Nova's existence had become a tormenting loop of death and rebirth. Each time, flames consumed him, only for the agony to end with his awakening back on the battlefield. The cries of soldiers, the clashing of steel, and the suffocating stench of blood haunted him endlessly. He wasn't just fighting to escape; he was fighting for the unbreakable bond he shared with his brother, Haizen. Yet every attempt to break free was met with failure, as if the cycle was meticulously designed to ensnare him.
But in one of these cursed loops, something shifted. A revelation pierced the haze of his wearied mind. The figure clad in glowing armor, the one who commanded the battlefield with black flames, was Lord Argent—a name whispered in the annals of Emperor Vixor's history. Nova had studied him in the dusty pages of history books, where Argent was described as a brilliant general whose deeper motives remained a mystery.
The battlefield, Nova realized, wasn't real. It was a crafted illusion, a cruel theater designed to test and torment him. This knowledge didn't lessen the pain of his countless deaths, but it fueled his resolve. He decided to confront Lord Argent before the shadowy creature that orchestrated his demise could reset the cycle once more.
As the all-too-familiar scene unfolded, Nova pressed through the ranks of soldiers. Their voices echoed like a dirge.
"He is back! The lord is back! This is our victory!" they chanted, their faces a mix of devotion and dread.
Nova ignored them. The weight of his armor dragged with each step, a reminder of how many times it had been his tomb. He reached the front lines, where Lord Argent stood, black flames licking the edges of his radiant armor. The general's presence commanded fear, but Nova wasn't afraid. Not this time.
"This is a trap!" Nova shouted, his voice raw with desperation. "We're all going to die!"
His warning fell on deaf ears. Soldiers pushed forward, eager for the false victory promised by their invincible leader. Nova broke through the line, his gaze locked on Argent. The general turned slowly, his expression hidden beneath the flickering shadows of his flames. Yet his smile, cold and sinister, was unmistakable.
Without a word, Lord Argent raised his hand. A torrent of black fire erupted, hurtling toward Nova with deadly precision. The flames consumed him, their searing heat far more intense than anything he'd endured before. Nova screamed, his voice swallowed by the inferno, as his body was reduced to ashes.
But this time, Nova did not awaken on the battlefield.
He opened his eyes to a dimly lit chamber, the air thick and suffocating. The walls were etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly, casting eerie shadows. At the center of the room sat a figure cloaked in darkness, its golden eyes cutting through the gloom like twin suns. The air vibrated with its presence, a palpable weight pressing down on Nova.
The figure's voice was smooth and cruel, carrying an unsettling amusement. "Oh, my. Such good manners, kneeling already. What a polite child."
Nova's knees buckled beneath him, not out of respect but from the sheer force of the fear that gripped him. He struggled to speak, his voice weak. "What... what is this place? Why me? What do you want?"
The shadowy figure chuckled, the sound resonating like a twisted melody. "Why you?" it echoed. "Such a simple question for such a complicated answer." It leaned forward, its golden eyes narrowing. "But first, a little choice. Your arm… or your brother's life?"
The question, cruel and bizarre, left Nova reeling. Yet his answer came without hesitation. "I value my brother more than my life," he said, his voice trembling but firm.
The figure tilted its head, as if intrigued. "Hmm. Loyalty. How quaint. I normally don't do favors, but for you, I'll make an exception." Its tone shifted, growing darker. "Remember this, child: the time of humans is coming to an end. Be prepared for what's coming."
Nova's heart pounded as the words sank in. The figure continued, its voice heavy with a cryptic weight. "Now you owe me."
"Owe you? For what?" Nova asked, his fear now laced with confusion.
The figure's laughter filled the chamber, an echoing sound that seemed to seep into the very walls. "You will know," it said simply.
Before Nova could demand answers, the chamber dissolved into a swirling mist. Shadows and light intertwined, pulling him away from the oppressive presence. He braced himself for the familiar battlefield, but when the haze cleared, he found himself standing amidst ruins.
The ground was littered with broken weapons and shattered armor, remnants of battles long past. The air was eerily still, free from the usual din of war. Above him, the sky was clearer than he had ever seen it in the cursed loop. For the first time, it seemed as though the cycle had been broken—or at least altered.
Nova stood alone, the shadow figure's ominous words ringing in his ears. His brother's life, the mysterious favor he now owed, and the cryptic prophecy of humanity's end weighed heavily on him. The battlefield had always been about survival, but now it was more. It was about uncovering the truth and preparing for the storm that lay ahead.
With a deep breath, Nova set off across the desolate landscape. His path was uncertain, but his resolve was unshakable. This was no longer just a fight to escape. It was a quest for answers—a journey to unravel the forces that controlled his fate and to protect the brother he had sworn never to abandon.
As he walked, the landscape shifted again, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in his ordeal.