Seventy: The Upcoming Crisis

Hyades City, Exterior Ward

Spring Court, Hidden World

Terra, Gaea Solar system

Milky Way Galaxy,

Neutral Free Zone

March 27th 2019

"A Cleansing?" Sam asked, her voice sharp as she caught the uneasy looks exchanged between Leon and Emily. She didn't like the tension she saw in their faces. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

Sophia held her gaze, her expression calm but unreadable. However, the faint flicker of unease in her eyes betrayed the weight of the words she was about to say. "The Pleiadians from Sector Zero are mobilizing. They plan to purge anything—or anyone—they deem a threat to their control. This isn't just about you or Sam. It's about resetting the balance of power across the galaxy."

Rex's voice cut through the room with quiet authority. "A Cleansing is a ritual performed by Starlight to purify a planet infected by Infernal energy," he explained. "Like many sentient races, planets can also fall victim to corruption. When a planet succumbs, it transforms into what we call a Forsaken—an entity of unspeakable horror. Starlight uses a Cleansing to stop the descent into depravity."

"Or to obliterate the planet," Leon added grimly. His eyes narrowed as a realization struck him like lightning. "The Fallen Beasts, the creation of the Blackearth virus... none of this is a coincidence. These events were orchestrated to provide 'evidence'—justifiable reasons for authorizing a Cleansing. Isn't that right?"

Emily nodded her voice tight with anger. "The Federation won't authorize a Cleansing unless they believe there's an imminent and credible threat to the galaxy."

"And Mallus, the leader of Sector Zero, handed them that threat," Sophia said bitterly. "He ensured the Beast King Sirius and his soldiers were given safe passage into Terra."

"A Pleiadian working with an Abomination," Rosa interjected, her tone dripping with disdain. "Doesn't that go against your self-righteous principles?

"Mallus isn't your typical Pleiadian," Sophia said, her voice cold and measured. "He doesn't care for righteousness or moral ethics. As an Ascendant who has lived for more than a millennium, he's a man who values only the end result. He'll use any means or tools at his disposal to uphold the dogma of the Divine Federation—the so-called Divine Peace. If that means allying with Abominations to achieve his goals, then so be it."

"Or attacking the Federation itself," Leon added, his tone dark with understanding. "He's the one who orchestrated the Uprising, isn't he? He exploited your activism to plan the whole thing, framing the Fallen Stars as terrorists to turn the Federation's population against your group."

Sophia's eyes hardened, but she nodded. "Yes."

Leon leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "And what role does Delacroix play in all this? I always suspected he was aligned with the Fallen Stars, but according to Freya—your spy—Delacroix appears to be working with Mallus."

"It seems Delacroix was working directly under Mallus," Rex said, his tone grave. "He's been supplying Mallus with the resources needed to carry out Project Starseed." Reaching into his dimensional band, Rex pulled out a sleek device. "In here is the evidence of Delacroix's involvement in the Uprising—proof that he provided the weapons used. Mallus used this as leverage to keep Delacroix under his control, forcing him to act as his pawn."

He handed the device to Leon, who took it with a grim expression. Without a word, Leon connected the drive to his Zodiak. Emily stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as the two began reviewing the data together.

As Leon read through the files, his jaw tightened, and his hands clenched the Zodiak with white-knuckled force. The more he uncovered, the harder it became to suppress the storm of emotions brewing inside him. His teeth ground together audibly, and a faint trickle of blood seeped from his mouth where he'd bitten down too hard. Leon's mind drifted back to the last time he'd seen that bastard. He had confronted Delacroix, suspecting his ties to Vashin Priyham, and remembered the promise he'd made that day—a promise to end him if he found proof of his guilt. With the evidence in hand, Leon's blood boiled, his body trembling as he tried to rise to his feet. A pure, unfiltered desire to kill burned in his mind.

"Don't bother," Sophia said calmly, though her voice carried a faint edge. "Delacroix has fled Terra with the arrival of the Cleansing."

"If only you'd hunted him down like you said you would, Pendragon," Titus said with a biting tone.

Rex interjected, his voice laced with a casual coolness that only barely masked his irritation. "I would've liked to, but I knew Leon would want a piece of him." Rex's gaze flickered toward Leon. "Delacroix can always be dealt with later."

"Rex is right. With the Celestial Realignment fast approaching, we're in a precarious situation," Sophia said, her tone measured. "Which is why—"

Before she could finish, Leon, who had been standing, suddenly clutched his chest. His eyes widened in pain as a scorching heat tore through his heart, causing him to gasp. Staggering backward, he caught the attention of everyone in the room.

Sam noticed Leon's condition before the others, her heart pounded erratically as she shot up from her seat. She rushed to his side just as steam began to rise from his body, his temperature spiking dangerously. Leon's breaths came in ragged gasps before he suddenly doubled over, vomiting blood.

"Leon!" Emily and Sam shouted in unison, both kneeling by his side. Panic laced their voices as they tried to steady him, but Leon's condition rapidly worsened.

A wave of dizziness crashed over him, disorienting him completely. His surroundings spun in a sickening blur, and vertigo gnawed at his senses. The strength of his will, the fragile thread keeping him conscious, unraveled. His body slumped as darkness began to take hold.

****

In the depths of Leon's Soul Realm, nothing remained but a shattered, desolate expanse. The once vibrant landscape had been torn asunder by a relentless cyclone of darkness, its thousands of swirling mists spiraling at such ferocious speed that they had consumed everything in their path. What was once a vast, celestial expanse dotted with twinkling, star-like constructs was now a hollow abyss, devoured entirely by the encroaching shadow.

The air—if it could even be called that—felt heavy with despair, a silence so profound it pressed down like a suffocating weight. The darkness churned and twisted, an endless vortex of chaos that seemed to hunger for more, its tendrils writhing with the promise of further destruction.

In the heart of the broken expanse hung a fractured sun, its former majesty reduced to a haunting shadow of what it once was. Once a radiant beacon of life and power, it now hovered precariously in the void, its light dimmed to faint, flickering embers struggling against the encroaching darkness. Jagged fractures crisscrossed its surface, weeping streams of molten energy that cascaded like tears of despair. The golden brilliance that had once defined it was no more, replaced by a sickly, ashen glow that barely held the darkness at bay.

The cracks widened with each agonizing moment, and the sun's core began to buckle inward, as though crushed by an invisible, overwhelming force. The collapse birthed a shadowy sphere around it—a suffocating event horizon, where even the faintest glimmers of light were swallowed whole. The surrounding landscapes, already shattered and broken, were irresistibly drawn toward the growing void. Mountains twisted unnaturally, their forms warping as gravity distorted everything in its grasp, pulling the remnants of Leon's Soul Realm into the abyss.

The scene was an unrelenting portrait of despair and decay, a visceral reminder of a soul teetering on the brink of annihilation. Leon watched the collapse of his Soul Realm, his dull, weary inner self silently observing the relentless disintegration. The once-vivid landscape of his soul was now a battlefield of chaos and decay. He sighed, the weight of his realization pressing heavily on his fractured will.

"You can't stop it anymore, can you?" Leon muttered, his voice hollow as the dark entity emerged from the swirling abyss. Shadows coalesced into a figure—his shadow—rising from the void like an echo of his will, twisted and incomplete.

"You should've killed that Capricorn bastard," the entity said, its voice sharp and accusing, cutting through the chaos like a knife. "His Ability Factor is still active, limiting your defenses, and making my job harder."

Leon thought of Nabu, the Capricorn whose cursed Ability Factor lingered, its effects stripping him of his body's natural ability to fight back. His sickness had festered unchecked, a seed watered by his reckless expenditure of mana in battle. Every action had shortened his lifespan, tightening the noose around his neck.

"How long do I have?" Leon asked, his voice resigned, almost defeated.

The entity tilted its shadowy head mockingly, its indistinct features forming a grim smile. "A day? A week? Maybe a month... Who knows?" It sighed theatrically.

Leon crouched down, his arms wrapping around his knees as if shielding himself from the crushing weight of his mortality. "I guess this is it for me," he muttered, his voice trembling with quiet despair. "I never thought much about dying. Being a Paladin, fighting Abominations, protecting lives—every battle, every sacrifice... I never really believed it would end like this. And now..."

"Now you're dying," the entity finished bluntly, its words carrying neither malice nor comfort.

Leon lowered his head, his fingers clutching his hair as if trying to hold himself together. "There's so much I haven't done yet," he whispered, his voice cracking.

The entity's dark form loomed closer, its tone softer, almost curious. "Do you have regrets?"

Leon's eyes drifted to the broken sun—now a black hole consuming all light and hope. Faint whispers emanated from its shadowed depths, distorted echoes of his voice. Each one accused him of his failures, an endless chorus of condemnation. The voices of those whose lives he had taken, twisted and warped, pierced his soul. The memory of the Fuyuki incident washed over him.

"Regrets..." Leon echoed his voice a mixture of bitterness and sorrow. He glanced at his hands filled with so much blood. "I see their faces. I hear their screams. I feel their pain. Every life I took, the choices I made back then... it's all there. It never leaves me."

The entity crouched before him, its shadowy form unnervingly still. "Then why do you sit here, wallowing in self-pity? Regrets mean nothing if you're unwilling to act on them."

Leon clenched his fists, trembling with frustration and anguish. "Act on them? How? I'm broken—look around you. There's nothing left."

"Not nothing," the entity said, its voice low and haunting. "There's still her."

At the mention of her, Leon froze. Images of Sam flooded his mind—her unwavering determination, her gentle smile, and the fire in her eyes that always seemed to ignite something in him. Her beautiful visage appeared before him like a beacon in the encroaching void, pulling him back from the edge.

Leon felt something stir within him—a flicker of life in the desolation of his soul. He rose shakily to his feet, his hands clenching into fists as the thought of her made his heart—or at least the fractured remnant of his Inner self's heart—beat faster.

"You're right," Leon said, his voice gaining strength. "Sam needs me now, more than ever. I can't stay here, wallowing in self-pity for what I did in the past."

The entity chuckled darkly, its shadowy form twisting with amusement. "Hehe! That's the spirit, boy. Who knows what the future holds... who knows... you might just make it."

Leon scoffed, a dry laugh escaping him as he glanced at the collapsing remains of his Soul Realm. "Hmm. I wouldn't put much faith in that," he said wryly.

The entity tilted its head, observing him with an unreadable expression.

"But at this moment," Leon continued, his tone resolute, "all I care about is making sure Sam's alright."

The entity said nothing for a moment, the silence heavy between them. Then, with a knowing grin, it stepped back into the swirling shadows. "Then stop wasting time," it said, its voice fading like a whisper on the wind. "Go to her."

Leon looked up at the broken sun—his inner light. Even as it fractured, he felt a faint warmth flicker from its dying embers, fueled by the strength of his resolve.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Leon took a step forward. The darkness around him clawed and pulled, but he pushed through it. His thoughts were no longer clouded by despair but focused on one thing: getting back to Sam.

Because as long as she was there, he had a reason to fight.

****

Sam sat silently by Leon's bedside, her head resting on her arms as she tried to piece together all the fragmented information she had accumulated. The weight of it all was crushing, her thoughts spinning in endless circles. But it was hard to concentrate—not when Leon was lying there, death creeping closer with every passing moment.

She glanced at his face, pale and strained even in unconsciousness, and the reality of his condition slammed into her like a tidal wave. The tears she had been fighting back welled up again, blurring her vision. Just when she had lost Stella, and the pain of that loss was still fresh, the news that Leon was dying felt like it was ripping apart the fragile threads of her heart.

Sam didn't have much left in life—hardly anything, really. After her dad's death, Stella had been her anchor, her only connection to the world. But even that had been severed. She'd never managed to make friends. She never fit in at school, her shy nature and awkwardness keeping others at bay. College had been no better—every attempt to form connections there had ended in shallow, surface-level interactions. Henry and Rosa were kind, but they were distant, as if a wall she couldn't break down separated her from them.

But then she met Leon.

Sam's thoughts drifted back to the first time she saw him through the portal. It felt so vivid in her memory like it had happened just yesterday. She hadn't understood it then, but there had been something about him—something magnetic, as though an invisible thread tied them together, pulling her toward him. When he saved her and the others in the Echo Field, their destiny had become somehow tied together...or maybe it was even their tied destiny that led him to her. Her mind spiraled back to the assassins—that terrifying moment when she thought her life might end, and Leon had stepped in, putting himself between her and death without hesitation. And then there was Cedar Lake, where he had fought alongside her to save not just her, but everyone who depended on them. He had always been there, like a beacon in her darkest moments, grounding and calming her.

And now, here he was, slipping away, and she could do nothing to stop it.

Sam's hands balled into fists on the edge of the bed, her nails digging into her palms. The frustration, the helplessness—it was unbearable. "Why does everyone I care about get taken from me?" she whispered to herself, her voice breaking as tears spilled freely down her cheeks.

She reached out, taking Leon's hand in hers. His skin felt warm, almost feverish, but the strength she had always felt in him was gone.

"I won't let you die, Leon," she said softly, her voice trembling but resolute. "Not you. Not after everything. You saved me so many times... now it's my turn to save you. Somehow, I'll figure it out." Sam closed her eyes, letting her forehead rest against the back of his hand. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to hope—hope that there was still a way to pull him back from the brink. Because she couldn't lose him. Not him. Not now. 

"I'm not going anywhere," Leon's voice broke through the heavy silence.

Sam's head shot up in shock, her breath catching as she saw his eyes open. He was awake. A weak smile tugged at his lips, but she could see the pain etched into his expression, the strain in his every breath.

"Leon..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do? I can call the doctor—"

She moved to stand, but before she could, Leon's hand grasped hers. His grip was weak, yet firm enough to stop her.

"Stay," he said hoarsely.

Sam froze, staring at him. His body was burning with fever, his entire system corroded by the sickness that ravaged him from within. It had progressed to the point where even his sheer willpower could no longer suppress it. And yet, despite the agony that must have been tearing through him, he still tried to act like it didn't matter.

He still smiled, still putting on that nonchalant expression, as if defying death itself.

Sam swallowed hard, blinking away the sting in her eyes. She squeezed his hand gently, grounding herself in the warmth of his touch.

"I'm here," she murmured, tears spilling out. "I'm not going anywhere."