"CRACK!"
The blade came down on Akram, narrowly missing him and lodging itself directly into the door of the research center, already weakened by the explosion that had occurred earlier.
It wasn't Akram's body that had broken, but Kravash's. The wound Akram had inflicted on him had pushed him past the point of no return.
"THIS ISN'T OVER!!" Kravash roared as blood sprayed violently from his torso.
He raised his blade once more, but Akram didn't give him the chance.
He lunged forward, grabbed him by the waist, and slammed him to the ground. Akram finally had the upper hand.
And then, the sensation Akram felt was something he had never experienced before.
His body moved on its own.
All the pain, all the anger, all the humiliation he had accumulated until now, Akram had buried deep inside himself just to survive.
But right in front of him was Kravash. His outlet.
Akram's eyes drained of all emotion, all light, replaced by a darkness so deep that a hole torn through the universe would have looked like a bedside lamp in comparison.
He clenched his fist. Pulled it back, then brought it down onto Kravash's face.
Violently. With pure violence. With rage and fury so intense it felt like his fist crackled like burning embers.
His second punch landed. Then the third. Then the fourth. And again, and again.
Akram threw blows without restraint, without form, violence in its rawest state. Ignoring his own wounds and pain, Kravash's blood sprayed from his face, mixing with the blood of Akram's torn knuckles.
Kravash took the hits without being able to fight back, groaning every time one landed.
But the machine finally stopped when Akram collapsed.
Kravash took advantage of it and kicked Akram away one last time. Akram crashed to the ground, struggling to get back up. Kravash rose instinctively and pulled out a pocket knife hidden in the pouch at his lower back.
His survival instinct had taken over.
He no longer saw Akram as a nuisance, but as a predator that needed to be put down immediately.
He charged at him, howling like a savage, ready to end the fight once and for all.
Akram was empty. He couldn't get back up, couldn't even raise his arms to defend himself.
Ah… so this is how it ends, huh…? Shit…! he thought.
But just as he slowly closed his eyes,
A glimmer appeared in the darkness of the research center.
Kravash lifted his gaze, drawn to the light. A knife.
A knife, thrown at full speed toward him.
He had barely a millisecond to react. Far too late.
"Shit!" he muttered flatly.
The knife slammed cleanly between his eyes. His skull snapped back a few centimeters.
His body froze, standing still for a few seconds, before collapsing almost pathetically to the ground.
Akram couldn't believe his eyes. Just when he thought his life was over, he had been saved—almost in a cliché way.
But he quickly understood that wasn't the case. No. He turned around instantly, his strength returning, because he knew exactly who was behind him.
Stepping out of the shadows of the door previously destroyed by Kravash's Bone-Breaker, a female silhouette appeared—deeply exhausted, thin, but still standing strong.
Leyla.
She was there, emerging from the research center, covered in dried blood, carrying that same unyielding look she had always had.
Akram stood up, staring at her intensely.
As he was about to speak, images flooded his mind. Images of Kra. Images of him smiling. Images of him dead…
Akram remembered that he had failed his promise. Once again, he hadn't been able to protect Kra—for Leyla.
He lowered his gaze, teeth clenched. He didn't dare face her after that.
She walked toward him. Neutral expression. Firm steps.
As Akram prepared to speak, to offer his sincerest apologies and confess everything, he was cut off.
Leyla rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him.
Akram's eyes widened, his throat tightened—just like Leyla's grip around him.
His lips trembled. He slowly closed his eyes, just like her. They both began to cry. Akram held her tightly in return.
"Took you long enough… asshole…" she said softly.
"I-I… I know… I'm sorry… I'm sorry." Akram replied.
They stayed there, holding each other for a few seconds. Until groans and shouts interrupted them.
"AKRAM!" a distant voice screamed.
Akram released Leyla and turned toward the noise. A Vulkan ran toward him, panic written all over her face.
"AKRAM! We managed to close the door, but we're barely holding them back! They won't take long to break in again! We've already lost two people… What do we do?!"
Akram lowered his eyes for a moment, stayed silent for a second, then spoke:
"I know what we're going to do."
He walked over to Elliot and slapped him a few times, trying to wake him up.
Elliot sat up with difficulty, his gaze unfocused, his body weak.
"S-So… shit… You got him?" he asked Akram, searching for Kravash.
When his eyes landed on the body, a faint smile appeared on his face. His honor had been avenged.
"Yes, he's dead… But Leyla took care of him, not me." Akram replied.
"Leyla," he said, turning toward the young Vulkan, "we're going to use persuasion on the rest of their troops. You know what I mean?"
She looked at him, confused at first, then raised an eyebrow, seeming to understand where he was going.
Akram nodded, then turned back to the Vulkan who had warned him.
"Open the doors." he said firmly.
"W-What…?"
"Open the doors. Now."
***
The sun was beginning to rise over Vulkania.
The sand bandits, still locked in battle with the remaining Vulkan forces, stopped when they saw the door open on its own.
"Uh? What's this? Did Kravash and the others get them?!" one of them said.
Akram stepped toward the entrance, sharp gaze, standing tall.
"You are allowed to flee. Never come back here. Vulkania will destroy you." he said without hesitation.
The bandits looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.
"Who do you think you're scaring, skinny bastard? I'll gut you starting with your balls!!" one of them shouted.
Akram let out a short laugh, then turned around.
He stepped aside, letting Leyla emerge from the shadows.
Every single bandit stopped laughing. Silence fell instantly. Not a sound came from them anymore—except the noise of swallowed saliva.
Because standing before them was Leyla, holding the freshly severed head of their leader, Kravash, along with his testicles, stuffed into his own mouth.
Leyla raised her trophy proudly, filled with determination.
The remaining Vulkans gathered behind her, smiles on their faces, pride burning in their eyes.
The sand bandits, known for their fearlessness, felt a terror many of them had never experienced before.
Their leader. Undefeated. A true terror. A legend of the sands. Reduced to this. A head and a pair of balls.
That was enough.
They turned around and fled, broken. Their fighting spirit completely crushed, they were nothing but shells.
After a few seconds of silence, screams and cheers finally erupted. After days of agony and suffering, Vulkania was finally free again.
Akram allowed himself to smile too. To be happy.
His heart stopped racing for the first time in days. His muscles loosened, his face no longer so tense.
At least, until the question he dreaded most was asked.
A question he did not want to answer, not because he lacked the courage. But because he was terribly ashamed, so ashamed that he would be ready to cut his own belly open the second he answered it.
"Where is Kra?" Leyla said.