Moment of Truth

Saint still had his pistol aimed at Nuke's vitals.

Nuke scoffed.

"I told you. Bullets won't hurt me."

Saint smirked. Looking overly-confident.

"And I told you that I don't just use regular bullets."

Nuke laughed at Saint's ignorance and attitude.

"You're still the same cocky so-and-so. But you're efforts won't work."

Saint looked down, closed his eyes, and relaxed. 

Nuke gave a look of surprise. But he then laughed uproariously.

Saint ignored him. His eyes still closed. He was talking to himself inside.

"This is it." he whispered.

Nuke was now looking confused.

"Come in. Open up." he whisered again.

Just then, his eyes opened dramatically. His eyes now fully blue. 

This was much to Nuke's surprise.

Saint's eyes weren't just blue. They were glowing. Flame-like.

Nuke took a step back.

"Wait... What?!"

Saint smirked. Still looking up. He drew both pistols. In a crossed position. 

"I'm sorry. But this is the end, Nuke."

Nuke now fell to his knees.

"How? How have you become so strong since then?"

Saint, now smiling, looks nuke in the eyes.

"Practice. And admitting that I was weak. Then learning from that experience."

Nuke holds his hands up in defeat. Impressed with Saint and his demeanor. 

"Alright. You win."

Saint stepped forward slowly, pistols still drawn, the eerie blue glow of his awakened eyes casting faint shadows on the twisted vines around them.

Nuke remained on his knees, his once-proud frame shivering under the weight of realization. The unnatural aura that had possessed him for so long seemed to waver—cracks forming in the darkness around his limbs like glass under pressure.

"You win," Nuke muttered again, eyes heavy. "Guess you really did surpass me."

Saint didn't lower his guns. Not yet.

"I didn't want to surpass you," he said quietly. "I wanted us all to make it out. But you made that choice for us. You threw yourself into the fire."

"I had no choice," Nuke snapped, guilt flooding into his voice. "They left us to die. If I hadn't... that thing would've devoured the rest of you."

Saint's voice didn't waver. "You turned yourself into a monster to save us. And maybe that was noble. But you let the monster keep you."

A silence passed.

Then Nuke let out a long, shaky breath.

"You were the only one who ever challenged me. I saw it in you. The fire. But you were raw. Untrained."

Saint's glow pulsed brighter, the blue in his eyes flaring. "And now?"

Nuke looked up at him, hollow-eyed and weary. "Now you're the one with the fire. I see that."

For a moment, the warped garden fell into stillness. The vines stopped twitching. The air calmed.

Saint finally lowered his pistols.

"This trial wasn't about killing you. It was about forgiving you."

Nuke blinked, stunned. "Forgive me?"

Saint nodded. "You did what you thought was right. But you forgot who you were trying to protect. You became something else. Something that hurt more than it saved."

Nuke's hands trembled, and black smoke began leaking from the corners of his eyes.

"Then end it," he whispered. "Let me go."

"No."

Saint holstered his weapons and stepped forward, placing a hand on Nuke's shoulder. The shadows recoiled at first, hissing, but the light in Saint's body surged through, washing over the former commander.

"You made the sacrifice. I carry the lesson."

Nuke's eyes fluttered as the darkness cracked and flaked away, piece by piece, like scales falling off a wounded creature.

Light broke through.

His armor faded. His face—worn, scarred, older—returned. The crimson glow vanished, replaced by a dull warmth.

"I… remember who I was…" he breathed.

Saint gave a small nod. "Rest, Captain."

A blinding column of blue flame erupted from beneath Nuke, wrapping around him like a cocoon of redemption. His body dissolved into particles of light, scattering across the garden like fireflies.

Then silence.

Total, beautiful silence.

Saint stepped back as the air around him shifted. The twisted garden began to heal—vines returning to green, flowers blooming once more, and the blood-red skies above softening into twilight.

A soft chime echoed from the far end of the chamber.

The doors to the next trial opened.

Saint let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "That was a hell of a therapy session."

Behind him, Dreyl's voice echoed through the newly reformed hallway.

"You good?"

Saint turned, smiling slightly. "I'm better than good."

Dreyl raised an eyebrow as he approached. "I felt the energy shift from all the way back in the main chamber. You really ended him?"

Saint shook his head. "No. I saved what was left."

Dreyl gave a rare, respectful nod. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"Neither did I," Saint said, walking beside him. "But I'm learning."

As they passed through the corridor, a symbol etched itself onto Saint's coat—an ancient sigil of flame and balance, marking him as one who had passed the Garden of Temptation.

"You realize the next trial's mine, right?" Dreyl muttered.

"Looking forward to it," Saint replied, then grinned. "Bet it won't be nearly as dramatic as mine."

Dreyl rolled his eyes. "Don't jinx it."

Saint looked back one final time. At the chamber where he faced his past. At the place he finally found peace.

Then he turned forward.

Ready for what came next.