Chapter 2– Escape Into the Sky

The world was burning.

Flames licked at the crumbling walls as the rebel stronghold collapsed around them. The air was thick with smoke, gunfire echoing through the corridors, mingling with the guttural cries of dying men.

Kael ran, the stolen blade still slick with synthetic blood. The stolen Seraphic sword was balanced, efficient, but soulless. Not his Celestial Cleaver—not the weapon forged for him.

But for now, it would do.

Ahead of him, Elyndra moved with lethal precision. Her daggers flashed in the darkness, slicing through the throat of a cybernetic enforcer before it could fire. She didn't hesitate—one fluid motion, from kill to sprint.

Arkan was behind them, covering their retreat with sharp, disciplined rail-pistol shots. He moved like a man who had survived too many battles—never reckless, always methodical.

More Ascended forces were flooding into the stronghold. They moved in brutal, calculated formations, adapting to resistance with terrifying efficiency.

And the worst part? Kael knew they weren't even the real threat yet.

They were only the vanguard.

🚀 The Hangar Bay –

The hangar doors loomed ahead, half-shattered from the bombardments. Beyond them, Kael saw the wastelands stretching beneath the night sky—charred plains, remnants of a world once ruled by gods.

And above it, Ascended warships hovered like sentinels, sleek and merciless.

The rebels were already falling back to their ships, cargo haulers and stolen Ascended skiffs firing up their engines.

But Kael wasn't looking for an escape ship.

He was looking for his Leviathan.

Then, he felt it.

A shuddering pulse of energy—a tether in his mind snapping taut.

Veyrith was close.

And he was angry.

Elyndra skidded to a stop beside him, glancing at the sky. "Tell me you have a way out of here."

Kael lifted his gaze to the storm-lit heavens.

Lightning crackled across the atmosphere. The clouds shifted—no, parted.

And then, from the darkness, came a shadow that swallowed the stars.

Veyrith had arrived.

The first thing Kael saw were the eyes.

Burning silver. Ancient. Furious.

Then the wings—vast and endless, casting the battlefield in shadow.

Veyrith was not a dragon. He was something older, something carved from the first storms, once bound to the Reapers as a war-beast of the skies.

Now, he was the last of his kind.

And he had come for his rider.

The sheer force of his arrival tore through the battlefield like a hurricane.

The wind pressure alone sent enemy soldiers staggering. The Ascended drop-ships veered off course, metal plating groaning under the sudden shift in gravity.

Kael felt the connection between them ignite again, raw and unfiltered.

He barely had time to move before Veyrith struck.

The Leviathan descended like a falling star, his clawed forelimbs slamming down into the hangar.

The impact shattered the floor beneath them.

A dozen Ascended soldiers were crushed instantly. Others were hurled like debris as Veyrith unleashed a bone-rattling roar.

Kael barely held his ground. The sound was not just noise—it was force, power, something that rippled through the air like a seismic wave.

Elyndra cursed, shielding her face from the blast. "By the void—"

Arkan just stared. "You weren't joking about the exit plan."

Kael grinned. "He's impatient."

Veyrith turned his head toward Kael.

And in that moment, Kael knew.

The beast was not pleased.

You abandoned me.

The words weren't spoken, but Kael felt them. A deep, cutting accusation, ancient and raw.

The Leviathan shifted, his serpentine form coiling, wings folding slightly as he crouched, prepared to strike again.

Kael exhaled slowly. "Not the time, Veyrith."

A pause.

Then, a sound.

Not from the Leviathan.

From above.

Kael's body moved before his mind processed.

He grabbed Elyndra, shoving her down. "MOVE—"

And then, the sky exploded.

From the warship above, a figure dropped.

Not a soldier. Not a machine.

Something worse.

A Seraph.

Unlike the earlier enforcers, this one bore the mark of command.

His body was sleek silver and gold, wings of pure plasma unfolding as he landed. His face—**if it could be called that—**was a polished, featureless mask, except for the burning sigil in its center.

A voice rang out, smooth and inhuman.

"Kael Varathen."

Kael rolled his shoulders, adjusting his grip on his stolen blade. "Ah. You know me."

The Seraph lifted a long, gleaming weapon.

A spear.

Heaven's Maw.

Kael recognized it. A god-killer's weapon. A relic from the Last War.

And it was pointed at him.

"Your existence is a violation of order."

Kael exhaled, cracking his neck. "So is your face, but here we are."

The Seraph moved.

Kael barely blocked the first strike—the force of it sent shockwaves through his bones.

The spear burned through the air like a comet, each strike precise, calculated. Kael parried, barely staying ahead of the attack.

His stolen sword wasn't enough.

He needed his own weapon.

As if hearing his thoughts, Veyrith's tail lashed forward.

Kael twisted, reached—

His fingers closed around something familiar.

Cold, heavy, pulsing with latent energy.

The Celestial Cleaver.

The sword shifted in his grip, recognizing its master.

Kael turned, swinging just as the Seraph lunged.

Steel met divine energy.

And the sky split apart.

The impact rippled through the battlefield.

Kael's Celestial Cleaver met Heaven's Maw in a clash of power that sent a shockwave blasting outward, tearing chunks of stone from the hangar floor. The force was enough to throw nearby rebels and Ascended soldiers off their feet.

For a fraction of a second, the world stood still.

Then the Seraph pressed forward.

His spear sang through the air, glowing with divine energy. Kael twisted, parrying with a brutal upward sweep of his blade. Sparks flew as metal screamed against metal.

The Seraph was fast. Too fast for anything mortal. His movements weren't human—because he wasn't.

Kael barely dodged the next strike. The spear's tip sliced through the air where his throat had been a heartbeat before.

Then the Seraph vanished.

Kael's instincts screamed. He turned—

Too late.

The spear drove into his side, puncturing through flesh and armor.

Kael snarled, staggering back, his ribs burning. The blade hadn't gone deep enough to kill—but it had been a warning.

The Seraph didn't gloat. He didn't need to.

"You are obsolete, Sky Reaper."

Kael spat blood onto the floor. "Yeah? So's your mother."

The Seraph struck again.

Kael moved.

This time, he wasn't just reacting.

This time, he was hunting.

He blocked the next strike and countered—hard. His sword morphed in his hands, shifting from greatsword to war axe in the blink of an eye.

He swung. A single, brutal arc.

The Seraph barely evaded.

But Kael had expected that.

He pivoted, catching the Seraph's extended arm mid-dodge, twisting sharply.

There was a sharp metallic snap.

The Seraph's arm broke at the joint.

For the first time, the cybernetic god stumbled.

Kael didn't hesitate. He drove his knee into the Seraph's chest, then spun, swinging the Cleaver down in a decapitating strike.

The Seraph disappeared in a burst of speed.

Kael exhaled sharply, blood dripping from his wound.

"Elyndra," he called.

She was still fighting off enforcers, her twin daggers slicing through Ascended armor. She barely glanced at him. "Bit busy."

Kael's gaze flicked to the battlefield. The Seraph wasn't dead—he had retreated, regrouping near the enemy lines.

And more were coming.

The Ascended had seen enough.

The warships above shifted.

The cannons on their underbellies began to glow.

Kael's stomach turned to ice.

"They're about to wipe this whole place."

Elyndra's head snapped up. Her expression darkened. "Then we're leaving."

"I need my Leviathan."

Elyndra's eyes flicked to Veyrith, still locked in combat, tearing through Ascended forces with wing and claw.

"Get to him. I'll cover you."

Kael hesitated.

For a moment, he wasn't sure why.

Then he nodded once. "Try not to die."

Elyndra smirked, spinning a dagger in her grip. "No promises."

Then Kael ran—straight into the fire.

Kael reached Veyrith just as another explosion rocked the hangar.

The Leviathan snapped his wings open, sending a powerful gust through the battlefield. His silver eyes locked onto Kael.

He crouched slightly. A silent command.

Mount. Now.

Kael didn't hesitate. He leaped, grabbing onto the Leviathan's plated scales, swinging himself onto the war-beast's back.

Veyrith launched into the air.

The sky exploded around them.

Ascended warships opened fire, streaks of burning plasma lancing through the darkness. Anti-air cannons roared as rebel ships tried to return fire, their engines burning hot as they began their retreat.

Kael held tight as Veyrith twisted mid-air, dodging incoming fire. The Leviathan's wings beat hard, propelling them up—higher, faster, into the storm-choked sky.

Kael could feel it now.

The old bond.

The connection that had been severed for too long.

And he felt Veyrith's rage.

The war-beast had waited for him. Had suffered without him. And now, he was done waiting.

A deep, guttural growl rumbled from the Leviathan's throat.

Kael didn't need to give an order.

Veyrith dove.

The Leviathan descended upon the Ascended fleet like a living storm.

Kael gripped his blade tight. The wind ripped at his skin, the heat from the plasma fire burning through the cold.

He smiled.

Then, he leapt.

Straight onto the nearest warship.