Gradus Ascensionis XLV

The energy rifles hummed with lethal intent, their crystalline cores pulsing in the sterile light of the fortress corridor. The team stood frozen, techcrystals gleaming in their transport trays – so close to escape, yet now trapped in the killing zone they had worked so hard to avoid.

The fortress's security matrix rippled through the air, an invisible tide that washed away their digital disguises like sandcastles before a wave. As their true faces emerged, the guards' fingers tightened on their triggers, recognition and triumph flickering across their expressions.

Outside, the impossible siege continued. Aldric stood at his command post, watching through premium-grade tactical displays as his perfectly orchestrated defenses struggled against what should have been a simple cleanup operation. These weren't elite raiders or top-tier players – just ordinary people fighting with extraordinary purpose. Every time his prismatic kill zones cut them down, their allies dragged them to safety. When his automated turrets found their range, players sacrificed their best gear to shield their companions.

For the first time in his career, Aldric faced an enemy that defied every tactical doctrine he knew. They violated every principle of self-preservation, and ignored every cost-benefit analysis. They fought like people who had found something worth more than their virtual lives.

Inside, the lead guard's voice cut through the tense silence. "One wrong move and—"

The wall exploded inward with a thunderous crash.

Through the debris and dust strode Firelez, his entrance taking down three guards who never saw it coming. Pieces of reinforced wall – wall that had cost a fortune in premium currency to install – scattered across the fortress's immaculate corridor like discarded toys.

Mechanical sentinels pivoted toward the intrusion, their weapons charging with enough power to delete a player's entire account. More guards emerged from defensive positions, surrounding Firelez in a tightening circle of leveled weapons. Behind them, the fortress's main doors loomed, their reflective surface capturing the chaos of the ongoing raid – players falling to automated defenses only to be dragged back by their companions, healing items depleted, premium gear shattering, but still they came.

"Surrender," the lead guard commanded, an energy rifle trained on Firelez's head. "You're outnumbered, Mexican."

Firelez stood in the center of the killing circle, debris still settling around his feet. With deliberate calm, he reached up and discarded the last remnants of his disguise. The champion's gear materialized piece by piece, each item represented honor badges to battles won and challenges overcome. His presence seemed to grow with each passing second, until he was no longer just a player but a force of nature contained in avatar form.

"And you're outmatched," he replied, his voice carrying both absolute certainty and the weight of every sacrifice that had brought them to this moment.

The mechanical sentinels moved closer, their weapons primed. But in Firelez's stance there was no fear, no hesitation – only the quiet confidence of someone who had measured the cost of this moment long ago and found it worth paying. Beyond the doors, the sounds of the raid grew louder, a symphony of defiance against the fortress' presumed invincibility.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to still. The hum of energy rifles, the whir of sentinels, the distant echo of the siege – all of it faded into the charged silence that surrounded Firelez. In that moment, the distinction between virtual and real blurred. These weren't just players fighting players anymore. This was belief against certainty, hope against inevitability, the human spirit against the cold indifference of the universe stacked against them.

And Firelez stood, a champion not because of his gear or his stats, but because he embodied every ounce of courage and sacrifice that fueled the impossible siege outside. His next move would echo not just through the fortress' halls but through the stories players would tell long after this day was done.

Death walked among them, unseen by all but one. She moved with elegant grace through the chaos of battle, her presence both gentle and absolute. Not here to claim, only to witness. For even Death recognized moments that belonged purely to the living.

Firelez stood at the center of the storm he had created, his red anima blazing like a dying star. Each movement was poetry written in light and shadow, every strike a verse in an epic that would end too soon. Mechanical sentinels and guards encircled him, their weapons creating a web of lethal energy. Yet against the magnificence of what was unfolding, they seemed small, insignificant.

His blade sang through the air, parrying shots that should have ended him instantly. But this was no longer mere combat – it was a conversation between a warrior and his final moments, each beat of his heart purchasing another second of defiance with his own essence.

A young boy in Mexico, fingers first touching a DRD...

He spun through three guards, his blade finding gaps in their defenses that existed for mere heartbeats. Premium armor, bought with the currency of the privileged, shattered like glass under the weight of his purpose.

His first tournament, hands shaking with excitement...

A mechanical sentinel charged, its titanium frame gleaming with destructive intent. Firelez met it with a laugh, not of mockery but joy – the joy of a life lived fully. His blade turned its momentum against itself, reducing the behemoth to sparking fragments.

His sister's smile when he won his first championship...

Death watched, her eternal face bearing an expression rarely seen – respect. She had come for countless souls, but few had made their final moments into such art. She would wait. This performance deserved its full runtime.

His anima burned brighter with each passing second, red light casting shadows that danced across the fortress walls. Guards faltered, their weapons lowering as they hesitated, awed by the spectacle before them – a single player moving like a force of nature, his strikes precise despite the blood blooming across his avatar.

The faces of his teammates when he promised to give them time...

Two sentinels advanced, their weapons charging. Firelez moved in impossible arcs, his blade weaving a symphony of defiance. Energy blasts ricocheted off its edge, shattering the machines that dared to challenge him.

His mother's voice, telling him to always finish what he started...

The main door of the fortress loomed ahead, his final objective. A few more steps, a few more heartbeats to spend. But as he advanced, a figure in pristine techarmor materialized before him – Aldric, his presence both an obstacle and a tribute to the champion's skill.

They faced each other across the debris-strewn yard, the chaos of battle swirling around them like a hurricane around its eye. Firelez's anima cast red light across Aldric's polished armor, painting it in the hue of blood.

"You could have had everything," Aldric said, his voice carrying genuine regret. "With your skills, your reputation... You could have stood beside me."

Firelez smiled, and in that smile was every sunrise he'd ever seen, every victory he'd ever tasted, every moment that had led him here. His blade rose one final time, its edge glowing with the intensity of a collapsing star.

"I already have everything," he replied, his voice steady, unwavering. "I have this moment."

Death stepped closer, her eternal patience finally drawing to its end. Yet there was no sadness in her aspect – only appreciation for a life burning brightest in its final flare.

The champion and the commander stood at the apex of their paths, two masters of their craft. Around them, the fortress hummed with power, its pay-to-win defenses poised to unleash oblivion. But in this moment, all of its invulnerability seemed to fade against the simple nobility of a player willing to give everything for something greater than himself.

Firelez's anima blazed like a newborn star, brighter than any that had ever burned in the digital heavens. His blade described an arc that began his final dance, the crescendo of a life lived with purpose. In his eyes, there was no despair – only triumph. For he had transformed his last moments into a masterpiece that even Death herself had paused to admire.

Aldric moved like inevitability itself, each strike precise and terrible. His techarmor hummed with power, the culmination of countless premium purchases and a lifetime of disciplined skill. But it was his ruthlessness that made the difference. He wasn't just defeating Firelez – he was systematically dismantling everything the champion represented.

"All that sacrifice," Aldric's voice cut through the chaos, his tone almost pitiful. "All that nobility. And what did it buy you? A few fleeting moments of defiance?"

Firelez didn't respond. His red anima flickered like a candle in a storm, its once-magnificent glow dimming under the weight of his failing body. Each movement, once a symphony of light and shadow, now wavered against the tide of inevitability. Every breath came at a higher cost, every heartbeat wrung from reserves already near-empty.

Aldric's final strike crashed against Firelez with devastating force, sending the champion flying across the yard. His body struck the fortress walls, leaving a faint scorch mark on the pristine surface. Firelez's sword fell from his hands, clattering to the ground with a sound like distant bells tolling a funeral hymn.

Death moved closer, her presence bringing a soft chill to the air around the fallen champion. Her steps were slow, filled with the grace of someone who had all the time in the universe. With infinite tenderness, she reached out as if to brush his hair, offering what little comfort she could to a warrior who had turned his final moments into art. Her silent gesture spoke volumes: Soon, but not yet. This moment is still yours.

Aldric approached, his techarmor casting long, menacing shadows over Firelez's crumpled form. He stopped just short, his voice sharp with disdain and disappointment. "Was it worth it? Throwing everything away for—"

The ground beneath them shuddered violently, cutting Aldric off mid-sentence. A sound like the universe drawing its first breath roared through the fortress. The floor split open, and from its depths rose something ancient and terrible – a dragon of myth, its scales shimmering with a light that defied the game's digital limitations. Each movement of its massive form carried the weight of an eternity, but its body was failing, already fading as its essence unraveled.

"What is this?" Aldric hissed, his usually composed demeanor cracking under the weight of the unexpected. This was not part of his plan. He had placed the dragon in the fortress sewers, intending it to be a trump card against Sky. But now, it was dying, and with its death came something far beyond his control.

The dragon's fading form opened like a veil, and from its dissolving essence stepped Sky. His blade pierced the dragon's heart, not in hatred but with solemn purpose – as if releasing it from its suffering. The dragon's death throes filled the air with stardust, each particle carrying the weight of untold stories and cosmic truths.

Sky landed softly between Firelez and Aldric, his presence shifting the very fabric of the moment. This wasn't just an arrival – it was the bending of reality itself, the universe adjusting around an unyielding truth. Sky's focus wasn't on Aldric. It wasn't in the chaos of the battle still raging outside the fortress. It was entirely on Firelez.

The dragon's dissolving essence swirled into a wall of light, separating Aldric from the two friends. Stardust sparkled in the air like remnants of a supernova, each mote compressing to the forces that had converged in this place. Aldric, for all his premium purchases and tactical brilliance, could only stand in stunned silence. Both his plans – the perfect defense of the fortress and his use of the dragon – had failed in ways he couldn't comprehend.

"What... what is the meaning this?" Aldric's voice cracked, disbelief painting his features. He reached out to touch the barrier of stardust, only to recoil as the particles rippled with a force beyond his control.

Sky knelt beside Firelez, his presence radiating calm. He didn't need to speak to reassure his fallen friend. His being there was enough – a promise unspoken but deeply understood. Even in the face of death, Firelez would not be alone.

Death paused in her vigil, her gaze meeting Sky's for a brief, eternal moment. There was respect in her expression – the kind one cosmic force reserves for another. She knew Sky wasn't here to stop her. He was here to ensure that Firelez's final moments were not solitary.

The stardust swirled, refracting light in patterns that seemed to tell stories of ages long past. The fortress's walls, for all their invincibility, seemed to shudder in acknowledgment of what was unfolding. This moment had surpassed their programmed parameters, becoming something neither virtual nor real but transcendent.

Aldric watched, his confusion giving way to simmering rage. His perfection, his plans, his certainty – all of it felt hollow in the face of this unexplainable defiance.

Sky didn't spare Aldric a glance. His focus remained on Firelez, his voice low but filled with unshakable resolve. "I told you, brother, I'd never leave you to face the end alone."

Firelez smiled faintly, his red anima flickering weakly. "Even... even now, you can't stop bending the rules."

"Rules," Sky replied, his tone soft yet firm, "are meant to be broken." A tear escaped his eye remembering the iconic line of a crazy character from his old games.

Sky knelt beside Firelez, the shimmering barrier of stardust casting them in soft, otherworldly light. Firelez's breath was shallow, each exhale carrying the weight of a lifetime condensed into this final moment. The red anima that had once burned so brightly now flickered weakly, a candle in its final moments.

Sky's voice was calm, steady, though his eyes betrayed the weight of the loss he was about to endure. He placed a hand gently over Firelez's chest, feeling the faint pulse of his fading anima. With his other hand, he cradled Firelez's head, his movements tender, careful.

"A hero from my youth," Sky began, his voice carrying the reverence of someone invoking a sacred memory, "once taught me how to give a final farewell to the soul. Care to listen, dear friend?"

Firelez managed the faintest nod, his lips curling into the barest ghost of a smile. His eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, held gratitude. Sky leaned closer, his words carrying the weight of centuries, his tone both solemn and heartfelt.

"Requiescat in pace, noble champion of the people.

You fought not for glory, but for justice.

You lived not in shadows, but stood tall in the light of truth.

The fire in your eyes matched the warmth in your heart,

And though centuries divide our origins,

Your spirit bridges time itself.

May your journey be gentle, champion.

Like the ancient warriors before us,

You carried the hopes of your people

With grace that few could match.

The loneliness of my path was lighter

Because you walked beside me.

I release you now to join

The ranks of legends who came before.

Your battle is done, your victory complete.

Rest now, knowing you were more than a friend—

You were proof that even in this distant future,

The noblest hearts still beat.

You can go in peace, my friend.

Your memory will be my strength."

As Sky's words hung in the air, the shimmering barrier seemed to hum in resonance, as if the universe itself acknowledged the passing of a soul that had burned brighter than most. Firelez's lips moved faintly, his voice barely a whisper. "Gracias... hermano."

His anima flickered one final time, a burst of crimson light that danced across the stardust before fading into silence. Firelez's body stilled, his expression one of peace, a small smile etched into his face.

Sky closed his friend's eyes with the utmost care, his movements as steady as his resolve. He stayed kneeling, his hand lingering over Firelez's chest, feeling the absence of the anima's pulse. For a moment, he allowed himself the silence, the stillness, to honor what had just been lost.

Above them, the dragon's essence continued to swirl, its light fading but still holding the remnants of a story far greater than any one being. Death, still watching, inclined her head toward Sky in a gesture of solemn gratefulness before retreating into the shadows once more. Her presence was no longer needed here.

The universe whispers in colors mortals cannot see, but Cosmic Warriors perceive them all—yet none of these celestial hues can match the depth of human tears. They fall freely down his face, these droplets that catch starlight and hold it like memories, a friendship that transcended the ordinary bounds of Earth.

His friend lies still in his arms, the last champion of Latin America, now silent where once laughter and strategic planning for their next gaming session would have filled the space between them. Sky does not fight the sobs that rack his cosmic form—his Asperger's has always made him honest with his emotions, unbound by society's expectations of how a warrior or even a person should grieve. Why hide tears shed for love? Why mask pain born of loss?

The emptiness yawns before him like a black hole, threatening to swallow every shared moment: the late-night victories, the comfortable silences between rounds, the understanding that needed no words. His neurodivergent mind catalogs each memory with painful precision, knowing there will be no new ones to add to this collection. The DRD in Firelez's apartment will gather dust, the character select screen will never again highlight their favorite duo.

Then Aldric's voice cuts through the sacred silence of mourning, mockery dripping from every syllable as he speaks ill of the fallen champion. The words themselves matter less than their intent—the venomous tone, the audacity to desecrate this moment, to diminish a legacy written in championship glory and quiet friendship.

Slowly, Sky raises his head. Tears still stream down his face—he will not deny them, will not apologize for them—but now they catch the light differently, like stars collapsing into supernovae. Through the blur of grief, his eyes lock onto Aldric's smirking face.

The universe holds its breath, recognizing what humans cannot: that there is nothing more dangerous than a man who has nothing left to lose, nothing more terrible than a friend's love turned to righteous fury.

The air crackles with potential energy, ionizing like the moment before lightning splits the sky. Around them, the remnants of the dragon's stardust swirl, as if waiting to bear witness to what will come next.

But for now, there is only Sky's tear-streaked face, the weight of his friend in his arms, and the unshakable promise blazing in his constellation-bright eyes: Firelez's legacy will burn across the universe.