The world outside is chaos.Thunder roars across the blood-red sky as rain lashes against the ruins.The final storm.The final reckoning.
Celeste staggers onto the shattered courtyard. The whole place reeks of smoke and betrayal. Her side bleeds, staining her tunic crimson. But her heart?Steel. Fire. Unbreakable.
Across the courtyard, Vale stands.Waiting.No illusions now. No tricks.Just him. And her.Two storms about to collide.
Vale's black cloak flaps violently in the wind. He draws his sword—sleek, jagged, alive with dark energy. His face, normally smug, is dead serious. "You've impressed me," he says, voice raw. "More than anyone else ever could."He smirks grimly. "Too bad it has to end."
Celeste lifts her dagger, its blade shimmering with the last light of the dying sun. Her fingers tremble—not with fear, but with rage held barely in check. "It does end," she snarls. "Tonight. Here. With you crawling at my feet."
Vale laughs—a hollow, broken sound. "Come then, Vixen. Let's see if the world remembers you as a martyr or a monster."
⚡ They charge.
Blades clash with an explosion of sparks.Celeste ducks a killing blow and drives her dagger toward Vale's ribs—misses by an inch as he twists away like a shadow. He retaliates, slicing her arm open. Blood spatters onto the cracked stones, steaming in the rain.
Celeste grits her teeth and counterattacks with a brutal flurry. Every strike is fueled by years of lies, of pain, of stolen dreams.Vale barely keeps up, backpedaling with a snarl.
"You fight like a woman with nothing left!" he shouts over the storm.
"I fight like a woman with everything to gain!" Celeste roars back, forcing him to retreat step by brutal step.
A lightning bolt crashes just yards away, lighting their figures in stark white. For a moment, they look like two demons locked in eternal war.
Vale lunges—Celeste parries—He twists—She ducks—He roars and throws everything into one last vicious strike—
Celeste sidesteps at the last possible second.Her dagger plunges deep into Vale's side.
The world slows down.Vale gasps. He stares at her in disbelief, blood blooming like black roses over his coat.
Celeste leans in, voice low, dangerous. "You taught me to survive. You just forgot—I learned to win."
With a wrench, she rips the dagger free.Vale falls to his knees, rain pouring down on him like a baptism in fire and failure.
He laughs once—weak, bitter. "You... you really were my greatest creation," he whispers.
Celeste steps back, breathing hard. Her arm throbs. Her side burns. But she stands tall. Victorious. Untouchable.
She watches as Damien Vale—the monster who haunted her life—collapses completely, breath rattling from his lungs. His body is soon still, rain soaking into the stones around him.
It's over.
Celeste staggers away, the dagger still clenched in her hand. Her legs tremble but she doesn't fall. She won't fall.Not now. Not ever again.
Around her, the old fortress crumbles. The storm begins to clear.The world itself seems to breathe again, lighter now that Vale's darkness has been snuffed out.
As she limps toward the gates, a familiar figure waits in the distance—Aria.Broken, sobbing, weaponless.
Celeste meets her eyes from across the distance.No words are needed.No forgiveness is given.Only the cold, brutal truth: some betrayals carve wounds that never heal.
Celeste turns her back without a word.Aria falls to her knees in the mud, weeping.
Celeste walks away into the sunrise, rain washing the blood from her skin, from her soul.She has scars.She has memories.But she also has something stronger:
Freedom.
And the world will never forget the girl who rose from the ashes, dagger in hand, teeth bared, daring anyone to stand in her way again.
The Vixen has survived.The Vixen has won.