Now it was Nero’s turn.
He closed his eyes, drawing in a slow, steady breath. The air trembled faintly around him as his prana surged forth, flowing like molten rivers through his veins. With a sudden release, it erupted outward—flas blossoming behind his back, weaving themselves into the shape of wings.
They were not the sa as the ones he had conjured back in the pocket world. These were fuller, sharper, alive with a brilliance that betrayed his recent growth. Each fiery plu shimred with gradients of red, gold, and hints of deep crimson, like molten tal caught between forging and fla. When the wings spread wide, they crackled with energy, leaving embers drifting lazily through the night air.
Khione’s ice-blue eyes lingered on them longer than she expected, and though her expression remained calm, there was the faintest flicker of recognition—he was no longer the sa boy who had stood beside her then.
Nero reached into his pocket and pressed his thumb against the second golden token. At his touch, the emblem carved into its surface flared, and when he poured his prana into it, the token awakened fully. A golden light burst forth, spilling across his body before wrapping him in a protective aura. The glow lded seamlessly with his wings, gilding their fiery edges in radiant brilliance.
The result was breathtaking—flas wrapped in gold, a sovereign blaze that seed almost divine. The aura pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, steady and strong, harmonizing perfectly with the storm of fire he had unleashed.
Nero glanced at Khione then, catching her gaze for a fleeting mont. Her frosted wings glimred with a golden sheen, his burned with gilded fire—and together, they stood like two halves of a legend waiting to take flight.
"Let’s go!" Nero declared, his voice steady yet carrying an undercurrent of excitent. With a single powerful beat of his fla-forged wings, he launched himself upward, streaking into the night sky like a cot of fire.
Khione followed without hesitation. Her crystalline wings unfurled in a dazzling arc, scattering shards of frost that sparkled like tiny diamonds under the moonlight. With a surge of prana, she shot upward after him, the air chilling in her wake.
They ascended side by side, their wings cutting through the night with astonishing speed. The ground blurred beneath them—first the villa’s courtyard, then the garden, and finally the villa itself shrank into a delicate silhouette frad by lanterns and glowing fountains. Higher still they rose until the whole of Angel’s City stretched beneath them like a dream carved into the sea.
From above, the city glead brilliantly. Countless crystal lamps lit the streets in soft silver and gold, their glow reflecting off the white stone buildings that seed to shimr under the starlight. Towering spires and cascading waterfalls caught the moon’s rays, scattering them across the island like strands of liquid light. The sea surrounding the city mirrored the spectacle, waves shimring as though the heavens themselves had descended to embrace the shore.
The wind rushed past, cool and sharp, carrying the scent of saltwater and distant flowers from the mountain gardens. The night sky above was endless, jeweled with stars, yet it was the world below—the radiant Angel’s City—that stole their breath.
For a mont, neither spoke. They simply hovered there, wings aglow, gazing down at a city that looked less like a mortal creation and more like a sanctuary built by gods.
The mont stretched, suspended in silence between them. The chill of Khione’s wings mingled with the heat of Nero’s flas, frost and fire spiraling together like twin trails painted across the velvet sky. For a while, they only hovered, drinking in the majesty of Angel’s City below and the vastness of the heavens above.
Then, without a word, Khione tilted her head, her lips tugging into the faintest of smirks. Her wings flared, scattering a gust of crystalline snow into the air. A challenge.
Nero caught it instantly. His crimson eyes glead, and before his mouth could even form words, his wings erupted in a burst of fla, propelling him forward like a streaking teor. Khione’s icy laugh followed, light and crisp, as she darted after him.
The race had begun.
---
The two shot through the night sky, fire and ice carving their paths like rival brushstrokes on an infinite canvas. Nero dove low, skimming just above the rooftops, his fiery wings setting the air aglow in warm orange hues. Windows shimred as though kissed by dawn, their glass panes reflecting his passing light. Khione swooped down behind him, frost trailing in her wake, rooftops glazing montarily in crystalline white before lting back to stone.
"Too slow," Nero called over his shoulder, voice carried by the rushing wind.
Khione narrowed her ice-blue eyes and flapped her wings once—just once—and shot forward like a silver arrow. She didn’t pass him so much as blur into existence at his side, her frost scattering in dazzling arcs that brushed against his flas. For a heartbeat, their wings clashed—fire against ice—sending a shockwave of steam spiraling around them before they both burst higher into the sky.
Now above the tallest towers, they weaved through spires and cascading waterfalls that sparkled under the moon. Khione twirled in midair, spinning like a dancer, leaving behind a ring of frost that glittered like a crown. Nero darted straight through it, flas flaring, shattering the frozen circle into shards that rained down like falling stars.
"Show-off," she murmured, though the rare warmth in her smile betrayed her enjoynt.
Nero only grinned, twisting into a sudden dive. He plumted like a teor, flas roaring, before pulling up at the last possible second, skimming over the sea that encircled the island. His fiery reflection blazed on the water’s surface, a twin cot trailing sparks.
Khione wasn’t far behind—she dipped low as well, her wings brushing the sea, freezing its rippling waves into glistening pathways of ice that shattered as Nero’s heat collided with them.
The ga had shifted from speed to creativity.
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