The throne room buzzed with a tension Luis couldn't explain—something ancient, something wrong. The air smelled like scorched metal and forgotten bones, the kind of scent that settled behind the teeth. Before him stood Aerion, the Whisperwind Scion—elegant, calm, and terrifying. He didn't move like a warrior. He moved like a song, gliding on invisible strings.
Luis, in his EXO-SUIT, should've felt secure. He didn't.
Zyx's whisper still echoed in his mind:"Hi-Monster."
Aerion's voice slid into the room like silk dipped in venom.
"What a charming surprise. A God of Misfortune, now clinging to tin puppets."
Luis activated the EXO-SUIT. The hiss of hydraulics steadied his hands.
"They're not primitive," he muttered. "They're effective."
But Aerion was already gone.
Not blurred. Not fast. Gone—like he'd stepped out of reality.
"Behind you!" Zyx screamed.
Luis twisted, hammer already mid-swing. A flash of blue—then pain. Electricity screamed across his ribs, leaving a hiss of burnt metal.
Twenty feet away, Aerion reappeared. Unscathed. Unbothered. Amused.
"Frail," he said with a lilt, voice cold as crystal. "So slow. So… heavy."
Luis barely had time to bark a command. The Knight Mech charged, eye glowing with stubborn fire. Drones flanked, guns ready.
Aerion laughed.
With one glowing palm, he conjured a beam of lightning so focused it looked like a blade. The Mech exploded mid-step, fragments raining like fireflies.
"ONE MECH DOWN!" Zyx shrieked. "HE'S NOT EVEN SWEATING!"
The drones fell seconds later—Aerion zipping through them like a ghost made of storms. They never stood a chance.
Luis was alone. Again.
Aerion floated back into view, steps feather-light.
"Was that it?" he asked. "A Bakunawa slayer brought this?"
Luis didn't answer. He lunged. Hyper Boosters flared. Spiderfang Hammer struck—twice. Aerion's arm flickered green—Spider Bite had landed.
He barely reacted.
"Poison? How quaint."
Then he was lightning again—blinding, sudden. A kick slammed into Luis's back, sending him skidding across the cold, blood-slick floor.
The battle turned into a one-man execution. Luis fought like a cornered animal—mind racing, constructs flying, poison swinging. None of it mattered.
His barriers shattered. His illusions flickered and died. Aerion didn't dodge them. He ignored them.
Lightning struck again. And again. Luis's health bar plummeted: 70%. 50%. Red alarms screamed from the HUD. He was out of tricks. Nearly out of time.
"The diversion ends now," Aerion said flatly. "The dance… tires."
Three glowing spears of lightning took shape midair—then shot.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
They buried into Luis's thighs and lower leg, pinning him to the floor. Flesh seared. Blood pooled. His scream ripped from somewhere deeper than his lungs.
"I—I think this is it," he whispered, barely conscious. "Zyx, make sure they remember I tried."
"NO! Luis, please!" Zyx cried. "You're not done!"
But his health dropped. Fast. 10%...
Then—
A blinding emerald burst from his chest.The Amulet of Last Breath – Enhanced cracked, then disintegrated.
Luis's health spiked—60% recovered.
Aerion paused, curious.
"A relic? Hm. Slightly less pathetic."
He resumed his walk, slow and deliberate.
"You prolong your end. I appreciate that. Suffering is… delicious. I prefer a slow crescendo. Pain paints the truest portrait."
He circled Luis, admiring his work like an artist before a finished canvas.
Luis stared up at the broken ceiling, lips twitching in something like a smile.
"It's okay, Zyx. I'll just be another scratch in your tally. Another whisper in your unlucky little record book."
He meant it as a joke. But the tears pouring down his cheeks said otherwise.
Aerion cocked his head.
"So the mind shatters now. Pity."
Zyx hovered above him, flickering. Silent. Sobbing.
"Don't do this..." he whispered, his voice breaking.
Aerion lifted a hand. Dozens of lightning-thin needles formed, humming like bees drunk on blood.
"Sing, little mortal," he said gently.
The first needle pierced Luis's shoulder. Then his chest. Then his face.
Each bolt of pain felt eternal. His body convulsed with every stab, every twitch of Aerion's hand. The room became a blur of pain. Screams. Then gasps. Then nothing but shaking.
1% health.
Aerion finally stopped. Hand lowered.
"Time to fall."
A single lightning blade formed. Elegant. Final.
With a flick of the wrist, it sliced clean across Luis's neck.
Silence.
Luis's head rolled, eyes wide, barely registering the image of Aerion walking away, already bored. The world spun, colors dimming, pain fading.
Then—nothing.