The snow was no longer white.

It was soaked in crimson, melted in patches by the scorched, uneven heat still radiating from Ren’s ruined body.

He lay sprawled in a broken sprawl at the center of a deep crater, steam rising off his skin where frost met flame.

The black and red armor he once wore like a second skin now hung in jagged, shattered pieces, cracked open along the ribs and shoulders like a broken exoskeleton.

The runes etched into its surface had dimmed to a lifeless gray, flickering weakly before fading completely.

His skin was now dangerously pale, and strange black cracks seemed to be slowly creeping across it, sapping away the last of his strength.

Such was the cost of borrowed power.

Blood seeped from a dozen deep wounds across his body—some fresh, some cauterized by his own corrupted flames.

His right arm was bent at an unnatural angle beneath him, bones clearly shattered.

One eye was swollen shut, and his lips were cracked, bleeding, and blackened with ash.

His breathing was shallow, ragged—every inhale a struggle, every exhale a wheeze of steam and pain.

His flame... his defiance... was gone.

Yuuto stood above him, casting a long shadow over the crater, silver wings unfurled behind him like a judgment from the heavens.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath labored. Blood streaked the side of his face, and deep gashes lined his arms and torso, but they were already beginning to heal... slowly, but surely. Even so, his stance gave away one fact:

It had been a tough battle.

He had won—but not without cost.

Ren coughed weakly, the sound wet and ragged. "Looks like... I lost."

Yuuto didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Ren managed a weak chuckle.

"Guildmaster... Sir, I used to have this naive dream..." Ren continued, his voice barely more than breath, "that one of these days I’d retire to a quiet little house... somewhere away from all this. With people I love and could protect... maybe get married... you know, simple stuff."

He swallowed hard, blood staining his lips.

"I thought maybe I’d be the one giving advice to some stubborn rookie one day. Maybe even have a kid. Who knows?" His lips twitched into a faint, ironic smile. "I had a name picked out... for a daughter."

Yuuto closed his eyes, the words slicing deeper than any blade could.

"I never told you... but I looked up to you more than anyone," Ren murmured. "Even after you changed—after the defeats of our comrades all those years ago. Even after you stopped smiling. I thought... if I just held on long enough, maybe I’d see that old light in your eyes again."

Yuuto opened his mouth—then shut it. What could he say? That he was sorry? That he wished things had gone differently?

Ren’s breathing grew slower. Shallower.

"...Tell the others I was proud to fight beside them. Even when I made mistakes... I always tried to do the right thing. Even though we fought today, sir, even if in the end we didn’t see eye to eye, I want to let you know that although I don’t believe in your decision, I want to believe in the heart that made it..."

He looked at him, both of their eyes locking as Yuuto fought back the tears from spilling.

"The same heart that saved me from myself... the heart that made me live, that believed in me. Perhaps my views were truly narrow-minded, perhaps I was truly foolish in the end. I don’t want you to feel like any of this is your fault, sir, so don’t you dare beat yourself up about it."

Yuuto nodded silently.

Then, just before the final breath, Ren’s eye cracked open one last time—bloodshot, half-lidded, but focused.

A strange peace had settled into his expression.

"Guildmaster..." he whispered, "Can I ask you something?"

Yuuto leaned closer. "Anything."

Ren’s voice was soft, slurred—but clear enough to carry weight.

"If a monster teaches you how to be human... does that make him more human than you? Or does it make you a monster for listening to him?"

Yuuto froze.

Ren’s eyes drifted shut.

And this time, they didn’t open again.

The snow fell heavier now, blanketing Ren’s still body in white—softly, gently, like a shroud. The winds quieted. Even the earth seemed to mourn.

Yuuto remained kneeling for a long time, staring at the man who had once called him mentor... who had reminded him, in the end, what it meant to care.

And somewhere deep inside the immortal Guildmaster, that question echoed louder than any war drum.

Then, slowly, wordlessly, Yuuto leaned forward.

He reached out with one trembling hand and gently closed Ren’s remaining eye.

"You fool," he murmured, voice barely audible beneath the whispering snow. "To suddenly become so wise during your last moments... I don’t know if I should be proud—or devastated."

His hand lingered just a moment longer over Ren’s face.

Then—light.

Soft, radiant, and slow.

Ren’s broken body began to crack along the lines of his wounds—only instead of blood, thin streaks of white light bled from the fractures. His limbs trembled once, then began to dissolve, scattering into motes of pure brilliance.

One by one, the particles lifted upward into the sky—weightless, shimmering, defying the storm that raged around them.

Yuuto said nothing more.

He simply stood there, watching it all go.

Snow fell harder now, crashing downward in thick, relentless sheets—but the light rose steadily through it, unhindered.

Like a soul refusing to bow to gravity.

Like a final dream... breaking free at last.

Yuuto stood alone, surrounded by silence and snow, the wind howling like a distant lament through the broken courtyard.

He didn’t look at the sky. Not yet.

Instead, his voice broke softly through the cold.

"Mortal lives are so fleeting... most never last a century. They come and go so fast that if one doesn’t put in the effort, they might suddenly appear and disappear—like sparks in a void."