A wave of Grinders surged forward, snarling and shrieking. The ground trembled under their charge. Nomads scrambled to hold the line—rifles raised, blades drawn, prayers whispered.
But they were exhausted. Bleeding. Outnumbered.
Korven looked across the battlefield, at the dying, the screaming, the already-dead.
His gaze met Agito's. Shifted to Veyrath. He nodded once, firmly. No words.
Agito nodded back.
Time to act.
Korven spun, lance in one hand, fire in his lungs.
"Nomads!" he roared.
Dozens of bloodied faces turned to him—wide-eyed, broken, but still breathing.
He raised his weapon high, his tone cutting through the screams.
"They want our land. Our families. Our fucking bones."
The air trembled with each word.
"But they will take nothing!"
He pointed his lance toward the charging Grinders.
"We are not the forgotten!"
"We are the fire that survived the storm!"
"Stand with me—or die on your knees!"
The Nomads roared back.
Blades lifted. Guns cocked.
And for a moment—a single moment—they believed.
Korven planted the butt of his lance into the ground. Took a long, heavy breath. And spoke the word only the strongest dared to summon.
"Noroi."
The curse rippled through the earth. The sand around him rose in spirals. Nomads turned to look—and saw more than a warrior; they saw a pillar. Their last defense.
Korven's gaze flared with ancient weight as he whispered the name of his power:
"Kanmuri no Omomi."[1]
The world trembled.
CLANG!
Chains burst from the ground, wrapping around his limbs, torso, and neck, rattling with dark power.
Glowing sigils burned across his chest. The very air around him thickened. A shimmering dome of translucent chains erupted outward, enveloping the Nomads closest to him in a protective barrier. Every strike meant for them was now drawn inexorably to him, guided by the cursed chains—a shield born from sacrifice and responsibility.
The first blow struck the barrier—he barely felt it.
The second—Korven staggered slightly, chains rattling, sinking deeper into his skin.
The third—a crimson trickle escaped his lips, staining the sand.
The chains tightened further. Each attack he absorbed added unbearable weight, digging into his flesh like living punishment. It wasn't merely pain. It was gravity. Pressure. A burden only the willing could bear.
And he bore it willingly.
A Grinder leapt, aiming past him at the defenseless. The chains shimmered, redirecting the beast straight toward Korven. Without hesitation, he shattered it with a brutal swing. Another struck at an ally—the chains twisted its path mid-air, pulling its claws toward him instead. He didn't even flinch as its talons raked his arm.
A wounded Nomad—the chains yanked the creature harshly toward Korven, embedding its claws into his gut. With cold, brutal precision, Korven grabbed the beast by the skull and crushed it barehanded.
More came.
Chains tightened, dragging him down like judgment.
Still, he stood. Still, he protected.
Veyrath watched with a twisted smile.
"How much longer can you hold, King of the Nomads?"
Korven spat crimson into the dirt.
"Long enough to bury you."
But he was fading.
Every breath hurt. Every heartbeat was a war.
Chains tightened around him, burning fiercely with the weight of every wound, every sacrifice, every scream he had taken upon himself. His muscles strained, veins bulging under his skin. He lifted his lance with both hands, gathering every shred of cursed power, channeling it through his battered body.
His voice shattered the sky:
"Kusari Kudaki no Yari!"[2]
Korven drove his lance into the earth, and the accumulated burden detonated with savage force. Chains exploded outward, slicing through Grinders, shattering their bodies and scattering them in all directions. The ground ruptured, sand turned instantly to ash, and a devastating shockwave split the battlefield in half.
Roars. Shrieks. Debris—
Silence.
Korven stood, gasping, drenched in blood, chains disintegrating around him into smoldering ash. For one endless moment, he remained standing—an exhausted sentinel amidst ruin and victory.
Then his knees buckled. He collapsed onto the sand, wheezing, bleeding—broken, but undefeated.
And suddenly—
Engines.
The rumble of treads grinding the earth.
A scout screamed—
"EXILIUM!!!"
RUMBLE!
Two massive crawlers tore onto the battlefield, clouds of sand erupting beneath their treads. From their bellies spilled forth an army ready for war.
Humans. Mutants. Vel'Alsari. Tinkari. Dozens of fighters, all armed, all ready. They surged into the fray with a war cry that made the Grinders pause.
From the lead crawler, the hatch hit the ground with a thunderous clang.
Cain stepped out first.
Covered in blood. Silent. Controlled.
His eyes swept across the chaos—to the dying, to Korven, to the monsters.
Behind him, Cyrene emerged, followed by the rest of Exilium.
The Grinders howled.
They charged.
Cain cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders. Fingers twitched.
"Chishio no Yaiba!"[3]
Jagged bone blades erupted from his cursed arms, glowing red and fierce.
He moved.
First swing—cleaved a beast clean in half.
Second—buried his claw into another's skull.
Third—tore a throat wide open with one brutal wrench.
Cain didn't fight.
He butchered.
Claws raked across his side. He didn't flinch.
One step forward—ripped off a limb.
Another—shattered a spine.
Blood was everywhere.
But Cain was a storm. A relentless, unstoppable fucking tide.
He was no longer a soldier.
He was vengeance incarnate.
"Rest, Korven," he growled. "We've got this."
At that moment—
Light.
Her implants flared, circuits glowing crimson. The air thickened around her as pressure spiked. Her fists clenched, veins bulging with energy.
"Zōkyō Kikō!"[4]
A wave of power rippled outward. Her muscles surged, metal glistening beneath her skin. The first Grinder lunged—
Mistake.
Cyrene met it mid-air with a punch that didn't knock it back. It detonated—bone, blood, pieces, gone. Another beast lunged; she caught it, crushing its ribs with a twist.
"Hasai no Hōkō!"[5]
She roared. A shockwave exploded from her body, throwing monsters backward like leaves in a hurricane. The battlefield cracked. Sand lifted like a wall. Grinders shrieked—those still able to run tried. Too late.
Cyrene didn't fight.
She annihilated.
And Veyrath?
He saw it all. And panicked. This wasn't the slaughter he planned. This was war. And he was losing.
He turned.
Started to run.
[1] Crown of Burden
[2] Chainbreaker Lance
[3] Blades of the Blood Tide
[4] Enhanced Structure Mode
[5] Roar of the Crushing Force