The ground burned beneath a fractured sky.
For miles, fire raged. Steel clashed. Screams tore through smoke-thick air. Explosions rippled across the land like waves of fury, and the sky above threatened to collapse beneath the weight of it all.
But somewhere in the chaos—time froze.
All eyes turned.
The battlefield fell still as two figures emerged in a clearing, untouched by war.
On one side stood Kay, cloak in tatters, dust swirling at his boots. His black hair whipped wildly in the wind. His eyes—sharp, cold, unreadable—locked ahead, hand resting on the hilt of his blade.
Opposite him stood Matthew—a mountain of a man draped in cracked, ancient armor glowing with veins of red light. His very presence distorted the air.
"You've grown," Matthew said, voice deep and reverberating like thunder wrapped in iron. "Stronger than last time. Just like they said."
Kay said nothing.
Matthew took a step forward, his boots sinking into scorched earth. "I led this army to reclaim what was stolen. Stand in our way, and I will bury you with it."
Kay's voice cut through the air like his blade would: cold, precise.
"Won't you just shut up and fight?"
Matthew chuckled. "Still as disrespectful as ever."
And then—they moved.
A sonic boom cracked the sky as they collided. Steel met flesh. Power met precision.
Their first strike sent shockwaves across the field, tossing soldiers aside like leaves. Trees tore from the earth. The wind split in two.
Matthew's fists shattered stone. Kay dodged, parried, slashed.
They blurred across the battlefield—past trenches, shattered camps, broken artillery. The war itself held its breath as these two titans turned it into a stage.
And then—Matthew landed a direct hit.
For the briefest moment, Kay lost grip of his sword.
Matthew's full-force punch landed squarely in Kay's chest.
Kay flew.
He tore through the continent like a comet—through forest, valley, and canyon—until he struck the side of a mountain. The earth cracked. Dust clouded the sky.
From the crater's heart, Kay rose—blood dripping from his lips, cloak gone, eyes still burning.
"…That fossil," he muttered.
With a breath, he vanished.
Back at the field, Matthew stood tall. He turned—toward Anne and Manny.
Anne saw it and screamed. "Manny, run!"
She moved to protect him, but Matthew was faster. In a flash, he was beside her.
He lands a single punch.
Anne collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Manny shouted and lunged, but it was too late. Matthew's arm ran clean through his stomach.
"Don't go putting ideas in her head," Matthew growled.
He pulled Anne's limp body into his arms and began to walk away.
But behind him—fingers grasped at his boot. Manny.
Blood pouring from his mouth, still clinging to life.
"I'm not leaving her," he wheezed. "She's not going to be alone anymore. Not Anymore!"
Matthew paused.
Then he smiled.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, cold. "I've always been with her. From the start."
Manny's fingers dug deep into the dirt.
"Then why," he coughed, "why was she always so sad?"
Silence.
"It's because of you… isn't it?"
Matthew's face darkened.
He squats and drops Anne gently.
He raised his foot to stomp— But then froze.
A chill passed through the air.
Behind him stood Kay, eyes unreadable, battered and blood-soaked.
"What a monster," Matthew muttered.
He turned—just in time to meet Kay's blade.
It slashed downward like judgment.
Matthew blocked—but was thrown back, skidding across the field like a boulder skipping over water.
"You came back," Matthew said, rising to his knees.
Kay's voice was a whisper and a threat. "You hit me too hard."
Matthew unleashed everything—fists like meteors, shockwaves that swallowed squads whole. Kay met it all, blade flashing like a silver storm. Faster. Sharper. Unrelenting.
They became the eye of the war.
Matthew flew skyward, rising like a god.
Above the battlefield, fire gathered in his palms—enough to incinerate a city.
He hurled it down.
The sky turned red.
Kay didn't move.
He gripped his sword, muscles tense, eyes clear. "…This is for my friends."
One swing.
The sky split open.
Matthew's arm was cleaved clean in two. The ash scattered like snowflakes. And daylight returned.
Matthew crashed to the earth. His armor cracked. His breathing ragged.
Kay approached.
Matthew looked up—not with anger, but peace.
"I led this war thinking I was untouchable," he coughed. "But you… you weren't even trying."
Kay said nothing.
Matthew's eyes gleamed faintly. "You're cursed, aren't you? Always alone. Too strong for anyone to stand beside you. You'll never have true friends. Never find peace."
Blood spilled from his lips.
"You'll be a god… in a world of mortals."
And then he slumped.
Still smiling.
Kay stood over Matthew's body as it slowly discentigrated.
This signaled the end of the war and the death of one of the four pillars.
He slowly turned—toward Manny. Who was still alive. Barely.
His blood soaked the ground beneath him. His breathing shallow.
Anne stirred on the ground, eyes fluttering open just in time to see Kay approach.
"M-Manny?" she whispered, then louder. "Manny?!"
She sat up, scrambling to reach him—but Kay was already there.
Sword drawn.
"Kay, what are you doing—"
"He betrayed this nation," Kay said softly. "He aided a prisoner. Spoke against me. The world saw it."
"Kay, stop!" she screamed. "Please—i Will tell you anything you need to know, so please, please, please!... I love him."
Kay's eyes never left Manny's.
"I know," he said, voice thick with emotion.
Manny looked up at him. His lips curved into a weak smile. "I knew you'd come."
Kay's jaw clenched. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
One strike.
It was clean. Silent.
Anne's scream tore through the sky.
Manny fell still—eyes open, smile intact.
Anne collapsed beside him, cradling his head, tears flooding down her cheeks.
Kay stood over them both, sword dripping.
His own tears rolled down, quiet and unseen.