The molten fortress was eerily silent. Shadows stretched long over the broken stones, whispering echoes of battles past. Rin, Miyu, and the faint memory of Akari lingered together, bound by grief that burned hotter than any flame. Ivan's absence was a physical weight pressing against their chests, suffocating, relentless.
"He… he's really gone," Rin whispered, tears streaming freely. She knelt by the spot where Ivan had fallen, fingertips brushing the faint remnants of his shadows. Each pulse of energy that remained was a ghostly caress, a reminder of the man who had commanded, protected, and loved them all with unwavering ferocity.
Miyu's blades were sheathed, but they felt heavy in her hands, useless in the void his death had left. "Every plan, every fight… it was him guiding us," she murmured, voice trembling. She knelt beside Rin, pressing her hand to Rin's shoulder in quiet solidarity, sharing the unbearable weight of loss.
Rin bowed her head, sobbing, flames flickering weakly along her arms as if reacting to her sorrow. Memories flooded her mind—warmth pressed against her side during strategy sessions, whispered instructions that had blended intimacy and guidance, touches that had been both desire and weapon. Every intimate moment was now a dagger in her chest.
"I can still feel him… in every touch, every heartbeat," Rin choked, her voice barely audible. "He was ours… and now he's gone."
Miyu exhaled sharply, the sound tearing through the stillness. "We must carry him with us. Every bond, every lesson, every fragment of his power—we live because he gave everything."
Together, they arranged the remnants of Ivan's weapons, artefacts, and personal effects in a quiet corner of the fortress, a makeshift shrine. The air was thick with grief, molten heat, and a lingering sense of loss. Every glance, every memory was heavy with emotion.
Rin touched the faint glow of an artefact Ivan had used to amplify his crossover powers. "Even in death… he's guiding us. Every whisper, every shiver, every fleeting touch… all of it is still here."
Miyu's gaze softened but remained resolute. "We will honor him… not just in mourning, but in living. His strategies, his bonds… his heart—every piece of him—we carry forward."
For a long while, the harem sat in silence, hands intertwined, hearts beating in rhythm with memories of Ivan. Each heartbeat was a mixture of sorrow, love, and lingering desire—a poignant reminder of everything they had shared, everything they had lost, and everything they still carried.
The molten halls reflected two figures—flame and steel—standing amidst the ashes of shadow, bound in grief, memory, and the painful intimacy of loss. Each tear, each whisper, each lingering memory strengthened their resolve, while etching the depth of tragedy into the fortress forever.