The inhabitants of Exoduus were in a state of utter panic. And for good reason: not only were alarms blaring nonstop—warning every Celestial and other sentient creature that an enemy stood at the gates of their world—but they had also witnessed one of their main defenses, the Fjore law-enforcement headquarters, vanish right before their eyes.

And as if that weren’t enough, the ground suddenly began to quake violently as colossal fissures split open across the city. Those without wings like the Celestials, or without flying vehicles, were swallowed by what seemed to be bottomless pits forming beneath their feet. The luckier ones—if one could even call it luck—clung desperately to the edges of the ravines, praying for miraculous help.

“Help! Please, someone!” screamed a man who was moments away from falling into the void.

Just as his strength was about to give out, his cries were heard by a Celestial trying to reach a safe place.

“I’m coming! Hold on!”

But just as hope flickered to life—just as the man was about to grasp the saving hand extended toward him—the Celestial was suddenly struck by lightning.

“Nooooo!”

His horrified scream echoed as he watched, powerless, his only hope plummet head-first into the endless chasm. Moments later, his own strength failed him. He, too, slipped and fell into the dark depths of Exoduus, the last thing he saw being the once-beautiful sky of his world turning storm-dark.

*

As if the constant alarms, the quakes, and the random openings of fissures weren’t enough, Exoduus’s majestic sky abruptly shifted, now filled with massive storm clouds whose lightning struck buildings and people—both on the ground and in the air—with brutal force, and seemingly at random. It was as if a natural catastrophe were tearing their world apart.

And to make matters worse, right after that sudden atmospheric shift, powerful shockwaves followed by surges of raw energy rippled across the entire planet. Flying became incredibly dangerous—whether for Celestials or anyone using an aircraft. Either the lightning incinerated them, or they were suddenly reduced to ash by a wave of blood-red energy.

At the source of these cataclysmic phenomena were two beings—two Scythians—Harvester and Pyromaethé, locked in battle, utterly indifferent to whatever was caught in their wake.

Gadriel, like most of Exoduus’s inhabitants, watched in terror as his world—his home—was being consumed by chaos.

“Wh… why? Why are you destroying everything?!” he cried, falling to his knees.

No answer came. Harvester and Jessabiel were far too distant to hear him. And even if they had been standing right in front of him, would they have answered? Those women… those two women were far too focused on tearing each other apart to notice anyone around them.

As if to punctuate that thought, another wave of blood-red energy burst across the sky of Exoduus, burning everything in its path and raising the planet’s temperature even further.

Gadriel’s breathing grew more and more difficult. Each inhale felt like his lungs were burning from the inside. He wasn’t alone—everyone left standing seemed to be suffering the same way. Was this the end of his world? Jessabiel and that woman… Jessabiel and Harvester—were they the cause of Exoduus’s destruction? The destruction of his home?

As another building collapsed in the distance, a voice suddenly screamed behind him:

“You filthy miiiiicrobe!!!”

Gadriel turned and saw an elderly Celestial—one of his neighbors. The man could barely stand, likely due to the aftermath of the battle between Jessabiel and Harvester.

“All of this… all of this is your fault! All because you refuse to die, you filthy microbe!”

Despite his state of distress, Gadriel was lucid enough to understand that the Celestial before him wasn’t his neighbor anymore—but Reigns, who had taken possession of the man’s body. Gadriel didn’t know how, but this was unmistakably Jessabiel’s brother—the only person on all Exoduus who called him “microbe.”

“It’s not—”

“Shut up! Shut… shut your filthy mouth! Everything—”

Like Gadriel, Reigns was struggling to breathe.

“Everything is your fault…!”

“It’s not—”

“SHUT UP!!! Shut your disgusting mouth!!! If only… if only you’d never existed! If only—”

Suddenly, Reigns lunged at Gadriel. And although he had lost the body he had previously used against Harvester, he now possessed that of a Celestial—old, yes, but still a Celestial. In a fraction of a second, he closed the distance between them.

However, because he had only just taken control of this new body, Reigns still had trouble mastering it. He put too much force into his leap and ended up slamming his fist into Gadriel’s torso—before the boy could even react.

Gadriel was violently thrown backward and crashed onto the ground. Pain exploded through his body, and breathing became even harder.

Despite the agony and the burning in his lungs, he knew he needed to get up and escape if he wanted to live. Reigns was not here to torture him like last time in the white room. No—this time, he wanted him dead. Gadriel had to flee… but he first had to stand. Unfortunately, the pain was overwhelming. Every movement felt like torture.

Reigns, disoriented from the failed attack, had intended to grab the boy’s throat, not strike his torso. Still, he couldn’t hide his satisfaction at the sight before him. The “microbe” was immobilized, completely at his mercy.

Reigns stepped closer, eyes wild and full of murderous intent. Standing over Gadriel, he raised his foot and brought it crashing down on the boy’s leg.

“Aaaahhhhh!” Gadriel screamed as a sickening crack echoed through the air.

His leg was fractured—agony radiated through every fiber of his body. But for the son of Arya, this was only the beginning. Reigns wasn’t stopping at one leg. No—he wanted the “microbe” to suffer for everything he believed Gadriel had caused.

He stomped on the second leg.

“Aaaahhhhh!”

“Don’t think I’m done with you, microbe. This is only the beginning. You’re going to pay for everything you did to us.”

Jessabiel’s brother then moved on to Gadriel’s remaining limbs, breaking them one by one before grabbing the boy by the throat and lifting him with one hand.

Gadriel was in terrible shape—arms and legs shattered, Reigns’s grip tightening around his neck, leaving him unable to defend himself. Memories from the previous days flashed through his mind—especially the image of his mother lying lifeless in their kitchen. As those horrific images flooded his thoughts, a voice suddenly echoed within him:

“They are responsible for her death. They toyed with you and tore away what you cherished most. Don’t let them get away with it! Don’t you want revenge?!! Let the anger take over—destroy them allllllll!!!”

At that moment, as a surge of hatred rose within him, Gadriel’s eyes began to shift in color, flickering between their natural blue and a black-orange hue.

“You… you will…”

Something tried to emerge from within him—something that immediately made Reigns react. Sensing the danger, he didn’t hesitate. He smashed Gadriel’s ribcage with a single punch, snuffing out any hope of vengeance by cutting off the boy’s ability to breathe.

Gadriel was dangerous—at least, that’s what Reigns told himself. He had to be eliminated once and for all. But just as he prepared to crush the boy’s face, his arm was suddenly sliced into several pieces.

He didn’t even have time to process what had happened—or to scream—before his other arm, the one holding Gadriel aloft, was also shredded to pieces.

Bleeding profusely, now armless, Reigns spun toward Fjore—the city where his sister was fighting that wretched woman—the source of the hostile presence he felt watching him.

But… that was impossible.

Then, right before his stunned eyes, blood-red flames appeared, forming a distinct pattern.

“Son of a…!”

Before he could move, Reigns watched the entire lower half of his new body—starting from the torso—get carved into pieces.