The ember in Jhonathan's hand pulsed like a heartbeat, a fragile shard of hope in a city hollowed by fire. He had not expected an opponent — not so soon, and certainly not her. Sylviana stepped forward, hood now thrown back, her eyes reflecting the starlight. Calm, unreadable, and yet alive with the promise of chaos.
"Jhonathan," she said, her voice soft but lethal. "I didn't want it to come to this. But the shard… it resonates too strongly with you. I can't let it fall into your hands untouched."
He tightened his grip on the ember. "Then fight me. I won't stop for words." Brunhilde's shadow stretched behind him, coiled and ready, whispering the promise of destruction.
Sylviana lifted her palms skyward. The star above trembled as if recognizing her. A deep, resonant hum began — not from her voice, but from the air itself. Dust swirled around her, forming runes that shimmered violet and black. The hum grew into a roar in Jhonathan's chest, vibrating through his bones.
"You've never seen the Star of Death," Sylviana said, her voice now layered with something else — the echo of the star. "It chooses no one, but it can empower the worthy… or punish the reckless."
From her fingertips, shadows curled into spires of light and darkness intertwined. Each spire was jagged and alive, like miniature meteors of death, circling her like orbiting moons. She moved her hands in a slow pattern, and the air warped around her. One spire detached and shot forward with impossible speed — not aimed at Jhonathan yet, but toward the ground between them, detonating into a wave of shadow and light that cracked stone and twisted space.
Jhonathan barely dodged, rolling under the wave as Brunhilde materialized fully, claws extending, eyes glowing like molten gold. The Valkyrie hissed in challenge, sensing the new power.
"You've grown," he said, voice tight. "But I've survived worse."
Sylviana's eyes flickered with the star's own light. Her movements became a blur; each strike left afterimages in violet and black. Her Star of Death power was not just offensive — it bent perception, creating copies of herself that were as real as she was, each capable of attacking independently.
Jhonathan swung Brunhilde in a wide arc. Two copies of Sylviana vanished into shadows, leaving only a single figure standing. He cursed, slashing through the remaining afterimages. Each strike felt heavier, the air itself resisting him. The Star of Death pulsed — for every shadow he destroyed, two more would flicker into existence, feeding off the fear and determination radiating from him.
"You can't hold me forever!" he shouted, stepping back and gathering energy into Brunhilde's core. Golden light flared, rippling across the ground.
Sylviana tilted her head, almost amused. "I don't need forever. I only need one moment."
She channeled the Star of Death fully, and the air above her split like shattered glass. Shadows rained down, forming spectral blades that hovered in midair. A purple eclipse formed behind her, feeding the shadows with light stolen from the star itself. The ground beneath Jhonathan cracked as the blades converged, each one seeking the smallest weakness in his defense.
Jhonathan roared, leaping into the air with Brunhilde, claws slashing at the incoming blades. Sparks flew. The shards of shadow collided with gold light, detonating with a sound like a thunderclap splitting the sky.
But one blade slipped through — a slender, violet edge that cut toward his chest. In a heartbeat, Brunhilde twisted, shielding him, and the blade passed through the Valkyrie's shadow as if she were nothing but smoke.
The world froze for a moment. Jhonathan's eyes met Sylviana's — not hate, not sorrow, but recognition. She, too, bore the weight of the shards, the fragments of the star, and now the Star of Death had awakened within her.
"I warned you," she whispered. "The world doesn't forgive those who carry pieces of itself unprepared. Now… let's see if you're worthy."
The duel had begun in earnest. Shadows, light, and star-fire collided, reshaping the ruined city with every strike. Neither could afford a single misstep — one wrong move and the Star of Death would claim victory, consuming everything around it.
And yet, deep in Jhonathan's chest, the ember pulsed, whispering that survival was more than strength… it was understanding.