Ash hit the ground with a hard thud. His back screamed in pain as he rolled over, coughing dust out of his lungs.
He sat up slowly, blinking at the light above. He was back at the Ridge again, by the looks of it he was maybe somewhere in the middle of the Northern Reach. No shaking skies, no voices whispering doom. Just silence.
And then he saw him.
Ken, lying on the grass. Whole. Alive.
Ash blinked again. Was it... real? Was he alive again? Was any of it even real? His fingers dug into the dirt as panic built up in his chest. "No. No, I don't have time for this."
He scrambled toward Ken and shook him gently. "Ken," he whispered. "Ken, wake up."
Ken's eyes opened—and Ash froze. There was no joy. No relief. No recognition.
Just terror. Pure, deep terror.
Ken's whole body jolted like he'd been struck by lightning. His eyes locked on Ash like he was a ghost or a demon. And then—he ran. Stumbling over himself, crawling away, until he ducked behind a jagged rock, shaking like a child hiding from a monster.
Ash stood there, arms half-raised, confused, scared. "Ken?"
No answer.
"Why…?" his voice cracked.
Ken didn't speak. He just stared at Ash with wide eyes, making soft, broken sounds—like a wounded animal.
Ash took a small step forward, hands open, slow, like you'd approach someone trying not to spook them.
But Ken moved first.
The blood around him shifted.
From the ground, something rose, a serpent made of blood hissed into the air, its eyes glowing with hatred. It lunged toward Ash, wrapping around him like chains, pulling him down, choking his arms and legs.
"Stop—" Ash gasped, struggling as the blood tightened.
The tendrils burned as they wrapped tighter, dragging him to the ground. He fought, his breath ragged, heart pounding. "Please—Ken, it's me!"
But Ken didn't answer. He just watched, silent, broken.
Ash screamed as he twisted, his body fighting the binds. And then, without thinking—he reached for the sword.
That sword. The one the strange man had given him. It was there, somehow. Resting beside him in the grass, as if it had been waiting for him the whole time.
Ash grabbed it.
The blade felt cold, like holding a memory made of metal. Before he could think, his body moved on its own. One swing—clean, sharp—and the serpent shattered into red mist.
More tendrils flew at him, wild and fast.
Ash didn't hesitate.
He slashed through them, each cut faster than thought. His movements were smooth, deadly. The sword danced in his hands like it belonged there.
And still—nothing made sense.
Why was the sword here?
Ash stood there, panting, surrounded by fading blood mist. The sword in his hand dripped nothing, but it felt heavy with something worse than blood. He looked at Ken again—who still hid behind the rock, not saying a word.
Ash lowered the sword. And for the first time in a long time… he felt afraid of himself.
"Ken," He whispered, taking a step back, raising his free hand. "It's me. I don't wanna fight you."
Ken didn't answer. The blood moved like it heard his pain. It exploded forward, shaped into jagged red blades aimed at Ash's chest.
Ash rolled to the side just in time. The blood knives sliced into the ground behind him with a snap, tearing deep lines through the stone like it was soft meat. He barely had a second before another wave came crashing toward him.
He blocked the next one with the sword. The moment he raised the blade, something clicked inside his brain like a whisper.
His arms twitched. His grip tightened. The sword felt alive—like it wanted to taste blood again.
Ken's blood.
Ash gasped, stepping back fast. But the sword pulsed in his hands. His fingers wouldn't let go. Ken kept attacking. His attacks were faster now, sharper, driven by fear and madness. Blood circled him like a storm, forming claws, whips, blades—he threw everything at Ash.
And Ash dodged and parried. Barely holding himself back. Every time the blade moved, it begged to strike deeper. To stop holding back. To kill.
Ash fought it. He grit his teeth, breathing heavy, sweat rolling down his face. He could hear the sword's voice now—not in words, but in feeling. It whispered to him like an itch in the back of his skull.
'Cut him. Spill him. Finish it.'
Ash screamed and smashed the sword into the ground to break his focus, sending sparks flying. "SHUT UP!"
Ken didn't stop. He launched himself forward, his body covered in shifting blood armor, fists raised. Ash barely blocked the first punch. The second one cracked his jaw. The third slammed into his ribs, nearly knocking the air out of him.
Ash stumbled back, coughing.
'Don't hit him. Don't hit him back. Don't give in.'
He wanted to drop the sword, but somehow, he couldn't. Ken rushed again, faster this time—his movements wild, broken. Ash dodged a swipe of a blood whip, but Ken was already there, right in his face.
Ash blocked a punch, twisted around, and kicked Ken away, not with strength, but just enough to create space. Ken growled like an animal and pulled both arms up. The blood on the ground shook, lifting into a giant serpent again—its mouth open, fangs made of bone.
It lunged.
Ash screamed as he brought the sword up, slicing through the air. The serpent crashed into the blade and exploded into red mist—but the energy knocked Ash off his feet. He flew back, landing hard.
His vision blurred, and through the blur… he saw Ken. Crying. Still attacking. He was afraid, yet still fighting.
Ash's body moved on its own again. The sword rose—pointed straight at Ken.
"No…" he whispered, voice shaking.
Ken charged as Ash blocked. He twisted, parried the blow, and spun behind him. The sword was at Ken's back now. Inches away from slicing him in half.
His hands shook. "Please stop…" Ash begged, tears in his eyes. "Don't make me… please."
But the sword wanted it. It begged him. It screamed inside his head.
'Kill him.'
Ash roared in pain and threw the sword away. It stabbed into the ground far behind him with a loud thunk, pulsing faintly like a living thing.
He turned back, and Ken was gone. He looked around, chest heaving. Nothing.
Then, a fist slammed into the back of his head. He hit the ground hard. Ken stood above him, panting, shaking, crying.
Ash didn't move. He just lay there.
"No more," he said quietly. "If this is what I've become… then kill me."
Ken stood there, hand raised. The blood hovered around him, ready to strike. But he couldn't do it.
Ken dropped on his knees, and the blood dropped with him.
And finally, the silence returned. Ash lay on the ground, broken. Ken knelt beside him, broken too. Neither of them said anything. They just breathed.
Two scared boys in a world that was burning.