DIVINE BANE-Chapter 80: the birth of ARGUS

Uriel blinked.

A ripple of unknown emotions ran down his spine, they were cold and unnatural.

He turned.

but there was no one.

Nothing stood behind him expect his feeling... which was terrifying , absolute, suffocating. Suddenly the scent of blood became thicker and the air turned heavier.

He narrowed his gaze, scanning the smoke and corpses.

Then he looked back

And his hand was gone.

His right forearm, the one gripping Rick's skull, had been cleaved clean off, sliced so precisely that it hadn't even bled until now.

Then the pain hit like a tsunami.

"AaaaaAAARGHHH!"

He staggered back howling like a dying best, a divine scream that shattered windows and sent birds fleeing from the burning estate. He clutched the gushing stump, a wild fury in his eyes, but more than that

there was fear.

True, primal fear.

For the first time since he descended upon the estate, Uriel was afraid.

He turned in every direction, desperate to see the one who had wounded him. A being capable of striking an Aryan without being seen? and Without warning?

Then, through the drifting ash, he saw something impossible.

A boy with white hair.

Zander.

Carrying Rick's broken body in his arms, Zander walked slowly steadily across the courtyard. He moved past Uriel without even looking at him, the way one might walk past a fallen tree or broken statue. Insignificant.

Uriel snarled and raised his remaining arm, Rhu swirling in his left arm to strike

"Ingrate. You dare turn your back on a—"

"On your knees," Zander said.

It wasn't a shout. It wasn't even a command. It was a whisper, soft and cold.

And Uriel dropped.

Not willingly. Not by choice.

His body simply obeyed.

With a heavy crash, the Aryan collapsed to the ground, knees slamming into stone. Dust burst beneath him. He struggled, tried to rise, muscles screaming to move.

Nothing.

Panic twisted his face. "What—what did you do to me?!"

Zander didn't respond. He was already kneeling beside a scorched pillar, gently laying Rick down against the warm stone.

Uriel roared, struggling against the invisible weight forcing him down. "You think this changes anything?! I am an Aryan! You are nothing!"

He tried to rise.

He couldn't.

He tried to speak again.

But Zander turned.

His voice came quiet and he spoke just two words.

"Shut up."

Uriel's mouth clamped shut.

Forcefully.

His jaw locked as if sealed by invisible chains, teeth grinding in frustration. He tried to scream, to will his mouth open with might but it wouldn't budge. Even sound betrayed him.

A muffled, furious groan escaped as he thrashed uselessly in place.

Zander ignored him.

He turned back to Rick.

Tears welled at the corners of his eyes as he looked upon the child's shattered form. The little boy's face was broken nearly beyond recognition. His arms twisted at angles that defied life. And yet his chest still rose.

Barely.

"Rick..." Zander whispered, voice shaking. He cradled the boy's bloodied head, brushing matted hair from his eyes. "You shouldn't have... Why didn't you run?"

Rick's mouth twitched.

Zander leaned in, crouching lower, so the boy wouldn't have to strain. Even now, Rick tried to speak with a jaw that no longer moved properly, with a throat raw from screams, with a body that barely held together.

And somehow, from between swollen lips and fractured bone, the boy uttered—

"M-make him... pay."

Zander closed his eyes. His hand gripped Rick's tightly.

"I will."

The words weren't a promise.

They were a sentence.

Zander rose slowly, gently lowering Rick's hand to his chest. He turned to face Uriel, who was still on his knees, still silent, still bound by the sheer gravity of Zander's will.

For the first time, Zander looked directly at him.

Zander vanished.

A flicker, a blur of motion faster than the eye could register.

Then he stood before Uriel.

Face-to-face.

The fallen angel barely had time to process it. Blood poured from his back where a wing had once been. His divine body, once untouchable, trembled under the weight of something he couldn't explain. Power not of gods or monsters but something deeper.

Something final.

"You shouldn't have," Zander whispered, voice cold enough to kill.

Then—rip.

Zander reached forward and plucked the remaining wing from Uriel's back.

No effort.

No hesitation.

The flesh tore like wet paper. Divine light exploded from the wound, but it fizzled into ash almost instantly. Uriel's body arched back in agony. He tried to scream, but nothing came. Only a silent cry, twisted and strangled. His eyes wide, mouth gaping in mute horror as tears real, involuntary tears spilled from the corners.

Zander didn't pause.

He grabbed Uriel by the hair, dragging his head forward with a jerk.

And then he punched.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Blood splattered in arcs with each blow, spraying across Zander's pale face, down his arms. Uriel's divine features collapsed with each strike his nose shattered, cheekbones caved in, eyes ruptured.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Zander's fist moved like a piston. No scream. No words. Just silent rage given form.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Uriel's skull split with a sickening crack. Brain matter began to ooze through the fractures in his crumpled head. His body spasmed. Legs kicked feebly. Hands twitched.

Zander didn't stop until the movements ceased.

The last blow made a wet, final sound, one that silenced even the wind.

And then he stopped.

Uriel's face or what remained hung limp in Zander's grip. Crushed like overripe fruit, his once-immaculate features now nothing but pulp and ruin. Blood and divine fluid trickled from his skull, pooling on the stones beneath them.

The sun broke over the horizon, casting golden light across the smoldering ruins of the Ravenhart estate.

Zander stood in that glow, a figure carved in crimson, surrounded by ash, flame, and silence.

He let go.

Uriel's body crumpled to the ground like trash tossed aside. Wings gone. Face obliterated. No longer a being of power or terror.

Just another corpse.

Zander turned slowly, his eyes finding Rick.

The boy lay slumped against the pillar where he had been placed, chest still faintly rising but barely. The light behind his eyes dimmed, the last threads of life slipping away.

Zander rushed to him, kneeling, cradling the boy's fragile form once more.

Rick's lips twitched. Blood pooled between his teeth. His eyes, clouded with pain, still held defiance. Still held hope.

Zander leaned in close.

Rick's breath rattled, weak and fading.

"Even...in this life i ..." he whispered, the words barely audible, "...couldn't save... all..."

Zander's breath caught.

Tears welled again, cutting trails through the blood on his face.

Rick smiled slightly, despite the agony.

"th..thank...you."

His fingers twitched in Zander's grip.

And then...

They stopped.

The boy's chest stilled.

Silence.

Zander didn't move. Didn't blink. The sun climbed higher behind them, its light casting long shadows across the battlefield of the brave.

The war was over.

and now...

There was only grief.

Then something stirred.

A hum.

Faint... ancient...unholy.

Zander's eyes flicked open. The air around them shifted warped as if reality itself held its breath.

From the torn inner pocket of his coat, the Ring of Solomon began to shiver.

A soft tremble at first.

Then a violent quake.

It slipped free or rather it launched from his pocket darting through the air like a star and hovered above Rick's unmoving form.

Zander recoiled. "What ?"

The ring pulsed with golden light.

Then, with impossible grace, it slid itself onto Rick's left ring finger.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

And then there was Darkness.

A sphere of shadow erupted around Rick, engulfing his body in a cocoon of black flame and whispering voices. Arcane symbols shimmered across its surface some divine, others older than language.

Zander stood, eyes wide, heart pounding.

The sphere quaked. Energy lashed out in chaotic tendrils. The very earth beneath them trembled.

And then all of it the shadows, the light, the runes collapsed inward.

Sucked into Rick.

Every wisp of power, every murmur of the ancient language vanished into his small frame.

The air snapped.

Silence fell once again.

Rick hovered.

No longer broken.

Bones reformed beneath skin. His twisted limbs straightened with soft cracks. His face, once smashed beyond recognition, was now whole beautiful, youthful, untouched. The bruises faded. The dried blood peeled away. His chest rose again this time stronger. Steady.

Zander's eyes widened. His lips parted in stunned awe.

"...The ring chose it owner..." he whispered, voice trembling.

A single tear slid down his cheek.

"...Maybe this time..." he said, breath catching, "...this regression... I won't be alone."

Rick's body stopped floating.

He began to fall.

But before his body could even brush the ground, Zander flickered, a heartbeat of speed and caught him gently in his arms.

He held the boy close, feeling warmth, life, where there had been only death moments before.

Rick's eyes fluttered open slightly. Just enough to see Zander's face, soaked in tears and light.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Rick's mouth.

Then sleep took him peaceful, unburdened.

Zander stood slowly, holding Rick against his chest. The first light of dawn wrapped around them both, golden and quiet.

In the background, Uriel's body lay in ruins, forgotten.

But here...

Here stood the spark of something new.

A beginning born from sacrifice.

A future rewritten by defiance.

Zander looked to the rising sun and felt hope.