The storm outside New Intramuros HQ raged harder now—rivers of violet lightning cut across a sky that seemed to tremble, as though the universe itself was alive with the strain of what was to come.
Inside the makeshift command center, Rael scanned the intel on the holo-screen, his brows furrowed. "We don't have much time. The Chain Monks are closing in."
Valencia stood beside him, her stance tense. Her memories of the past—the whispers of her own fractured self—echoed in her mind.
"You've seen them before, haven't you?" Rael asked, his voice low.
Valencia didn't answer right away. Instead, her eyes locked onto the map of New Intramuros, tracing the path the monks would take to breach their defenses.
"I've fought them once," she said, her voice a mixture of cold resolve and something else—something buried deep within her that she hadn't dared to confront until now.
[Flashback – A Fallen Resistance]
The scene flickered into existence inside her mind—a dusty, war-torn alleyway in the heart of a crumbling city.
The Resistance had been her family. They had fought against the Rift's corruption, the spreading chaos of the Abyss. And for a time, they had won.
But victory was short-lived.
Valencia, younger and more idealistic, had led her squadron into a direct assault on a Rift Nexus—a place where time itself was distorted, where the Chain Monks practiced their twisted form of memory rewriting.
They were ambushed.
Chains exploded from the darkness, locking her team in place, pulling them apart, bending their minds until they no longer knew who they were. And in that chaos, Valencia had made a choice. A choice that still haunted her.
She could have saved them—fought to free them—but instead, she used her Vein to sever the bonds between them. She had to. The Nexus was too unstable. Too dangerous.
But in doing so, she had left her comrades behind. Forgotten, lost to the Rift's distortion.
And now, their faces haunted her, twisted in the nightmares that came with every sleep.
[Back in the Present – HQ]
Valencia snapped back to reality, her grip tightening on her lance. "I'm ready," she said, her voice steely.
Rael didn't respond immediately. He knew that look in her eyes. It was the same look she had when they had first met. The look of someone carrying the weight of a thousand regrets, of guilt buried so deep that it threatened to consume them whole.
"Don't carry that alone," Rael said, his voice softer now.
Valencia didn't answer, her eyes scanning the maps once more.
Outside – The Chain Monks Arrive
The air grew thick with tension as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the shattered streets of Intramuros. The Chain Monks had arrived—silent, deadly, their robes shifting like smoke, their chains clinking as they walked. Each step seemed to distort reality itself, bending time, space, and memory.
Sam stood in front of his team, his body still recovering from the mental overload of his vision with Rizal. He didn't fully understand what had happened. But one thing was clear—he was different now. He could feel it in his veins, in his very soul.
The Rift was speaking to him.
"I'll take the front," Sam said, his voice low but determined.
Rael nodded, gripping his sword tightly. "We move as one."
Valencia, silent, took her place beside Sam. She had her own demons to face, but now was not the time. The monks were here, and they needed to be stopped.
The Battle – Chain Monks vs. Team Intramuros
The Chain Monks attacked without warning.
Chains flew like whips, striking with deadly precision, wrapping around Rael's limbs. He gritted his teeth and slashed through the links with a single stroke, his body moving with fluid grace. But there were too many of them. Too many for even him to fight alone.
Valencia moved like a storm, her lance dancing in the air, sparks of wind and lightning crackling with every strike. She was a blur, faster than the monks could react, but still, they closed in. Their chains sought her out, and she could feel the weight of her past pressing against her every move.
Sam, in the midst of the chaos, felt something deep inside him stir. His Vein flared, but this time, it was different. A voice echoed in his mind—a distant memory, a forgotten call.
It wasn't just Lapu-Lapu or Bonifacio's spirits that he called upon anymore. No, this time, something darker, something more chaotic, stirred in him.
"Sam!" Rael shouted, pulling him out of his trance.
But it was too late.
A sudden surge of energy ripped through Sam's body. His Vein split. His vision doubled—two versions of himself, both struggling for control.
Echoform: Mind Split.
One version of Sam moved with controlled focus, every strike calculated. The other was raw, chaotic, like an uncontrolled explosion of power. Both Sam's were fighting the monks, and each had his own way of doing so—one relying on the calm, the other on the storm.
Rael barely dodged as Sam's chaotic form tore through the battlefield, his attacks unpredictable, breaking the chains with ease but with wild force.
Valencia caught a glimpse of him—of Sam, torn between two forces. She felt her heart tighten. This wasn't Sam anymore.
The battlefield shifted again. The monks advanced relentlessly, but now, the team fought with newfound intensity. Valencia's lance struck true, a bolt of lightning cleaving through a monk's chest. Rael's blade cut down another. But the monks just kept coming—endless, faceless, remorseless.
The Moment of Truth
Amid the chaos, Sam's two selves collided—one pulling away, the other surging forward. His body spasmed as his consciousness split. His mind screamed. His Vein—a mix of fire, wind, earth, and storm—broke free.
With a final roar, Sam released everything.
A shockwave rippled outward, destroying the monks in a circle of light and force. The battlefield fell silent for a moment.
Sam collapsed to his knees, his body wracked with exhaustion. The voices in his mind quieted.
"Sam!" Valencia rushed to his side, kneeling beside him. Rael was already scanning the battlefield for more enemies, but even he couldn't ignore the significance of what had just happened.
Sam gasped for air, his voice hoarse. "Did we… win?"
The silence was broken by a low rumble.
Something was coming.