The last guardian: Rise of Ethan Wilson

In a realm abandoned by light, where stars had long surrendered to silence, she opened her eyes.

Serena.

The Void Flame.

She stood at the edge of a sea made of dying suns—black water burning with embers of forgotten galaxies. The air itself wept cinders. The sky above her trembled under the weight of her mere presence.

Her skin glowed like slow-burning coal—beautiful, dangerous, almost divine. Her hair danced like smoke, endlessly swirling, bound by no wind. And her eyes… her eyes were black wells that pulled at truth, hope, and memory alike.

She stepped forward, bare feet kissing the surface of dead starlight.

Her voice broke the silence—soft, bitter, prophetic:

"He's begun to shine."

From beneath her feet, a spiral of fire rose. It didn't consume her—it crowned her. A reversed halo made of pain and promise.

Target: Ethan Wilson

Status: Interdimensional Guardian – Tier I

Phase Directive: Test His Hope. Break It.

She vanished—consumed by fire.

Earth shuddered.

It started with heat.

Not warmth.

Not sunlight.

Suffocating, suffusing, death-laced heat.

In the small city of Crossfield, the morning buzz was silenced in seconds.

Phones sparked in palms. Screens burst into glass. Car engines caught fire. Power grids melted. Drones dropped from the sky like mechanical birds losing faith.

Then the sky changed.

Clouds caught flame—yes, flame—spreading like ink across parchment. The air grew thick, dry. The ozone itself screamed.

In the chaos, Ethan stood on the school rooftop, trying to breathe. His instincts rang louder than alarms. His body felt pressure from nowhere—like something impossibly massive had stepped into reality.

Then a whisper crept into his mind, not through the system, not through telepathy—something darker.

"I'm coming, little spark."

[DANGER CLASS: SSS-RANK DETECTED]

[Name: Serena the Void Flame]

[Objective: Extinguish Hope]

Rick's voice blared through his earpiece, panic thick behind the sarcasm:

"Kid, bad news! Giant flaming chick just breached Earth's exo-barrier like a damn solar nuke. She's got a heat signature that's cooking my alcohol reserves from space!"

In the background, Morty shrieked, "RICK, THE LAB'S ON FIRE AGAIN!"

But Ethan didn't laugh.

Because his heart had already sunk.

"…Natalie."

Natalie Longmen had just stepped out of school, arms full of books and thoughts.

She'd been thinking about Ethan—again.

How his eyes always looked like he was somewhere else. How the air around him sometimes shimmered when no one else noticed. How something in her gut screamed he's different, and something in her heart whispered and that's why you care.

Then the sky turned red.

People screamed. Asphalt cracked. Air conditioners exploded in windows. The ground rumbled with distant thunder.

And then—

She saw her.

Floating above the wreckage like a forgotten goddess.

Serena.

Barefoot. Hair flowing like death's breath. Flame trailing down her robe like sorrow in physical form.

Natalie froze.

Serena's gaze found her.

And for a second, the world stopped burning around Natalie—because Serena spared her.

The fire parted for her. Flames bent away.

Serena descended like a whisper.

"You're close to him," she said, her voice as gentle as it was final.

Natalie couldn't speak.

Serena smiled—softly, almost sadly.

"Tell me, child. What does he fight for?"

Natalie swallowed, trembling. Her voice barely made it out.

"H–Hope."

Serena's expression cracked. Not with cruelty—but with something that looked like memory. Grief.

Then she whispered:

"Then let me show you what it feels like when it dies."

She raised her hand.

The sky behind her ignited.

The world cracked.

And Ethan dropped from it—like judgment given form.

He slammed into the ground between Serena and Natalie, golden wings of energy slicing the smoke behind him. His boots left twin craters where he landed.

His blade was out, glowing with righteous fury.

"Get away from her."

Serena turned, and her smile deepened—fond, even.

"Well. The last flame breathes."

Ethan stepped forward, standing between Natalie and death.

His aura pulsed erratically—equal parts fear, fury, and grief.

"Serena the Void Flame," he said. "I read about you in the system archives."

She floated toward him, voice drifting like ash. "And I've turned heroes brighter than you into dust. You're brave. But you burn too hot. Too fast."

Then the air shattered.

She attacked.

It was not a battle.

It was a lesson in hopelessness.

Serena didn't just fight—she unmade.

Her flames twisted around Ethan's blade, draining color from the world. Her touch didn't scorch skin—it devoured will.

Every block drained him.

Every strike dimmed his light.

And as they clashed, she whispered to him:

"Why do you fight?"

CLANG.

"You failed that boy in Virelia."

BOOM.

"You won't protect her either."

CRACK.

Ethan's knees hit the ground.

His sword, once glowing like a sun, flickered.

Serena landed gently. She knelt before him.

Took his chin in her hand.

Her voice was tender, and it hurt more than a scream.

"You still think this world is worth saving?"

Tears leaked down Ethan's cheek.

Not from pain.

Not even fear.

From doubt.

"…Yes," he whispered.

From behind Serena, Natalie saw Ethan fall.

She saw his tears.

And something inside her snapped.

She wasn't a warrior. She wasn't chosen. She had no system. No blade. No wings.

But she had him.

And he needed her.

She stepped forward.

"HE'S NOT ALONE!"

Serena turned—truly surprised.

Natalie stood shaking, fists clenched, eyes burning with something not afraid.

"I believe in him. I've seen what he fights. What he's lost. You can burn cities and gods and worlds—but I still believe in him."

For a heartbeat, silence.

And in Serena's face—something shifted.

A memory. A time before Pain. A time before fire.

A student.

A girl full of questions. Of light.

Her flame trembled.

And in that crack—

Ethan surged.

His blade pierced through Serena's shoulder—light erupting in every direction.

She didn't scream.

But her eyes widened in silent devastation.

Flames roared around her. Her body rippled with power, trying to reassert itself. But it was too late.

She staggered back.

Then vanished in a spiral of fire and smoke.

[BATTLE RESULT: INCOMPLETE VICTORY]

[ENEMY RETREATED – RESIDUAL FLAME SIGNATURES DETECTED IN LOWER ORBIT]

[NEW TRANSFORMATION XP: 34% toward Celestial Tier 2]

The air went still.

Ethan collapsed beside Natalie.

She caught him before he hit the ground.

They didn't speak.

They just listened to the fire… die.

Far across dimensions, beyond logic and light, Pain sat upon a throne of fractured halos and dying stars.

In the center of his seeing pool, the final image of Serena flickered.

She knelt before him now—wounded, quiet.

"I failed."

Pain didn't speak right away.

He just closed his eyes.

And smiled.

"You did more than enough."

He stood.

And the stars behind him trembled.

"He has begun to believe."

His smile deepened into prophecy.

"Now... the real suffering begins."