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The island had already begun to take shape long before the first blade was ever drawn out
The exhaustion they carried was no longer something that could be pushed aside with focus or ignored through adrenaline
It had settled deep, far beneath muscle and bone, into something quieter and far more dangerous, the kind of fatigue that did not scream but instead dulled reactions, slowed thoughts, and made every decision feel heavier than it should have been
Their supplies had been running thin for days, potions counted down to what barely qualified as an emergency reserve, armor and weapons durability was barely sticking together
Even Flame blade, something that had always felt like an extension of himself, now carried a different weight in his hand, not heavier but worn, as if the metal itself remembered every strike, every clash, every moment it had been pushed too far across the battle that had led them here
The training arc had carved its marks into both of them in ways that did not fade simply because the fighting had resumed, and Flame could still feel it in the tension across his shoulders whenever he moved too sharply, in the lingering ache in his wrists from hours of relentless drills
None of those changes had happened alone, and that was the part that made everything now feel worse, because Wemmbu had been there through all of it without exception
Through every spar that ended with one of them flat on the ground
Through every quiet moment where exhaustion threatened to break something neither of them wanted to name
Through every night where Flame insisted he was fine even when his hands trembled from overwork
Wemmbu had always been there, sometimes as his opponent pushing him harder than anyone else ever could
Sometimes as the one patching him up afterward with a gentleness that never matched the brutality of his fighting
And sometimes simply sitting beside him in silence when words felt too sharp to hold without cutting something open
That constancy was what made this hurt before it had even begun, because Flame was already worn raw, already stretched thin, and now they were here because of Jaden
The name alone left something bitter behind every time it surfaced, a taste that never quite faded no matter how much time passed
Flame didn’t care about him, not in any way that mattered, and he had never pretended otherwise, because there was too much history tangled into that name, too much betrayal buried in the foundation of it for anything resembling trust to exist again
Jaden was not someone he would have come for, not someone he would have risked what little they had left for, and that truth sat heavy and unmoving no matter how much the situation tried to demand otherwise
Wemmbu knew that, understood it in a way few others ever could, because he carried his own scars where lost carved deeper in many ways, wounds shaped by things Flame had only ever seen fragments of
And still, somewhere during that *Vacation* (Invisible Arc), something had shifted between Wemmbu and Jaden, something Flame had never fully understood but had seen clearly enough to recognize its impact
Wemmbu had chosen to believe there was something worth holding onto, something worth saving and that choice had been enough to bring them here
“We need him” Wemmbu had said earlier that morning, his voice quieter than usual as they prepared to leave, the weight of the decision already settled in the way he stood
Flame had been sitting on the edge of their temporary camp, sharpening his blade with slow, deliberate movements, irritation threading through each pass of the stone against metal
“For what?” He had asked without looking up, his tone flat and unyielding “So he can stab us in the back again?”
Wemmbu had sighed softly, wings shifting faintly behind him in a restless motion that betrayed more tension than his voice did “Flame, even I don’t want to admit it but we need him to take down Law”
Flame remembered looking up then, meeting his eyes and seeing it clearly despite everything else, the exhaustion, yes, but also the conviction beneath it, steady and unshaken in a way that made arguing feel pointless before it even began
And because it was Wemmbu asking, because it mattered to him in a way Flame could not dismiss, he had agreed
Not for Jaden
Never for Jaden
For Wemmbu
Always for him
Now, standing within the land where Law base shadow sprawling, Flame could feel the weight of that decision pressing against him with every step forward, each movement through the layered structure reinforcing the sense that something here was deeply, fundamentally wrong
The island itself stretched far beyond what they had anticipated, its walls and pathways disappearing into sand mist and dust, but Flame barely spared it a glance, because it was not the size that unsettled him
It was the feeling, the quiet certainty that nothing here was accidental, that every path had been considered, every space designed not for habitation but for control
The sun made the sand glows beneath their boots, turning each step into something precarious, torchlight flickered along high walls in distorted halos, even the air itself carried a tension that refused to ease
They were being watched
Not just observed but guided
Wemmbu felt it too, and Flame could see it in the way his wings never fully settled, in how his gaze kept lifting to the higher structures instead of focusing only on the ground ahead, tracking angles and vantage points rather than obvious threats
Neither of them said it aloud, they didn’t need to, the understanding already present between them in a way words could not have improved
This wasn’t a rescue
This was a setup
And still, they moved forward, because turning back had never been a real option, not once they had come this far
When Law finally revealed himself, standing above them with that infuriating calm, Jaden is still nowhere to be found
Only cold, familiar irritation
Of course this was how it would go
Of course it was a trap
LettuceK smile confirmed it before a single word needed to be spoken, and the moment stretched just long enough to make the inevitability of what came next settle into place
Then the attack began
It came from all sides at once, coordinated and immediate, leaving no room for hesitation as weapons flashed through the rain and the courtyard erupted into motion
Flame reacted on instinct, his blade igniting with heat that pushed back the damp chill, flames trailing each strike as he forced space around himself through sheer aggression
Steam rose in bursts where fire met rain, the air filling with the sharp hiss of evaporating water as he drove one opponent back and pivoted into another, every movement precise but strained by the exhaustion he could no longer ignore
Beside him, Wemmbu moved with a force that cut through the chaos like something inevitable, his spear striking first with lethal precision before shifting seamlessly into the heavy arc of his mace
Each impact rang out with a force that cracked stone beneath it, each motion tied into a rhythm that Flame knew as instinctively as his own breathing
Together, they fought the way they always had, not as separate fighters but as something interconnected, Flame creating openings, Wemmbu exploiting them, each covering the other without needing to think
For a moment, it held
For a moment, they pushed forward
For a moment, it just two players against the world
They both got a sense of Deja Vu here
Then the sound cut through everything
A low, rising hum that did not belong to the battle, mechanical and wrong in a way that made Flame instincts react before his mind fully caught up
His gaze snapped upward and the moment he saw it, something cold settled deep in his chest
The cannon
Mounted above the courtyard with deliberate precision, its core gathering light that intensified with each passing second
Orbit arrow cannon
Understanding came all at once, sharp and unforgiving, because this was not random and it was not reactive. This had been planned from the start
Him
If they could not kill him in the fight
They would do it like this
The glow sharpened into something blinding, the energy condensing into a single point that left no room for doubt and Flame realized, in the span of a heartbeat, that there was no time left to react, no space to move, no way to avoid what was coming
Then it fired
The arrow tore through the rain in a line of white hot destruction, a sound that felt less like a projectile and more like something screaming as it cut through the air, aimed directly for his chest with an accuracy that made everything else irrelevant
Flame didn’t move
He couldn’t
There not enough time to-
“FLAME!”
Wemmbu moved
Flame would remember that moment with a clarity that would never fade, every detail preserved in a way that made it impossible to escape, the exact way Wemmbu attention snapped toward the cannon, the instant recognition, the decision that followed without hesitation
He didn’t step back, didn’t try to pull Flame out of the way, didn’t even pause long enough for doubt to exist
He stepped forward
Into the line of fire
“WEMMBU-!”
The arrow struck
The impact was violent in a way that defied description, energy exploding outward as it hit, swallowing Wemmbu in a burst of blinding light before slamming fully into him
His body jerked back under the force, wings flaring wide as if trying to counter something that could not be stopped, and in that suspended, unbearable instant, his eyes met Flame
There was shock there
Pain
And something deeper that broke Flame the moment he saw it
Then Wemmbu was thrown back
Something inside Flame gave way completely
That was supposed to be me.
It wasn’t a thought
It was a certainty
Absolute and inescapable
Every part of that had been meant for him, and Wemmbu had seen it, understood it, chosen him anyway without hesitation
Flame moved, everything else falling away as he surged forward, reaching for him with a desperation that overrode every other instinct
And then the world detonated
The TNT machine triggered with a deafening roar, the blast catching him mid motion and launching him skyward with unstoppable force
The ground vanished beneath him, the courtyard collapsing into a blur of fire, smoke, and shattered stone, but even as he was ripped away from it, his focus never shifted
He kept reaching
His hand stayed outstretched toward where Wemmbu had been, toward where he still was
The last thing he saw before distance tore them apart was Wemmbu collapsing beneath the fading light of the impact
Then the sky swallowed everything
Wind tore past him as the island shrank below, the ocean stretching endlessly beneath and still… his mind remained trapped in that moment, replaying it with a precision that made it impossible to escape
Wemmbu stepping forward
The impact
The look in his eyes
That was supposed to be me
When he finally hit the water, when the force drove the air from his lungs and dragged him deep before instinct forced him back to the surface
The grief that followed was immediate and overwhelming, not something that built slowly but something that crashed into him all at once
By the time he dragged himself onto solid ground, pulling up his coordinates with shaking hands and seeing the distance laid out in cold, unchanging numbers, the reality of it settled in with a weight that left no room for denial
Millions of blocks
Separated exactly as planned
And somewhere far beyond that distance, Wemmbu was still there
Because he had chosen to be
Because he had chosen him
And the only thing Flame could hold onto, as the storm closed in around him and the ocean stretched endlessly in every direction, was the truth that refused to leave him, no matter how much it hurt
That was supposed to be him
“That was supposed to be me” He muttered under his breath, the words rough and unsteady as they left him, but his grip tightened, his stance solidifying as the meaning behind them shifted, no longer just guilt but something sharper, something driving
It wasn’t going to end like this
Not with distance
Not with separation
Not with him stranded while Wemmbu- Wemmbu…
Flame turned toward the open sea, already moving, already planning, his mind racing through possibilities even as his chest ached with everything he would left behind
He would cross every block between them
He would tear through anything that stood in his way
He would give the person separate them a slow painful death
And when he found him
His jaw clenched, something fierce and unyielding settling into place beneath the grief
He would make sure Wemmbu never had to take a hit mindlessly like that again