Levanzo grinned, his grotesque mouth curling into a twisted smile. "Ah, so you've forgotten. But your body hasn't—it remembers. Every wound, every loss. Let me remind you."
Before Alastor could react, Levanzo lashed out, his clawed tendrils striking the sterile floor with a deafening crash. The force sent a shockwave rippling outward, but Alastor stood firm, his boots grinding against the cracked surface as he absorbed the impact.
Levanzo followed up immediately, his form surging forward in a chaotic flurry of limbs and jagged tendrils. Alastor ducked under one swing and deflected another with a barrier of shimmering starlight, but the alien was relentless. Each strike from Levanzo carried an eerie precision, forcing Alastor to stay on the defensive as the creature pushed him back step by step.
Rachel, frozen at the edge of the room, could barely follow the speed of their movements. Levanzo's attacks were wild yet calculated, his body constantly shifting to strike from unexpected angles. Alastor countered as best he could, his fists glowing with starfire as he deflected, parried, and retaliated, but Levanzo's strength was monstrous.
"You're slowing, Alastor!" Levanzo hissed, his claws slamming into Alastor's raised arm. The force drove him to one knee, the floor cracking beneath the impact. "Perhaps you aren't the unshakable warrior they claimed after all."
Alastor's jaw tightened as he pushed back, his muscles straining against the creature's overwhelming weight. With a grunt, he shoved Levanzo off and unleashed a blast of star energy from his palm. The explosion knocked the alien back, but instead of retreating, Levanzo twisted mid-air and retaliated with a tendril strike that lashed across Alastor's side.
The sharp tendril drew blood, and Alastor staggered slightly, clutching his ribs. Levanzo laughed, a grotesque sound that echoed through the room. "Oh, you can bleed! Good—let's see how much."
"Enough games," Alastor growled, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. He extended his hand, and the air itself seemed to shift. Tiny points of light began to gather around him, coalescing into a shimmering swirl of starlight.
Rachel gasped audibly as the sterile room filled with a celestial brilliance that defied the alien horror before them. But Levanzo was undeterred. With a feral roar, he lunged at Alastor, his claws aiming to pierce the man's chest.
Alastor sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the attack, and retaliated with a starburst blast. The energy collided with Levanzo's torso, sending him skidding back, but the alien rebounded instantly, his tendrils lashing out in a whirlwind of strikes. One slammed against Alastor's barrier, cracking it visibly, while another snaked around his leg, pulling him off balance.
Levanzo's grip tightened, and with a guttural growl, he swung Alastor into the nearest wall. The impact sent a resounding crack through the room, and Rachel flinched as debris rained down.
Despite the hit, Alastor managed to regain his footing. Blood trickled down his temple, but his eyes burned with determination. He raised his hand, the starlight around him intensifying, and unleashed a barrage of smaller star blasts. Each one struck with pinpoint accuracy, driving Levanzo back step by step.
Levanzo screeched, his form rippling under the onslaught, but his resilience was unnerving. Even as his body faltered, he lashed out again, his tendrils coiling together to form a jagged spear. With a roar, he hurled it toward Alastor.
The spear grazed Alastor's shoulder, tearing through his coat and drawing more blood. He winced but didn't falter, his glowing fist slamming into the ground to unleash another shockwave of energy that knocked Levanzo off his feet.
Rachel watched, her heart pounding. For the first time, she saw Alastor truly struggling. The creature was unlike anything he had faced before—its raw power and adaptability were almost overwhelming.
But Alastor was far from finished. As Levanzo charged again, Alastor met him head-on, his fist colliding with the alien's jagged maw. The impact was thunderous, but Levanzo twisted around the blow, his claws raking across Alastor's chest. Alastor gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain as he grabbed one of the tendrils and yanked the creature forward, driving his knee into its core.
Levanzo howled, his form convulsing, but he retaliated with a desperate swing of his claws, catching Alastor across the face. Blood spattered the ground, but Alastor barely flinched.
"You think you're the only one who's suffered?!" Alastor growled, his voice cold and cutting. "You're nothing but a shadow of what you could've been."
Levanzo hissed, his eyes burning with fury, but his movements were slowing. Alastor seized the opportunity, gathering the remaining starlight around him into a massive sphere above his head.
Levanzo's glowing eyes widened. "No—wait! We can talk—"
But Alastor had heard enough. With a single, decisive motion, he hurled the star down. It streaked through the air like a falling sun, engulfing Levanzo in its radiant explosion. The alien's scream was swallowed by the light as the room shook violently, the walls and ceiling groaning under the strain.
When the light finally faded, the sterile room was eerily silent. The floor was scorched where Levanzo had stood, cracks radiating outward like a spider's web. Alastor stood at the center, breathing heavily, his figure illuminated by the faint glow of the starlight that still clung to him. Blood and sweat coated him, but his gaze was unyielding.
Rachel stared at him, her mind racing. "Alastor…" she began, her voice trembling.
He turned to her, his expression softening as the glow around him began to fade. "It's over," he said quietly, though his tone carried the weight of everything that had just transpired.
Rachel took a hesitant step forward, her gaze flickering between him and the charred remains of the battlefield. "What… what was that? That power—where does it come from?"
Before he could answer, a faint sound broke the silence—a groan, low and guttural. Both of them turned toward the source. In the shadows of the ruined room, something stirred. Levanzo's broken form, still alive, began to shift once more, its glowing eyes filled not with fear, but with rage and insanity.
A piercing, unsettling laugh echoed around them.
"You think this will stop me?" Levanzo taunted, his voice flickering through different tonalities, as though it came from all directions. "You're blind to your own weakness. You always were."
Alastor's eyes narrowed. He was beginning to feel it now—the creeping edges of something long buried, something that gnawed at his mind. The name, Levanzo, carried weight he couldn't quite place.
"Who are you really?" Alastor demanded, his voice calm but laden with suspicion. "What do you want?"
Levanzo's form shifted again, and this time, it was not just a random transformation. It was deliberate. A hint of something darker, something personal. The creature's eyes locked onto Alastor's, and for a moment, the atmosphere seemed to freeze.
"You remember me now?" Levanzo's voice—Maltad's voice—was almost a whisper, but its impact hit like a physical blow.
Alastor staggered backward, a ripple of recognition washing over him like a flood of memories he had long suppressed. Maltad Auk'wi. The name struck him like lightning. It was a name he hadn't thought of in eons, a name tied to battles long forgotten.
"Maltad," Alastor muttered, his voice hoarse, disbelief rippling through him. "I—I thought you were gone. I didn't know you survived."
Maltad's form flickered, shifting from the monstrous alien back into something more recognizable—a vague, twisted reflection of the man Alastor once knew. His features were angular, sharp, with eyes that burned with a deep, ancient hatred.
"I should have died," Maltad hissed. "But you made sure that didn't happen, didn't you, Solvaris Tharion?"
At the mention of the name, Alastor stiffened. The sound of it struck a chord deep within him, resonating like the echo of a forgotten melody. His true name—one he had not heard spoken aloud for eons. For a moment, the air seemed to chill, and his stoic demeanor faltered.
Rachel's head turned sharply, her eyes wide with shock. Solvaris Tharion? The name sounded ancient, almost otherworldly, like something out of a storybook. She had only just found out that Alastor wasn't human, that he carried a weight of mystery, but hearing his name for the first time made him feel like a stranger standing in front of her.
"Solvaris..." Rachel murmured under her breath, her gaze flickering between Alastor and Maltad. "Is that... your name?"
Alastor's jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on Maltad. "You have no right to speak that name," he said, his voice low, carrying a dangerous edge.
Alastor's stomach churned, his mind reeling as fragmented images from the past—old, broken memories—flooded him. He remembered the war, the endless fighting, the destruction of entire civilizations, the cries of the innocent ringing in his ears. He remembered the faces of those he fought beside, and among them, Maltad. His closest ally, a warrior who had stood by his side through the darkness, through battles that tore worlds asunder.
In the midst of it all, the name Solvaris Tharion had once meant something—strength, leadership, unyielding power. It had been a name spoken in the shadows of war, a name that carried the weight of untold destruction, of a will that could not be broken. But now, it felt like a shadow of someone else, someone he no longer recognized.
But what he couldn't remember, what had become clouded and twisted, was what had come after.
Maltad's lips curled into a twisted smile. "You don't remember, do you? You never cared about the cost. You only cared about winning."
Alastor's pulse quickened, a knot of guilt and confusion tightening in his chest. "What are you talking about? We fought together! We—"
"We?" Maltad spat, his voice venomous. "You led the charge. You gave the order to destroy everything. And in that destruction, I lost everything." His eyes were wild with fury, the pain of loss still raw after all these years. "My family. My entire world was consumed in the fire that you created, Alastor. You killed them all."
Alastor staggered back, his breath shallow. The weight of Maltad's words pressed down on him, an unbearable burden. "No..." His voice cracked. "I—I didn't know. I didn't... I couldn't have known..."
Maltad's voice shook with rage. "You never cared, did you? You were so focused on the victory, on the power, on the endless conquest. You never stopped to think about the lives we were destroying, the worlds we were erasing. And when the dust settled, you left me broken. You left me with nothing." His expression twisted into something monstrous. "I should have died, Solvaris. It would have been better than this."
Rachel's breath caught as she pieced it together, the pieces of a history she'd never known. She had always seen Alastor as distant, a man who built walls around his past. She'd assumed it was just his nature, a result of his aloofness, but now, standing before Maltad, she realized just how deep the scars went. Alastor wasn't simply distant—he was haunted. And that haunting had a face, a name.
Alastor's silence hung heavy in the air, a suffocating weight. The guilt he carried was palpable, visible in the way his shoulders slumped, in the haunted look in his eyes. His past had come to claim him, and there was nothing he could do to escape it.
Maltad's voice trembled with a twisted satisfaction. "And now, I've returned to destroy everything you love. To ruin you."
Alastor shook his head, a tear slipping from his eye as the regret gnawed at him. "You can't—"
"I can," Maltad interrupted, his form shifting again, growing more monstrous, his body a grotesque reflection of the power he wielded. "And you know, I've been here for three years, Solvaris. Three years. It all started when I saw a man—Derek—your friend, Emily's closest ally. He was perfect. I took his life, his body, and I used it to infiltrate this planet."
The revelation hit Alastor like a punch to the gut, his knees buckling beneath him. Derek... the man who had been Emily's closest friend, her ally, her unwavering support. And now, Alastor understood the terrible truth. Derek had died, and his body had been stolen, used as a pawn in Maltad's game. Alastor's heart sank, guilt rising in his chest like a tidal wave.
"You... took Derek's life?" Alastor whispered, his voice shaking. "You—"
"I watched you," Maltad continued, his voice cold and calculating, his eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. "I watched as you walked past that café, so naive, so unaware. And I took my chance. I knew I could get close to you again. The Starbreaker—it was just a tool. It was never about the weapon. It was about you, Alastor. About destroying you. And you are going to watch everything you love burn, just as I watched my world burn."
Alastor's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening as the weight of Maltad's words settled over him like a suffocating fog. The bitterness in Maltad's voice, the cruelty, the destruction—it all cut through Alastor like a knife, but amidst the anger, there was something else. Something quieter. A flicker of understanding, perhaps even empathy.
"I see... I understand now..." Alastor spoke slowly, his voice thick with emotion. "My world was burned a long time ago, too."
Rachel froze, her thoughts swirling with confusion and unease. His world? she thought. What does he mean by that?
Alastor looked down, the weight of his memories crushing him, and for a moment, he seemed distant, as though lost in the remnants of his past. The guilt and regret that had always lingered inside him now surged forward, unbidden.
"I never meant for any of this to happen, Maltad. I never meant for you to suffer, for you to be consumed by this pain... I never wanted you to become this." His words were soft, almost painful, as if speaking them aloud was an effort he could barely endure. "I understand the kind of pain you're in. I've lived with it, day in and day out... the constant reminder of everything I've lost. The world, the people, the choices that can never be undone."
Maltad froze for a moment, his monstrous form shifting slightly, as if caught off guard by the unexpected vulnerability in Alastor's voice. For the briefest of moments, there was a flicker of something—recognition, maybe—before his rage took hold once more.
Alastor's voice grew stronger, but there was no anger behind it, only the quiet sorrow of someone who knew all too well what it felt like to be consumed by loss. "I never wanted you to become the thing that destroyed everything. I didn't realize the destruction I caused, the pain you were carrying, or how much I had failed you... but I do now."
Maltad sneered, his voice dripping with bitterness. "You failed me, and you failed everyone. Now I will return the favor."
Rachel's thoughts raced. Derek. She hadn't known the full story before. She hadn't understood how deep the betrayal went. The connection between Alastor and Maltad went beyond a rivalry—it was a shattering fracture, one that had lasted eons, built on loss and vengeance. And now, as Alastor stood in the midst of it, she realized just how far the echoes of that past reached.
The battlefield was still, the dust settling around Alastor as he struggled to steady himself. His breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, his body screaming in protest with every move. He'd pushed himself far beyond his limits, far beyond what his aging frame could endure.
He planted his feet firmly, his boots grinding against the fractured earth. Every muscle in his body ached, his limbs trembling from the relentless strain.
Alastor wiped at his brow with the back of his hand, smearing dirt and sweat across his face. His shoulders heaved as he forced himself to stay upright, even though his legs felt like they could give out at any moment. The battle had dragged on too long, and every blow he'd landed, every maneuver he'd executed had chipped away at his endurance.
"Is that all you've got, old man?" Levanzo sneered from across the battlefield, his twisted form writhing as he prepared for another attack.
Alastor didn't answer. Words would only waste what little energy he had left. Instead, he focused on steadying his breathing, his hands curling into tight fists despite the pain. He wasn't done yet. He couldn't be.
"Alastor!"
Rachel's voice broke through the haze, sharp and panicked.
Her cry struck him like a bolt of clarity. He turned his head slightly, catching sight of her in the distance. The fear in her eyes sent a jolt through him, giving him just enough strength to fight back against the crushing weight of exhaustion.
She stood at the edge of the chaos, her eyes wide with fear. She could see the devastation unfolding before her—Alastor, pushed to his limit, facing the unimaginable. The weight of the world seemed to press down on her. She wanted to help, but how?
Her eyes darted to the floor, spotting a shard of the machine lying near her feet. It pulsed faintly, remnants of energy still coursing through it. Without hesitation, Rachel dashed forward, grabbing the shard. Its surface was hot to the touch, and a faint hum resonated through her fingertips.
She didn't have time to think. Rachel turned to Maltad, her expression set with fierce determination. Her arm pulled back, ready to hurl the shard at him with all her strength.
But before she could release it, a hand shot out of the shadows and gripped her wrist tightly, halting her movement.
"Tommy?" Rachel's voice was barely a whisper, in disbelief.
He stopped a few feet away from her, tilting his head mockingly. "Did you really think I'd just walk away after our last little chat and not show up for this?"
Rachel tried to push herself up, her arms shaking under her weight.
Alastor's head lifted weakly, his glowing eyes narrowing. "Who the hell is this?"
Tommy shot him a cold glance. "Me? I'm the one finishing what Maltad started."
Without warning, he stepped toward Rachel and delivered a brutal kick to her ribs. The force of the blow sent her sprawling, gasping for air as pain racked her body.
"Stop!" Alastor roared, his voice echoing like thunder. Cosmic energy surged around him in a violent explosion, ripping through the warehouse.
The shockwave sent Maltad's unconscious body crashing against the far wall. Tommy staggered but recovered quickly, only to find himself face-to-face with an enraged Alastor.
In a blur of motion, Alastor slammed Tommy into the crumbling wall, his glowing hands pinning him by the throat. "You don't touch her!"
Tommy, unfazed by the threat, grinned through the pressure. "Why so protective? She didn't tell you who I am, did she?"
Alastor's grip tightened. "I don't care who you are."
Tommy's grin widened, his voice dripping with malice. "I'm her brother."
The revelation hit Alastor like a physical blow. He froze, his glowing eyes flickering. "Her brother? But she said you were dead."
Tommy leaned closer, his voice a venomous whisper. "That's what I wanted her to think. I've been with Maltad all along, helping him build his empire. And now…" He reached into his jacket and pulled out the bloodstained Starbreaker dagger. "Now, I'll finish this."
Before Alastor could react, Tommy drove the dagger deep into his side. The cosmic warrior gasped, his body convulsing as the weapon sapped his energy. He collapsed to his knees, the glow around him fading to almost nothing.
"Alastor!" Rachel's scream cut through the air, her voice raw with desperation. She clawed her way toward him, ignoring the pain wracking her body.
Tommy stepped back, watching Alastor writhe with a cruel satisfaction. Behind him, Maltad stirred, his laughter low and mocking as he pulled himself upright.
"You've done well, Tommy," Maltad said, his voice rasping but triumphant. "We've won."
Tommy glanced at him and smirked. "It's over."
Alastor's labored breaths turned into a quiet chuckle, then a full-throated laugh. His voice, though weakened, carried an eerie confidence.
"No," he said, lifting his head to meet Maltad's gaze. "It's over for you."
From his pocket, Alastor pulled out a small, radiant crystal. Maltad's eyes widened in recognition, his smug grin fading into panic.
"No!" Maltad shouted, but it was too late.
Alastor hurled the crystal forward, and it exploded into a glowing circle of light. The edges of the circle crackled with intense energy as it expanded, rushing toward Maltad.
"Solvaris, don't!" Maltad's scream was cut short as the circle enveloped him. His lower legs were sliced cleanly by the edges, his upper body sucked into the glowing void. His screams echoed briefly before the circle collapsed in on itself, shrinking back into the crystal, which fell to the floor with a soft clink.
The warehouse fell silent. Maltad was gone, and only his severed legs remained as a grisly testament to his fate.
Tommy stared at the scene, his confidence replaced by shock. "You…what did you do?"
Alastor, still clutching his side, forced himself to his feet. "I sent him somewhere he can't hurt anyone ever again."
Tommy's expression twisted with rage, but before he could act, the distant wail of sirens pierced the air. Flashlights flickered through the warehouse windows as police vehicles skidded to a halt outside.
"You called the cops?" Tommy's voice was a venomous hiss.
Alastor, barely standing, smirked despite the pain. "Your little cult's about to be dismantled."
Tommy cursed under his breath. With no way to fight his way out without risking capture, he made a split-second decision. He dashed toward a narrow service door at the far end of the warehouse, the only exit that could offer him a quick escape.
As he reached the door, his gaze flicked toward Rachel, still lying on the floor, her face pale but filled with an emotion he couldn't quite read. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Tommy hesitated. But then, the reality of the situation hit him—there was no time. His escape was the only way to survive.
With a final, unreadable look, he turned and slipped through the service door, disappearing into the night.
"Dammit…" Alastor muttered, leaning heavily against a nearby crate as Rachel collapsed beside him.
"Rachel…" His voice softened with concern as he caught her, gently pulling her into his arms.
She opened her eyes, weak and tear-streaked, and whispered, "You… you saved me."
Alastor's hand brushed over her bloodied hair, his pain forgotten for the moment. "Of course."
Their gazes locked, and in that fragile moment, nothing else seemed to matter. Slowly, they leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss—a silent promise of safety amid the chaos.
The sound of police officers storming into the warehouse pulled them back to reality, but they stayed there, holding on to each other, unwilling to let go.