Brighter Than Light

Bathed in the timid light of the moon, a boy dressed entirely in black stood silently. His hands clasped before him seemed to offer an apology—or perhaps wish peace to the soul of the corpse before him. He didn't like killing. He never did. But sometimes, it was necessary.Amid the crumbling ruins of the once-grand Silver Empire, his lone silhouette wandered, outlined by the cold stone and the moon's pale glow. The boy, of average height, bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. His messy, dark hair fell over his forehead and nape but couldn't conceal his haunting eyes—one purple like twilight, the other black as night. They were eyes that had seen too much horror."Give me a moment," he murmured, his voice echoing through the vast marble halls. The words spread out, reaching the endless stairways spiraling around the colossal architecture."Yeah, yeah. I get it! We need to hurry and find this so-called key. But this place is enormous... Every step on these stairs is half my height," he grumbled, more to himself than anything else.His complaint was abruptly cut off by a distant sound—a metallic echo slicing through the silence like a blade. He froze. He wasn't alone.Suddenly, the suffocating silence was torn apart by an infernal noise: the march of hooves mingled with grotesque caws. Narrowing his eyes, he listened carefully."Spawn of the Pit," he muttered disdainfully. "I figured we wouldn't be the only ones here. But to think even these creatures felt the key's power..."His train of thought was abruptly derailed. A lightning bolt, swift and fierce, exploded near his feet. Marble fragments scattered into the air."A mage!" he exclaimed, retreating with a mix of irritation and alertness. "And one that knows lightning magic. Looks like I hit the jackpot..."The perverse sound of a thousand crackling sparks filled the hall, each one seeming to seek its next victim. Acting purely on instinct, he let himself fall backward, narrowly evading the lethal discharge. His rapid breathing echoed in his ears, mingling with the sound of residual energy dancing in the air.Then, a deep, smug male voice cut through the chaos."Deimos... the infamous Deimos is here to save the day."Deimos narrowed his eyes, hiding in the shadows as the voice echoed through the hall. "Didn't know I was so famous," he replied, with a hint of sarcasm.The mage, impatient, concentrated his energy. A violent blast struck the pillars supporting the floor where Deimos stood. With a thunderous crash, two levels of the colossal structure collapsed. The impact crushed dozens of the Pit's spawn, while the survivors instinctively fled. They knew this was now the battlefield of even more terrifying monsters.Deimos emerged from the rubble, gravely injured. Blood trickled from multiple wounds, staining his already black attire with crimson. He faced the mage, who wore a twisted smile—until his face froze in horror.A dark, viscous substance began mingling with the boy's blood."What... what is that in your blood?!" the mage asked, his voice trembling with shock and disgust. Deimos lifted his gaze, an exhausted and sardonic smile crossing his lips."My blood? It's as pure and immaculate as my soul... and yours, of course."With a slow gesture, he drew a cross-shaped, broken sword from his belt. "Legendary sacred sword, smite my enemy!" he shouted, with irony. The mage hesitated for a moment before realizing the mockery."A cliché like a sacred sword is real?" Deimos laughed, amused by his adversary's growing anger. Furious, the mage launched chaotic, reckless attacks, losing control.As Deimos's blood dripped from his fingers, the dark substance began enveloping the cross. An ethereal blade of onyx formed—darker than a moonless night yet shimmering with an illusory glow oscillating between pale blue and deep purple.The impact of the sword against the mage's attacks sent sparks flying through the air. Each swing of the blade tore through the electric waves as though they were mere shadows. Perplexed, the mage conjured a stone wall in a desperate attempt to stop his opponent.Deimos sliced his left palm, letting the blood flow onto the ground. The viscous substance spread, transforming the floor into platforms that propelled him upward, surpassing the barrier. At the top, Deimos's figure—one of his eyes emitting a sinister purple glow—resembled that of a predator. It struck fear into his enemy's eyes."Zephyr," said the mage in a grave tone.Deimos remained silent."My name," the man continued, "is Zephyr. I thought you deserved to know the name of the man who will end you.""So be it," Deimos replied, leaping again and spilling more of his blood around.Zephyr gathered his strength, materializing a brilliant metallic sphere, concentrating a lethal energy discharge to finish the boy. Before he could act, iron-and-blood spikes sprouted around Deimos, encircling him.But the mage stumbled, falling to his knees."I thought you knew what you were doing," Deimos said, landing beside him. "You know, because of the lightning and all. But it seems every Ether user forgets that nothing comes without a price.""I envy you... really, I do. Your powers come from reason, from enlightenment, and blah, blah, blah. You can create incredible phenomena and things out of nothing. But my power? It only corrupts. It comes from emotion.""I wish I didn't have to do this, but you're after the key, and you're far too dangerous to leave alive," Deimos said, a somber expression crossing his face as he plunged the ethereal sword into the man's chest.Bathed in the timid light of the moon, Deimos, dressed entirely in black, stood silently. His hands clasped before him seemed to offer an apology—or perhaps wish peace to the soul of the corpse before him. He didn't like killing. He never did. But sometimes, it was necessary. Still, the guilt lingered, a weight that never faded. In the end, all that remained was silence—and he accepted it.