Feathers of yellow ice jutted from his shredded skin. His entire frame looked like it had weathered a storm that sought to unmake him.
"I wish I could, Thorn." Strife pressed his right hand to Faltha's chest. His mutated left gauntlet spun gently, its prongs glowing with cold silver fire. "But we both know who's coming. We can't fight them all."
[Aspect: Taken Devourer — Reaches and Takes!]
As the claw hovered above Faltha's heart, an unseen force began siphoning the very essence from his chest.
"Aaah! Aaah!!" Even in unconsciousness, Faltha thrashed in agony, only to be pinned hard against the ice by Strife's palm.
A yellow crystal slowly began to form from within Faltha's sternum. With every inch it surfaced, his screams weakened, until eventually he fell into a peaceful, empty silence.
[Aspect: Taken Devourer — Takes!]
Strife grunted. The connection between Faltha and the forming crystal fought back, trying to retreat into the body—but Strife's will overwhelmed it. With a wrench of telekinetic force he fully tore the gem free from the defeated kralscell of songs.
[The Cadenza Note Empyrean — Screams!]
A pulse of yellow light ignited inside the empyrean gem. Instantly reacting, Strife grabbed Faltha's body and shielded him, just as a sonic detonation of aether hurled both him and Thorn across tens of kilometres. The impact was so great, mountains tore from the ground and flipped sideways in the aftermath.