The last guardian: Rise of Ethan Wilson

[LEVEL 75 REACHED]

Interdimensional Access Unlocked

Mission: Protect the Remnants of Sector 9-A (Virelia) from Shadow Born Incursion

Objective: Eliminate Shadow Commander "Sykir"

Reward: 20,000 XP | Dimensional Stabilization Key

Rick kicked the cathedral doors open so hard they nearly came off the hinges. His lab coat trailed behind him like the tattered flag of a dying empire, and in his hands, he held the future—Ethan's first mission alert.

"Holy sht. It's happening! Kid's first fcking mission!" he barked, eyes gleaming with both pride and a deep, barely masked fear. "Don't die. Seriously. I'm not raising another emo celestial."

Ethan stood in the shadows, fully geared—his black armor gleaming faintly under the fractured moonlight streaming through the broken stained glass. His forged blade rested across his back like a burden only he could carry. His eyes… had grown cold.

The system pulsed beside him.

"I'm ready," Ethan said quietly, steadying his breath.

Rick tossed him a black, pulsing sphere that vibrated with dimensional energy.

"Welcome to Virelia. Think Mad Max got blackout drunk in a demon apocalypse. Whole place is crawling with shadowy a**holes. You kill their commander, you save a timeline. Easy."

From the shadows, Morty peeked out behind a broken pew.

"Why do all your missions sound like suicide notes, Rick?"

Ethan closed his eyes for half a second. Then:

"Open the gate."

Natalie stood just outside the cathedral, her arms wrapped around her waist to keep warm. She'd been waiting for hours—watching as light flickered inside, shadows passed by windows, and the strange boy she couldn't understand got stranger by the day.

Then, it happened.

A tear in reality opened. A glowing portal, humming like the voice of a dying star.

She saw him.

Ethan. Walking into it. Alone.

Every part of her screamed Don't.

But her heart screamed louder.

She ran.

Her breath caught, her chest burned—but she dove into the light just as the portal sealed shut.

Hell had a name—and it was Virelia.

The sky was bleeding. Literally. Crimson clouds dripped onto broken towers that floated midair like cursed ruins. The sun was wrong—cracked and pulsing like an open wound, casting distorted shadows across the ground.

Ethan emerged atop a shattered clock tower. His feet hit stone—and the cries of the innocent reached his ears like knives.

Everywhere, Shadow Borns prowled—humanoid, half-melted monsters with hollow skulls and limbs like blades. They tore through the remnants of shelters. Children screamed. Women sobbed. Men bled.

Ethan's breath hitched.

This wasn't a battlefield.

This was a graveyard waiting to be filled.

[Mission Start]

Target Located: Shadow Commander Sykir – Sector 14C

He drew his blade.

His jaw tightened.

His heart beat against his ribs like a war drum.

"Time to work."

Ethan moved like silence incarnate—slipping between burning buildings and collapsed temples, each step deliberate, each breath calculated.

Every Shadow Born that crossed his path was reduced to smoke in seconds. His blade never missed. His mind never wavered.

But his soul trembled.

They didn't scream when they died.

They didn't cry.

They simply vanished—like they'd never existed.

Each one erased felt like erasing a piece of himself.

Still, he pressed forward.

By nightfall, Sector 14C came into view—a ruined plaza engulfed in black mist.

There, standing amid warped flames and tethered prisoners, was Sykir.

The commander was monstrous—twelve feet tall, with four arms ending in jagged bone-blades. Its body pulsed like molten obsidian. Its stitched-shut eyes turned toward Ethan.

"Another flame to extinguish…" it growled, voice like gravel soaked in blood.

Ethan stepped forward.

"Try me."

The two forces collided—steel against bone, fury against entropy.

Sykir roared, and its blade carved through the ground like butter. Ethan parried, deflected, rolled. The shockwaves from their clash cracked buildings, shattered statues, tore the air itself.

He was fast.

But Sykir was ancient.

And cruel.

One of its arms caught him mid-spin—slamming a bone-blade straight into his side.

Ethan screamed—blood erupting from his mouth.

[HP: 18%]

He staggered.

The system's voice rang out, distant and urgent.

[System Suggestion: Engage Divine Focus Mode?]

Ethan's grip tightened.

"Yes."

His veins ignited with golden light. His blade surged with celestial flame.

He lunged—faster, harder. Every swing was vengeance, every strike was a vow.

But then—

A voice.

"N-No…"

On a rooftop nearby, Natalie watched it all unfold—eyes wide, lips trembling.

She had no armor. No powers. Just a heart too stubborn to leave him alone.

And then… she saw him fall.

She screamed. "ETHAN!"

Sykir heard.

It turned—and launched a bone-spear straight toward her.

She was frozen.

And then—Ethan moved.

Faster than she'd ever seen. He dove between the spear and her body—

And took the full force into his shoulder.

He hit the ground hard—blood splattering across stone.

Natalie dropped beside him, sobbing. "Why did you do that?! Why did you come for me?!"

His voice, cracked and pained:

"Why did you follow me?!"

"I didn't want you to die alone!"

Sykir towered above them, blade raised.

Ethan's vision swam in red. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

He felt Natalie's arms wrapped around his broken frame. Felt her tears soaking into his skin.

The system screamed.

[WARNING: FATAL DAMAGE IMMINENT]

[EMOTION SPIKE DETECTED – UNLOCKING: CELESTIAL TRANSFORMATION – TIER 1]

[Emergency Overdrive: ACTIVATED]

Time stopped.

Then—light.

Unholy, beautiful, divine light exploded from Ethan's body, pushing back the dark in all directions.

He rose.

Not carried. Not dragged.

But lifted—by the system, by rage, by love, by purpose.

Golden fire licked across his shoulders. Wings made of stardust erupted from his back. His eyes became twin novas.

Even Sykir hesitated.

"You hurt her," Ethan said, voice like a thunderstorm. "You hurt them. That was your last mistake."

The battle that followed was unlike anything Virelia had ever witnessed.

Ethan fought like a god reborn.

His blade didn't cut—it unmade.

Every slash carved through space itself.

Every motion was poetry and punishment.

Sykir stood no chance.

Piece by piece, the Shadow Commander was unraveled.

Its scream echoed through dimensions as it disintegrated into ash.

[Mission Complete]

[XP Gained: 20,000]

[Level 100 Achieved]

[New Rank: Interdimensional Guardian – Tier I]

Victory.

But it didn't feel like one.

Because behind the battle, one of the prisoners—a boy—had died.

Too late.

Too slow.

Ethan dropped to his knees beside the pile of ash where the boy had been.

His sword clattered beside him.

He had won.

And yet… he had failed.

"I was too late…" he whispered.

Natalie knelt beside him, silent, tears in her eyes.

Neither of them moved for a long time.

They returned through the portal in silence.

Natalie's hand never left his.

The cathedral was dark when they arrived. Rick stood waiting with two beers in one hand, a blunt in the other, and a look in his eyes that wasn't sarcasm. Just... understanding.

He saw the blood. The empty eyes.

He didn't speak.

Ethan stepped through the rubble of the entrance. He looked at Rick.

And his voice cracked like glass.

"I wasn't fast enough."

Rick nodded—quietly.

"You will be."

Ethan turned to Natalie.

His voice trembled.

"I'm sorry you got hurt."

She didn't flinch.

Instead, she stepped forward, touched his face.

"I'm not. Because I saw who you really are."