Yorktun

Months Later, in Yorkton

The streets of Yorktun were no longer bathed in propaganda or patrolled by Wardens. The shattered skyline, dotted with burned-out buildings, whispered stories of a city learning to breathe again. The people walked carefully, afraid the fragile peace might break under their weight.

Marten sat at a worn wooden table in a small apartment on the city's outskirts. His hands trembled as he poured tea into two chipped cups. Across from him, his wife, Selina, cradled their daughter, Leyna, in her arms. The little girl giggled, her laughter a sound Marten had dreamed about for years.

Selina (softly):

"You don't have to keep looking at us like we're going to vanish."

Marten's lips quivered as he tried to respond, but his voice caught in his throat. He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from Leyna's face. She smiled at him, her eyes wide and full of innocence.

Marten (whispering):

"I thought I'd never see you again."

Selina placed her hand over his.

Selina:

"You brought us back. You gave us this second chance."

But Marten didn't feel like a hero. His mind replayed the horrors of the rebellion-the faces of friends lost, the screams of those who couldn't be saved.

Later that night, while his wife and daughter slept, Marten stood by the window, staring at the flickering lights of a city struggling to rebuild.

Marten (to himself):

"Was it enough, Retsuki? Did we do enough?"

He thought he could hear the faint crackle of electricity in the air, but when he turned, the room was silent.

Far from the city center, in the ruins of a once-grand library, Alitha sat alone. She cradled a small fragment of glowing light-the last essence of Retsuki-in her hands. The glow pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.

Alitha:

"You stubborn idiot. You left me here with nothing but this."

Her voice cracked, and tears slipped down her cheeks. The library was cold and silent, the only warmth coming from the fragment. She spent her days wandering the ruins, speaking to the light as if Retsuki could hear her.

Alitha:

"They say we won, you know. That Yorktun's free now. But it doesn't feel like it. Not without you."

The fragment flickered, almost as if responding. Alitha smiled weakly.

Alitha:

"I should hate you for leaving me. But I don't. You gave everything for this city, for us. I just... I wish I could have saved you too."

Dreams of the past plagued her nights. She would see Retsuki standing in the ruins, his electric form flickering, his eyes filled with determination. She would reach out to him, but he would dissolve into sparks before her fingers could touch him.

She often woke up crying, clutching the fragment close to her chest.

In the heart of Yorktun, a new mural was painted on the side of a crumbling building. Verena stood before it, her hands covered in paint. The mural depicted a towering figure made of light, surrounded by faceless silhouettes reaching out to him.

Passersby stopped to watch, their eyes wide with wonder.

Child (pointing):

"Is that Retsuki?"

Verena turned, smiling gently.

Verena:

"It's all of us. It's what we can be."

Her art had become the voice of the revolution. Her pieces, scattered across Yorktun, told the story of their struggle and hope. But every brushstroke was a reminder of what they had lost.

When the city quieted at night, Verena would sit in her studio, staring at an old sketch she had made of Retsuki.

Verena (whispering):

"You deserved better. You all did."

In the depths of Hell, Retsuki sat on his throne. The chamber was silent now, the faces of the damned watching him from the shadows. He had grown accustomed to their stares, their whispers of blame and despair.

The essence of the Seven Deadly Sins swirled around him, but he kept it at bay, refusing to let it consume him.

Retsuki (to himself):

"I saved them. I saved Yorktun. But I'm still here. Maybe this is where I belong."

A shadowy figure appeared before him-a woman with glowing eyes and a voice like silk.

Woman:

"You sit here like a martyr, but you're no saint. You're a King, Retsuki. And kings don't wallow in self-pity."

Retsuki:

"Who are you?"

Woman:

"A friend. Or an enemy. It depends on what you choose to do next."

She leaned closer, her voice a whisper.

Woman:

"Did you think Hell was the end? That this was your punishment? No, Retsuki. This is just the beginning."

Far above, a council convened in a realm of light and endless skies. They watched Retsuki through a shimmering portal, their expressions unreadable.

Ethereal Voice:

"He sits on the throne, but he does not rule. He resists."

Another Voice:

"And yet, he carries the sins within him. He is both a savior and a sinner. A paradox."

Third Voice:

"Shall we intervene?"

A moment of silence passed.

First Voice:

"Not yet. Let him prove himself. Let him show us what a King of Hell can become."

The portal closed, and the council dissolved into light.

In the ruins of Yorktun, Alitha sat by the library window, the fragment of Retsuki's essence glowing faintly in her hands.

Alitha:

"Where are you, Retsuki? Are you still fighting, even now?"

The fragment pulsed once, brighter than before. For the first time in months, Alitha smiled.

Alitha:

"Keep fighting, you idiot. We're not done yet."

The glow lingered a tiny spark of hope in a city still healing.