The stairwell ascended high into the building, leading Philos to believe that the stairs he took were the ones that lead to the top of the massive structure that was the Emerald Gate. He had climbed hurriedly for some time, the light at the top seemingly growing closer and closer at an increasingly sluggish pace—too sluggish for his taste.
Dalt, he thought, gripping his chest. I'm coming, kid!
As he got higher and higher, bounding up the steps as quickly as he could, he could feel his ire—this familiar ire— run like searing pain through the blood in his veins.
In his mind's eye, he could see the flames rising.
I failed once...
The sweat upon his arms began to dry; it was as if he could feel the flames he felt in his family's house that day.
I failed five years ago...
Red blurred his vision; all he could hear were the screams of his mother, the tears that gurgled in her throat.
But not this time...
The stairs quickly passed under Philos' feet; he could feel the pricks along his skin; he could see the needles the Angels stabbed him with.
Never again!
He could hear the laugh of a particular Angel—that manic cackle. Philos felt his blood begin to boil. He gritted his teeth.
I'll burn this whole world to ash...
Then he could see clearly. As he reached to top, he heard Dalt's screams.
...before I let anyone hurt my friends!
Philos came to the top of the steps and out into the night air. The light breeze was a bit harsher on the top of the Emerald Gate. Above, the stars shown vividly, their lights pronounced and defined against the blackness of the sky.
Philos stopped and looked forward. In front of him, Dalt stood beside a tall man with long black hair and a soldier's uniform, a chain around the boy's neck.
"Philos!" Dalt exclaimed as he rushed forward. Suddenly the man jolted the chain, slinging Dalt onto his back.
"Dalt!" Philos exclaimed, his fists clenching tighter.
"So you actually did come for the boy," the man said, turning around. "I was beginning to believe that little Dalt here was completely worthless."
"Worthless, huh?" Philos smiled as he approached the fallen child. "Mobsters like you make me sick. Those who would orphan a helpless boy for the sake of their own pride..."
Dalt watched Philos as he knelt. Darkness cast over his face, concealing his eyes.
"Don't worry, Dalt. Everything will be okay." Philos turned to the man. "I'm guessing you're Wolfe, then?"
"That's Captain to you!" The man drew his saber and rushed forward.
Philos' body twitched as the captain's sword came down upon his shoulder.
"Philos!" Dalt exclaimed.
Wolfe laughed as he stood over the young man's body. Dalt could see the line of red seeping through Philos' clothes.
"Now!" Wolfe said, pointing his blade at Dalt. "You die next!"
Fox slowly came to, his vision still blurry and his head filled with a piercing headache.
"Don't even think about getting up," Alphonso said.
Fox turned his head to see the young man sitting beside him.
"You bastard!" Fox groaned. "You might have beaten me! You might have beaten Hyena and Hound, too! But no one can beat Captain Wolfe."
"Ha!" Alphonso exclaimed. "Let me tell you something. I'm strong, and you were strong. But Philos is gonna fight yer boss, and, well, I've fought Philos fifty times in my life and"—Alphonso smiled—"I've never beaten him once!"
The Starbreather sat high above the town of Hazelnut, his sanguine eyes peering at the commotion below.
Oooo... his eyes widened as he saw Uri, his wound healed as if miraculously.
The Starbreather's eyes wandered to the top of the Emerald Gate.
"You aren't dead, are you?" he said into the air as he watched Philos lay limp upon the tiles. No...you're too strong for that.
He smiled, his sharp, jagged teeth white and shining like the sun.
No...I know what you are...I wonder, do you know...?
He clapped his hands together, the galaxies along his mercurial violet form colliding into bright bursts.
Do you know, Philos, that you will set this world ablaze...
...starting...
He smiled wide and darkly, pointing his finger at the battle below.
...Right now!
"Philos!" Dalt screamed.
"It's over now!" Wolfe exclaimed as he raised his saber high in the air. "Now die!"
Dalt closed his eyes as the blade came downward. Time seemed to slow as the boy's life flashed before him. He thought of his father, his mother, Kerri, Judine...
Why...? His mind was on fire. Why wasn't I strong enough...?
Then, nothing. There was no pain. Nothing.
"What the!?" Dalt heard Wolfe cry out.
The boy opened his eyes. "You?!" Dalt gasped. He couldn't believe it.
Philos stood between them, the captain's saber lodged deep in his forearm.
"But!" Wolfe raved. "I killed you?!"
"C'mon!" Philos laughed as he grabbed Wolfe's saber and ripped it from his forearm. "You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?!"
"But you..." Dalt began.
Wolfe gasped. "How did you—"
Philos held up his arm. A slow stream of smoke began to steam from his body as the wounds on his arm and shoulder began to close and heal.
"But—" Wolfe never finished his sentence.
Suddenly, Philos sprang forward, his hand wrapping around the captain's throat.
"Like I said!" Philos began as he lifted the captain off of his feet. "I can't stand..." With one great motion, the Starborn brought the man's throat down like a great hammer, slamming him into the ground. There was a sickening crunch as the tile underneath began to crack underneath Wolfe's head. "Scum like you!"
Left, right, left, right! Philos' fists began to pound upon the captain's face, his flesh becoming blue and seeping blood onto Philos' knuckles.
Eventually, Philos stopped. Dalt looked at his protector in awe and horror; he could see the blood on his savior's shirt and arm beginning to dry.
The two stood for a moment, looking at one another. Dalt turned his eyes to the horizon. Beyond, the sun was rising.
There was silence.
"Philos..." Dalt finally said, a croak in his voice.
Philos stood over Wolfe's dead body, saying nothing. The young boy looked at Philos' face. For a moment, all he could see was rage.
"I couldn't stop them," Dalt continued. "It was all my fault, and in the end I was too weak to do anything about it!"
The wind howled; the sky began to lighten as the golden sun peeked over the skyline.
"You," Philos finally said, his voice calm and soft, "you slept under the shadow of this gate every night—you lived with this guilt, yet you still lived. You still chose to face the day, despite the horrible things that happened. Dalt, that is true strength."
Dalt wiped his eyes. He looked at his friend.
"Hey, kid," Philos said with a smile. "Don't ever lose that courage you have, okay?"
Suddenly, Dalt felt it. It was like a thousand needles in his heart, an overwhelming wave of pain and grief.
"I'm not," he yelled as he began to weep, "I'm not a kid!"
Philos smiled, then began to laugh.
"That's right," he said. "You're a brave young man."
In the distance, the sun rose over Hazelnut Village. The night was over.