We Excaped...But At What Cost

Takashima stood at the center of the bridge, watching the battlefield through the massive viewport. His hands were clenched behind his back, his usual sharp gaze locked onto the tactical display. The portal was nearly ready, the countdown ticking down, but they weren't safe yet.

He exhaled sharply.

"Status report."

"We are on the way..."

"Good. I'm starting the portaling!!"

Takashima turned, barking orders to the crew. The energy levels on the main display spiked, the ship's systems humming as the portal began to form. The countdown was ticking down—there was no turning back now.

"Make your way to the portal!" Takashima's voice snapped through the comms.

Markus yanked his controls, shifting his ship toward the swirling vortex ahead. "On it!"

Kai adjusted course beside him, thrusters flaring. "If we live long enough to get there."

The portal loomed ahead, a massive tear in space swirling with unstable energy. The evac ships were already funneling in, disappearing one by one into safety.

Almost there.

Then—alarms blared.

A swarm of enemy fighters burst from the wreckage, magic cannons flaring as they moved to intercept.

"Tch. Of course they're not gonna let us waltz in," Markus muttered, twisting his ship into a roll to avoid a surge of arcane fire. The air crackled as a bolt barely missed his wing, the raw energy distorting the space around it.

"We push through," Kai said, already adjusting his targeting systems.

"Easy for you to say."

The enemy fighters moved like a pack of wolves, cutting off every escape route. Glowing spell sigils flickered across their ships as they charged up for another barrage.

No choice.

Markus jerked his ship, barely slipping through a web of crackling magic. He spun his fighter into an inverted roll, coming up behind an enemy pilot before firing—boom! A bolt of compressed energy ripped through its core, sending the ship spiraling into nothingness.

Kai, always precise, lined up a clean shot and pierced through two enemy ships in one blast. The magical energy erupted upon impact, sending shockwaves through the debris.

"Seven," he muttered.

Markus clicked his tongue. "Not keeping score right now."

"Because you're behind."

"Shut up, Kai."

The battle blurred into a storm of explosions and shifting formations. Markus twisted through the chaos, rolling between enemy fire as he sent another fighter crashing into a wrecked warship. But for every one they destroyed, more replaced them.

Too many.

"Kai, this isn't working! We're getting boxed in!"

Kai didn't respond immediately. Instead, his ship drifted just close enough—for a brief second, their cockpits passed alongside each other.

Markus met his gaze.

Kai's face was unreadable as always, but Markus saw it—the tension in his grip, the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly.

They were in trouble.

Then the air shifted.

Something blurred past them.

Fast. Too fast.

An enemy fighter cut through the battlefield like a phantom, weaving between explosions like it had no weight, no hesitation. Markus barely had time to react before it twisted—coming straight at them.

His eyes flicked to the cockpit.

And then he saw him.

Satsujin.

Their eyes met through the glass.

He was smiling.

BOOM!

A blast of twisting gravity magic tore through Kai's left wing.

His ship lurched violently, alarms screaming as the frame shuddered from the impact.

"Shit—!"

Kai fought against the spin, struggling to stabilize, but his ship was badly hit. His left wing was barely holding together, arcs of magical energy crackling across its surface as the enchantments holding it intact began to fail.

"Kai!!" Markus shouted, his heart hammering.

Kai exhaled sharply, regaining just enough control to stay airborne. "Not good."

Markus' grip tightened around the controls as he looked ahead—Satsujin was still there, still watching.

Then, without hesitation, Satsujin's ship flickered—vanishing and reappearing in an instant, right behind them.

For the first time, Markus felt it.

They might not make it.

Kai's hands were tight on the controls, his vision blurred from the constant warning lights flashing across his screen. His ship was barely holding together, every movement dragging against him like he was flying through quicksand. The left wing was failing—no, it was gone. The arcane stabilizers were fried, sparks flickering across the cracked plating.

His magic core was overloading. The whole damn thing was seconds away from tearing itself apart.

Markus's voice cut through the comms, strained. "Kai!"

Kai didn't respond. His focus was on one thing—getting back.

He yanked the throttle forward, pushing his ship past its breaking point. The engine groaned, struggling under the sudden burst of acceleration, but it obeyed.

The portal was right there.

The moment his fighter hit the event horizon, everything lurched. The swirling mass of energy warped around him, dragging him into the transition point, space folding in on itself as he crossed through.

Then—BOOM!

His ship burst out the other side, the sudden shift in gravity throwing off what little control he had left. The Zenith's hangar bay rushed toward him at an alarming speed.

No time to slow down.

The landing gear failed to deploy.

His ship slammed into the hangar floor, skidding across the reinforced metal plating in a shower of sparks. The left wing ripped off completely, spinning off to the side before crashing into a stack of supply crates.

The ship twisted, the nose grinding hard against the surface before finally slamming into a support beam with a metallic crunch. The entire hangar shook from the impact.

Silence.

Smoke hissed from the wreckage. The hull groaned as it settled.

For a moment, nothing moved.

Then, the cockpit hatch burst open, and Kai stumbled out, barely catching himself on the side of the wreckage. His breathing was ragged, his glasses cracked from the force of the landing.

But he was alive.

And Markus was still out there.

Markus was almost there.

The portal was right in front of him, the swirling energy pulling at his damaged ship as he pushed his engines to their limit. Just a little more.

Then his cockpit flashed red.

Lock-on detected.

A warning alarm blared.

His blood ran cold.

Satsujin's voice crackled through the comms, smooth and amused. "Say hi to Mom and Dad for me."

Markus's breath caught.

Damn it!

Click.

The shot fired.

Markus knew it was coming—he had no choice. He had to act.

He yanked the controls, shifting the ship's angle just as the plasma bolt ripped through space, seconds away from impact.

Boom.

As soon as Markus made contact with the portal, the shot hit.

And it wasn't pretty.

The entire back half of his ship detonated on impact. The force threw him forward, the energy of the portal colliding with the shockwave of the blast. Metal and fire burst outward, pieces of the hull splintering apart as the remains of his fighter were sent spiraling into the abyss.

Satsujin didn't follow.

He didn't need to.

The bridge was tense, the only sounds coming from the low hum of the ship's systems and the faint crackle of static over the comms. Everyone was locked onto the main viewport, watching the portal with bated breath.

Arnik stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides. He had barely breathed since Kai came through in that wreck of a landing. But Markus… Markus was still out there.

Aika, still half-dazed from her injuries, sat upright, rubbing her eyes. "He's coming, right?" she murmured, voice groggy.

"He has to be," Rose muttered, arms crossed, but even she couldn't hide the tension in her voice.

Then, the portal flared.

"MARKUS IS COMING THROUGH!!!" someone shouted.

A collective breath of relief passed through the room.

Arnik exhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping. "Tch. About time."

Then they saw it.

The relief turned to horror.

Wreckage.

Scattered shards of metal tumbled out of the portal, Markus's fighter shattered beyond recognition. The remains spun wildly through the hangar's artificial gravity, sparks and debris scattering in every direction.

Silence gripped the bridge.

Arnik's eyes widened. His breath caught in his throat.

Rose took a step forward, her tail flicking uneasily. "No…"

Aika sat completely still, blinking slowly as if her mind was refusing to process what she was seeing.

Someone muttered, "No way… He… He didn't—"

Takashima's voice cut through the air, sharp and cold.

"Get a recovery team in the hangar. Now."

No one hesitated. The alarms rang through the ship as crew members rushed out, their voices barking orders as they sprinted toward the lower decks.

But on the bridge, everyone just stood there.

Watching.

Waiting.

The silence on the bridge was suffocating. Everyone was still, eyes locked onto the hangar doors, waiting for any word.

"He made it," someone muttered, half-convincing themselves. "Don't worry. Markus is too tough to go out like that."

"Yeah," another voice chimed in. "They're probably just digging him out of the wreckage. He's fine."

The tension didn't ease.

Aika clutched the sleeves of her uniform, her hands trembling as she stared at the comms console. She kept her breathing slow, trying to stop the pounding in her chest. Rose stood stiffly beside her, arms crossed so tightly her claws dug into her own skin.

Arnik didn't say anything. He just watched the door, fists clenched at his sides.

Then Andrew Handerfall walked in.

His expression said everything before he even opened his mouth.

Arnik's heart sank.

"I'm sorry," Andrew said. His voice was low, steady. It felt like a hammer to the gut. "Markus didn't make it through."

The words hung in the air, suffocating. No one spoke. No one moved.

Then he continued, and it somehow got worse.

"There's no sign of his body."

Rose's breath hitched.

"The explosion vaporized him."

For a moment, the world seemed to stop.

Then—

Aika let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"Ahhhhhhh!!!"

She collapsed to her knees, her entire body shaking as violent sobs tore through her. Her fingers dug into her scalp, nails scraping against her skin as she choked on her own breath. Her emerald eyes were bloodshot, filled with pure, raw agony.

"No… No, no, no, no—!"

She rocked back and forth, unable to stop the uncontrollable, violent cries that wracked her small frame.

Rose slammed her fist into the nearest console, cracking the screen. Her tail bristled, ears flattened against her head as rage overtook her grief.

"You better not be joking!" she roared, spinning to face Andrew, eyes blazing with fury. "Tell me this is a mistake! Tell me you got it wrong!"

Andrew didn't look away. He just stood there, silent, unwavering.

Rose's breath shook. Her entire body trembled as her nails dug into her palms.

Arnik didn't say a word.

His fingers curled into a fist, knuckles white. His chest felt tight, his stomach twisted into knots.

Markus was gone.

Just like that.

The silence on the bridge was suffocating. Everyone was still, eyes locked onto the hangar doors, waiting for any word.

"He made it," someone muttered, half-convincing themselves. "Don't worry. Markus is too tough to go out like that."

"Yeah," another voice chimed in. "They're probably just digging him out of the wreckage. He's fine."

The tension didn't ease.

Aika clutched the sleeves of her uniform, her hands trembling as she stared at the comms console. She kept her breathing slow, trying to stop the pounding in her chest. Rose stood stiffly beside her, her tail swishing back and forth in agitation.

Arnik didn't say anything. He just watched the door, fists clenched at his sides.

They weren't the only ones waiting.

Just across the room, the medics were crowded around Kai. His body lay completely still on the stretcher, hooked up to multiple machines keeping him stable. His uniform was torn, his skin pale from blood loss. The left side of his body was burnt, his breathing shallow.

Rose stood beside him, gripping his limp hand so tightly her nails could have drawn blood.

"Better not die, jerk," she muttered under her breath, voice shaking.

Kai didn't respond. He couldn't.

The only sound was the slow, steady beep of the monitor beside him.

Then the door opened.

Andrew Handerfall walked in.

His expression said everything before he even opened his mouth.

Arnik's heart sank.

"I'm sorry," Andrew said. His voice was low, steady. It felt like a hammer to the gut. "Markus didn't make it through."

The words hung in the air, suffocating. No one spoke. No one moved.

Then he continued, and somehow, it got worse.

"There's no sign of his body."

Rose's tail flicked sharply.

"The explosion vaporized him."

For a moment, the world seemed to stop.

Then—

Aika let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"Ahhhhhhh!!!"

She collapsed to her knees, her entire body shaking as violent sobs tore through her. Her fingers dug into her scalp, nails scraping against her skin as she choked on her own breath. Her emerald eyes were bloodshot, filled with pure, raw agony.

"No… No, no, no, no—!"

She rocked back and forth, unable to stop the uncontrollable, violent cries that wracked her small frame.

Rose slammed her fist into the nearest console, cracking the screen. Her tail bristled, ears flattened against her head as rage overtook her grief.

"You better not be joking!" she roared, spinning to face Andrew, eyes blazing with fury. "Tell me this is a mistake! Tell me you got it wrong!"

Andrew didn't look away. He just stood there, silent, unwavering.

Rose's breath shook. Her tail lashed violently behind her, her nails digging into her palms.

Then someone muttered, barely above a whisper.

"The cockpit… It was completely gone."

The finality of it hit like a crushing weight.

There was nothing left.

Arnik didn't say a word.

His fingers curled into a fist, knuckles white. His chest felt tight, his stomach twisted into knots.

Markus was gone.

Just like that.

Arnik walked past Andrew, his movements stiff, his mind drowning in static.

As he reached the doorway, a firm grip caught his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Andrew's voice was steady, but there was something behind it. Caution.

Arnik didn't turn around. "Bathroom."

Andrew frowned, his fingers tightening slightly. He looked into Arnik's face—into his eyes.

They were dark.

Empty.

Like he wasn't even there.

Andrew hesitated, then slowly let go.

"...Okay. Go."

Arnik didn't respond.

He just kept walking.

Arnik turned on the faucet, letting the cold water run over his hands. He splashed it onto his face, trying to clear the heaviness from his chest, but it didn't help.

He gripped the edges of the sink, his breathing unsteady. Slowly, he looked up at the mirror.

And then, it hit him.

A raw, aching sob tore from his throat. Not the quiet, restrained grief he had shown on the bridge—this was something deeper, something broken.

"He's gone…"

His shoulders shook as he clenched his jaw, his face twisting with frustration, with helplessness.

"Down there… we didn't stand a chance against those demon users…"

His fingers dug into the sink's edges, knuckles turning white. His breathing grew ragged.

Then—CRACK.

His fist slammed into the metal sink, shattering it on impact. Water burst from the broken pipes, splashing over the floor, but he didn't care.

"I was completely useless…"

His voice trembled with rage. His whole body did.

Markus was gone.

And he hadn't been able to do a damn thing.

"I have the damn power of the Spirit!!!"

Arnik's voice echoed through the empty restroom, mixing with the hiss of water gushing from the destroyed sink. His fists trembled, veins bulging under his skin.

"Markus… he had none of it. Not a single drop."

He exhaled sharply, his breath uneven.

"Yet… he was so strong… He was able to go toe to toe with me…"

His gaze lifted to the ceiling, his eyes burning, not just from anger but from something deeper.

"Spirit… why…"

His hands curled into fists again, his nails digging into his palms.

Then he yelled.

"I need to get stronger!!!"

His voice rang out, raw, desperate, demanding something—anything—from whatever power was listening.

Because if he stayed like this… if he stayed this weak…

He would lose everything

Arnik curled up onto the wet floor, his knees drawn to his chest, water pooling around him from the broken sink. His breathing was uneven, ragged. He felt hollow, like something had been ripped out of him.

Slowly, his gaze drifted to the mirror, catching his own reflection through the fractured glass.

He looked so different from back then…

Only nineteen. Almost twenty.

It had almost been two years since he became a soldier.

His eyes—once darker, softer—had sharpened into a bright, piercing blue. His hair, longer and unkempt, clung to his forehead in damp strands. His face, once youthful, had grown more rugged, his features harder, more defined.

More like his father's.

He swallowed hard.

"I must win…" he whispered.

His fingers dug into his arms, gripping so tightly his nails left marks.

"And win no matter what…"

His breath shuddered.

"No matter who is lost."

Then, suddenly—arms wrapped around him.

Warm. Small. Shaking.

He stiffened.

Aika was holding onto him, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. Her grip was tight, desperate, like if she let go, he'd disappear.

"Aika…"

He was about to push her away—he needed to be alone.

But her grip only tightened.

"No!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Please… don't!"

Her entire body trembled against him, but she didn't let go.

"Don't… change."

Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

"Don't change, Arnik…"

He froze.

She was crying.

Her fingers clutched onto his uniform like she was holding on for dear life.

"You're still Arnik Handerfall! The Arnik Handerfall from Earth… the one I'm friends with…"

Her breathing hitched as she swallowed back her sobs.

"The one who, when Kai needed money for his tuition, got a job at the same restaurant to help him pay."

His chest clenched.

"The one who, when my cat died, helped me bury it far outside the city… into the woods. You stayed with me until sunrise."

Arnik's throat tightened.

Aika lifted her head, her emerald eyes burning through him, filled with raw emotion.

"Markus wouldn't want you to sob over him!"

She pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, her grip still strong.

"What he'd want… what he'd want is for us to fight!"

Her voice grew louder, fiercer.

"To destroy every damn demon that took him from us!"

Her words hit like a bolt to the chest.

Arnik clenched his jaw, his breath shaking.

For a long moment, he just stared at her, his mind spinning, his heart aching.

Then, slowly… his hands stopped trembling.

Arnik gripped Aika and pulled her close, holding her tightly. His arms trembled, but he didn't let go.

"I won't change…" he whispered. "I swear."

Aika didn't say anything. She just held onto him, her small frame shaking against his.

Outside the bathroom door, Rose stood motionless.

She could hear everything.

Her tail flicked behind her, slow and restless, her hands balled into fists at her sides. She didn't cry—not here, not now—but her chest ached, and her throat felt tight.

With a deep breath, she turned and walked away, heading back to the med bay.

"Dummy…" she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible. "Why did you go and die on us…"

Rose stepped into the med bay, the dim lights casting a soft glow over the quiet space. 

Kai lay motionless, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. His body was wrapped in bandages, patches of his skin burned and bruised from the fight. The sight of him like this—so still, so fragile—made something in Rose's chest tighten.

She pulled up a chair beside his bed, moving slowly, almost hesitantly.

Her tail, which had been restless with frustration and grief, finally settled, curling gently over her lap as she sat down.

Without thinking, she leaned forward, resting her head lightly against his chest.

The warmth of his body, the slow but steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear—it was grounding. A reminder that at least he was still here.

Her breath was quiet, but her eyes were heavy, the exhaustion pressing down on her in a way she hadn't let herself feel until now.

She closed her eyes.

Just for a moment.

Her tail stretched out lazily, draping softly over the edge of the bed, unmoving for the first time in hours.

Kai didn't wake up.

But the steady sound of his heartbeat was enough.