"One thousand years ago, a cataclysmic war between the many races of Takera and the Void's Demons raged to no known end: Humans, Demi-Humans, Fae, Ruo, and whatever other pitiful excuses of a people combined arms to destroy these wretched beings and set our glorious world free."

"Like I didn't know that already! Nobody asked for a history lesson!" Kyoya snapped.

Smoldering heat had scorched his voice to a rasp, surrounding blazes showing no sign of relent. As much as the burning stung, the chorus of chaos erupting from the city below them tore yet deeper. Establishments standing for years razed to rubble, families being whisked away right before his eyes. The boy was pinned under iron greaves against the castle's stone balcony, forced to watch as the only thing he was ever meant to protect was mercilessly laid to waste.

He could hear it. Every manner of citizen was in peril. There was no discrimination of rank or place -- all were fair game for annihilation. Kyoya mustered it to lift his chest an inch, only to be smashed back down to rugged stone once more.

"The fires of excellence will burn through the weak, boy... Even if unorthodox in execution, the result will be no different. Teleo has long since awaited it's former glory, those days of prosperity following the Great Schism..." The man paused, kneeling and forcing coughs with even more pressure on Kyoya's back. As he sputtered for air, his aggressor continued. "...So, let these last breaths allow you to finally see, Kyoya. By cleansing our kingdom with this great, holy fire, we clear the path to be truly powerful. Those unfit will be purged, and the worthy will prosper!"

Even pinned underfoot, approaching his final breath, the boy wouldn't let a retort go unsaid. Above roars, screams, cannon fire, all manner of chaos, he spoke.

"You talk pretty big for the one that summoned Demons... You VC goons really are a joke. It's even a little funny, especially when the one in that big, shiny armor's only an Advisor..." Kyoya had no care for any more pleasantries, particularly fighting for a breath that wasn't even guaranteed. If his last were to come, he could be satisfied, now.

The pressure on his back began to lessen until he found himself nearly able to stand, hearing the heavy metal armor pacing. Wavering in stance, the boy stumbled as he spoke further. "And here I was, ready for you to put up a fight."

"A fight? You tried that moments ago..."

The oppressor raised a contempt brow. "...don't think that I'd changed my mind."

Just as quickly as Kyoya talked, his neck was in a vice grip, being held several feet above the ground. "You showed promise, Kyoya. You'd have made a fine Vermillion Contingent, perhaps even surpassed that of your late sibling. Quite the shame, but a sacrifice that must be made nonetheless."

The evening sky had long since been set ablaze in mortifying shades of raging orange and ghastly violet, but not even that could compare to the deranged fury that shot into the boy's eyes.

"IT WAS YOU!? OBERON!" Kyoya snarled, viciously clawing at the man's armored gauntlets, fighting fruitlessly against his hold. This fury gave him the strength to pry open a finger or two, making Oberon's eyes widen briefly. The look of surprise was unmistakable, but it wasn't as though this were any monumental victory. That look left before his hand clamped back down.

Even like this, cornered without the slightest glimmer of hope, the fight in him prevailed unbroken.

"Yes, Kyoya. Albeit unfortunate, she met her fate at my spear just as you will follow. The both of you showed incredible potential... But your difference in methods would have proven problematic in the future. Let it be known that, as a man of honor, I hold nothing against your ideals: they simply cannot coexist with the people's."

"WHAT'S SO HONORABLE ABOUT THROWING YOUR KINGDOM INTO A WAR FOR YOUR OWN TWISTED FANTASY!?" No matter how savagely he struggled, the man's iron grasp remained unrelenting.

"No need for resistance, boy; you burned away what little remained of your magic long ago. This dream is not twisted, nor a fantasy: if we should ever hope to survive the next coming of the Great Schism, we will need power... Great power... Strength so unbelievably immaculate that none would ever so much as think to challenge us! And the only way will be to dispose of those that believe otherwise."

Taking another look around to observe the carnage instilled in betrayal, the man finally glared at Kyoya's face, meeting his eyes. "Have you anything left to say?"

The waterworks came faster than expected. It was a mere sniffle at first, but quickly progressed into an outright, tearful lament. "Look at you, now. I was right to think you'd lost your edge."

"We were right to be suspicious, then... Sera had always been wondering just what you were about, and I should have done more to help her!" The boy's fighting continued, his aggressor's grip growing tighter.

"Bite your tongue! You know the same as I do that nothing in this world is permanent! I'd expect you of all people to understand my ideal, to follow and succeed where I had failed! But no, you two defied it! I had hoped so strongly that we would be able to go into this new era without blood..."

Oberon's vice seemed to hardly noticeably falter, and a gleam in the corner of his eyes suggested Kyoya's only chance of survival. "But, it is apparent to me now that it was never meant to be." That glimmer of hope was extinguished in an instant, as the man walked forward until he was holding his prey over the balcony's lip.

"O-...ber-...on..." Kyoya tried helplessly one last time, but all he did was force up a demented laugh.

A burning sensation crept up the boy's throat as they approached the edge, his hands finally able to establish a grip on his opponent's solid-iron gauntlets. With the opportunity granted by his captor's pause in response, Kyoya knew well of his only shot to escape a certain end.

With this chance, he roared a final challenge to the lady Fate: she who commanded all things within this world.

"IS THIS IT!? EVERYTHING I'VE EVER DONE, YOU'RE REALLY GONNA LET IT ALL END HERE!?" In a frenzied rage, Kyoya threw his head back and channeled the last cinders of magic left in him straight to his face, an azure flame billowing from either side of his mouth. Against Oberon's thrashing, he bit down and seared straight through the gauntlet's left index, feeling a piece of a tooth break away after ripping into tempered metal.

Oberon recoiled and dropped his target, giving time for the boy to revel in the results of this newfound fury.

He'd cleaved through the gauntlet's steel entirely.

A pungent, metallic after-taste remained from both the injury of his own mouth and his enemy's severed index finger, now lying limp at the stone before them. Kyoya's legs were already crumbling.

The man clutched his left hand in angst-ridden disbelief, eyes darting from the once helpless prey, then to what remained of the finger, torn from the base. A maniacal shine began to arise in his stare.

"A mere child, festering such unbound ferocity... Even on the brink of extinction, I'd expect that you would simply relent, but bested I stand..." He shook the blood from his left hand, instead using his right to kneel in front of Kyoya, who now tried meekly to hold himself up from the knees.

Oberon lifted the boy's chin, completely ignoring the dying wisps of fire that slowly fizzled out from between his gnashing teeth. "Your exploits, at least up until now, will be remembered. What you've done for Teleo was without doubt beneficial to my plans, so, I thank you."

Kyoya didn't speak a word, finally falling forward.

The stone was cold, cracked, tenderly caressing the pieces of his battered body that embraced it. That cooling feeling was the perfect lull to the screaming blazes that paid them audience.

"A second, most-humble thanks for taking the blame of calling forth Greater Demons in an attempt to usurp his highness... If not me, let it be the Denizen himself who teaches you just what necessitates strength..."

He nodded, frowning with indifference as a simple nudge of his foot rolled Kyoya off the balcony's edge. "...Yours, truly."

Kyoya fell, the only thing he could see being Oberon turning back to the castle without further word. There was no screaming, no grasping at air, nothing to suggest any semblance of a connection between this and the comical experience of falling depicted in the stories he'd been told as a child. It was just hundreds of feet plummeted in seconds, until everything faded to black.