Scene: Inside the Shadowed Cathedral of Orynthal, three days after Drevan's appearance.
Adexander stood before a shattered altar, blood still dripping from his knuckles. The silence inside the cathedral was deafening—thick with the memories of prayers never answered. Velessia leaned on a pillar nearby, her usually sharp eyes clouded with unease.
Kael was sharpening his blade, but even he glanced up. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?"
Adexander didn't answer. His crimson eyes were locked on the ruined sigil etched into the altar. The very symbol that had once united him and Drevan in the early days.
Velessia finally broke the silence.
"I dug into his past. Into yours. There's something you never told us."
Adexander's gaze didn't move.
"Go on," he said, voice hollow.
She stepped closer, hesitant. "Before the betrayal… before the Crimson Throne… there was a woman."
Adexander froze.
Kael looked between them, confused. "A woman?"
Velessia nodded. "Her name was Lysira."
The name was a blade. And it cut deep.
Adexander's knuckles turned white. The memories poured back—warm smiles, stolen glances in war camps, whispered vows in blood-stained silence. Lysira had been the bridge between two brothers. She had been everything.
But she had died.
And her death had broken Drevan.
Flashback – The Day Lysira Fell
They had fought side by side. Adexander, Drevan, and Lysira—the trio the world called The Crimson Star. When Lysira died, it wasn't to an enemy blade. It was to a commanded sacrifice—one Adexander had given to win the war.
He had never told Drevan the truth.
"I had no choice," Adexander whispered aloud in the cathedral, the echo of the past shaking him.
Velessia said nothing. Kael's blade paused mid-sharpen.
Drevan had loved her. Not just as a comrade… but beyond anything Adexander had ever known. And Adexander, the tactician, the leader—he had gambled her life and won the war.
But lost his brother.
---
Back in the present – atop the Cathedral
Lightning cracked the sky. A figure stepped into view.
Drevan.
"I see the pieces are falling into place," he said. His voice was quiet, yet it thundered louder than the storm.
Adexander didn't move.
"You killed her," Drevan said, emotion finally bleeding into his words. "You didn't lift the blade, but you condemned her."
Adexander's eyes narrowed. "I made a choice. One you would've made if it had been me."
Drevan's expression twisted. "You arrogant bastard. That's what you never understood. I would've burned the world to save her. You chose the world over her."
The storm raged, lightning tearing the sky in half.
And Adexander, standing in the ruin of a godless place, whispered:
"I would choose it again."
Silence.
And then Drevan drew his blade, black and burning with hatred.
"Then I'll burn the world you saved."