Chapter 10

Master Rebecca stood on the balcony of the ruined temple, her yellow laser sword resting at her side. The stars above, once symbols of hope, now felt distant—watching, but offering no solace. The Order of the Light had fallen. The Blue Swordfighters were no more. And Arthur sat upon the throne of the universe, victorious.

Yet, amidst the weight of loss, there was one thing she had found: Parker.

She turned as his presence filled the space beside her, his indigo laser sword clipped securely to his belt. He didn’t speak at first, just stood there, his eyes searching hers as if trying to find something even she had lost. The silence between them was not empty but brimming with unspoken emotions, a language only they understood.

“I keep thinking about what we could’ve done differently,” she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended.

Parker exhaled, his gaze shifting toward the horizon where the remains of their stronghold still smoldered. “We fought with everything we had, Rebecca. Losing doesn’t mean we failed.”

She clenched her jaw. “But it does mean we weren’t enough.”

Parker reached for her hand, hesitant at first, as though unsure if she would pull away. But when his fingers brushed against hers, she didn’t resist. It was a small touch, but it grounded her, reminded her that amidst the destruction, something still remained.

“Maybe we lost the war,” he said, “but we haven’t lost everything.”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes meeting his. Parker was always steady, always composed. But here, now, there was something raw in his expression. It was the same feeling she had carried in her heart since the last battle—something fragile yet undeniable.

“I never thought I’d still be standing after all of this,” she admitted. “Let alone... standing with you.”

He gave a small smile. “Neither did I. But here we are.”

The wind carried the scent of ash and earth, a reminder of all that was gone. But Rebecca found herself focusing on the warmth of Parker’s hand in hers, the steady rise and fall of his breath. It was terrifying, this feeling. Not the thrill of battle, not the certainty of a fight—but the vulnerability of allowing herself to care when she had lost so much.

She hesitated, then finally whispered, “I don’t know what happens next.”

Parker squeezed her hand gently. “Then we figure it out together.”

For the first time since their defeat, Rebecca felt something other than grief. It wasn’t quite hope, but it was close. And for now, that was enough.