With thunderous roars, the massive crystal branches collapse like the rigid limbs of a fallen giant, crashing down to shake the earth and send plumes of dense smoke skyward.
As the final explosives detonate, the heaven-spanning Golden Oak disintegrates, and rays of sunlight break through the shattered dome, showering down upon you.
Relentless tremors shake every fiber of your being. After wave upon wave of combat, your body has reached its breaking point, with blood seeping steadily from your mouth, nostrils, and ears.
Cascading sunlight illuminates the darkness. Crimson motes drift through the air like dancing cottonwood seeds.
As the thick smoke gradually dissipates, the main trunk of the Golden Oak remains standing despite being covered in cracks, continuing to exhale the Red Mist.
Raargh—!!
With a piercing shriek, the metal colossus lunges from the mist. Though you instinctively dodge, its iron claws still manage to strike your chest, the impact hurling you against the wall.
Crash! You gouge a meters-long trail across the ground before slamming into the stone wall. Excruciating pain erupts through you, accompanied by the sickening crunch of breaking bones.
—!!
Blood mist clouds your vision as the Corrupted howls and glints in the sunlight like a ferocious beast bathed in blood and fire.
The Corrupted raises its claws high and launches itself into the air before diving toward you like a streaking blur of cold steel from above.
You pull the trigger, and a searing projectile launches forth—
Oil gushes from the creature's shattered eye socket, raining down on your face like hot, scalding blood.
Its iron claws pierce the wall above you and swing down as it falls, carving a meters-long gash before burying themselves in your shoulder, shredding flesh and scraping against your shoulder blade.
The armor plates on your palms are on the verge of breaking, sending a numbing pain through your hands. Even the slightest movement feels as if rusty blades are twisting inside your wound, as blood continues to pump out.
Blood sprays outward as overwhelming pain nearly claims your consciousness. Time seems to stretch infinitely, so much that you can hear the sickening sound of tendons scraping against the metal blade.
Finally, as the iron claws drop to the ground, your knees buckle beneath you and slam against the floor.
RAAAARGH—!
As the smoke gradually dissipates, countless chilling stares emerge from within like vultures sizing up their prey.
Blood foam clogs your nose and mouth. It feels like thousands of razor wires are wrapped around your muscles, and the slightest movement threatens to shred your organs to bloody pulp.
But with the situation so dire... worrying about your own safety is a luxury you cannot afford.
Scalding liquid surges up from your stomach, erupting with blood as you cough violently.
You grit your teeth and clench your fists as your shattered bones emit a spine-chilling crunch.
—RAAARGH!!!
The scent of blood seems to have agitated the enemies, stirring up their predatory instincts. They paw at the ground impatiently, preparing to pounce.
In the crumbling ruins, your battered body slowly rises.
You barely manage one step before your torn tendons give way, sending your entire body pitching forward toward the ground.
Careful.
Just then, a warm force catches your falling body.
You should watch your step, [player name].
You look up to see a familiar girl holding your hand, smiling warmly.
In your dazed state, you seem to see more shadowy figures emerge slowly from the mist, taking their places beside you.
Some carry weapons, others wear hard hats. Though their faces remain unclear, there's something hauntingly familiar about them.
They are the workers and soldiers who rest eternally in this place.
Raaargh—!!
More and more of these phantoms materialize, forming a massive wall of fog that blocks the swarming Corrupted's relentless assault.
People can see what they yearn for in the mist, and so can this land.
The girl steadies your body as a cool breeze passes through, making her silver hair gently sway in the sunlight.
Carthaki was calling to us, so we came.
Or I should say... it was you, Nirvatia, and all those countless brave and kind souls whom you didn't get to meet.
She tilts her head, guiding your gaze toward the phantoms valiantly holding back the Corrupted.
The Red Mist can awaken your fear, but it can also ignite light and hope, just like... what we're witnessing now.
Strangely, the Margaret before you seems far more mature and level-headed than you remembered.
She raises her other hand, pointing toward the crumbling golden tree trunk at the center.
That's where my body slumbers... the heart of the Golden Oak.
Only by destroying it and extracting the Seedling can you stop the Red Mist from spreading further.
Even the brightest light struggles to pierce such thick storm clouds on its own.
Margaret squeezes your hand, and in that hazy moment, the pain in your palm seems to gradually fade away.
But look, they've come.
She gazes at the hazy figures battling the Corrupted, her voice soft as she explains what seems like the most obvious truth in the world.
A spark will draw more sparks, courage will inspire courage... This is how we've always persevered, generation after generation, carrying the torch.
Haven't you made it this far precisely because you were never truly alone?
With a gentle smile, she lifts her head to gaze at the vast, azure sky above.
Those who believe in you, who follow you... their light shines here too.
Listen, the wind is rising—
Air currents propel the fighter jet like invisible giant hands as it dives through the Red Mist.
The blocker mounted beside the dashboard generates a transparent barrier that perfectly encases the entire aircraft, slicing through the dense fog like a blade to carve a path forward.
Next to the blocker are several weathered sticky notes with messages like "Fly on! You're the last bullet of our home" and "Go get 'em!"—likely left behind by former ground crew.
Just a little faster...
Wincing through the searing pain of her wounds, Jagienka pushes the control stick forward, fighting against the crushing g-force of the dive as she hurtles at full speed toward the Golden Oak ahead.
—Come on! You monster!
The moment the tree trunk enters her firing range, Jagienka slams her thumb down on the trigger, pressing it with all her might—
High-caliber cannons on both wings spit tongues of flame in unison, unleashing a torrential rain of incendiary rounds that instantly ignite the exposed outer shell of the massive tree.
Almost simultaneously, a red flare launches from the ground, accompanied by a sharp crack, piercing directly into a crumbled structure at the base of the tree roots.
—!
Jagienka instantly figures out that it is almost certainly a signal from Nirvatia and the Gray Raven Commandant. She yanks the control stick and dives toward the flare's position, unleashing a ferocious barrage.
The incendiary rounds trace a whip of light through the air, repeatedly lashing against the tree's weak points. Shell casings pour like rain, showering the earth alongside fragments of the crumbling, dying trunk.
As the Golden Oak's outer shell fractures piece by piece, the golden glow at each impact point intensifies to blinding, magma-like brilliance, continuously spewing crystalline fragments.
BOOM—
A massive section of golden "bark" tears away violently, revealing the even more scorching, bright orange internal structure beneath.
It's collapsing! One more run and we'll break through!
Pull up, then push down—Jagienka guides her aircraft in a half-circle loop, positioning for one final dive to completely destroy the area marked by the flare.
—DIE!
Whirrrr—
In the next instant, the oak's gnarled branches suddenly burst apart, howling through the air like tentacles as they lash toward the aircraft—
—Aargh!!!
Her evasive maneuvers barely begin before a screech of torn metal fills the cockpit. Her head slams hard against the canopy as the entire jet lurches to the lower left, rolling like it's been struck by a giant hammer.
The overheat warning light for the left engine flashes as the hydraulic pressure gauge plummets into the red zone. In that moment, like a racehorse with severed tendons, the jet's responses become sluggish and powerless.
As she spins, Jagienka catches a glimpse of debris piercing the base of the wing, right where the ammunition compartment is located.
Come on... Pull up!
Blood streams over Jagienka's left eye as she grits her teeth through the violent turbulence and pulls the control stick back with all her strength, barely maintaining the aircraft's balance.
Suddenly, another deafening crack splits the air as massive roots launch skyward, tearing through dense smoke and lunging toward the fighter jet.
Jagienka's pupils constrict as icy dread seizes her heart. There is no escaping this time.
WHOOSH—
Right then, an entirely different sound, one that is deep, oppressive, and howling, grows louder as it approaches, cutting through the battlefield's cacophony—
Between the descending giant branch and her aircraft, a massive fireball erupts with devastating force, billowing smoke and destructive shockwaves—
—!!
Artillery shells raining from above strike the trunk dead-center, shattering the golden branches into countless fragments with a deafening blast that propels Jagienka's aircraft away from danger.
What the...?
Stunned, Jagienka looks back to trace the shell's trajectory across the battle-torn sky beyond the misty ruins to where it originated: the river bay that was the ancestral home of Carthakians.
Above the wide, raging river, Spartacus has broken free from its chains, advancing at full speed toward this land in its final battle.
Across the rust-mottled deck, shouts and work shanties intertwine, rising and falling in rhythmic waves.
Boiler 1! Power's up to 70 percent! Can you hold it together?
This heat isn't enough to cook us alive! Just keep her moving forward! We've got things under control down here!
Warped by the heat waves, the voice through the speaking tube instantly ignites more suppressed cries across the vessel like sparks thrown into hot oil.
Engine room! Status on the main shaft!
It's still turning! We're cooling it down as best we can. The old girl's breathing hard, but she's holding it together just like us!
Suddenly, a pipe near the stern lets out a piercing shriek as high-pressure steam erupts and instantly engulfs the entire section.
Without a moment's hesitation, several figures shout and charge into the deadly steam. They press soaked blankets, canvas, and even their own bodies against the roaring breach, desperately fighting to contain it.
The hissing of flesh against superheated metal is drowned out by the crew's defiant roars. The stench of burning skin fills the air, yet somehow these mortal bodies manage to suppress the screaming steam—
The main steam valve... it's moving! It's giving way!
With the crack of metal breaking, the massive wheel finally yields to the crew's flesh and blood—
Pathway's clear! Power's flowing to the main cannons!
Main battery crew! Battle stations! Target remains unchanged, bearing 2-7-0!
Commander Li's orders pound like war drums in every heart aboard.
Copy! High-explosive incendiary rounds in position! Ready to load!
Breech chamber! Shell loaded successfully! Manual lock secured!
Hydraulics in position! We'll handle the recoil from the broadside!
The colossal cannons turn with thunderous clangs as Commander Li grips the railing with clenched fist and listens to the roar of the steel beast awakening beneath him in a symphony orchestrated by mere mortals.
THROOM! A resonant clash of steel announces the main battery is locked in position.
In this final moment, he raises his arm with great resolve, channeling countless defiant gazes toward the massive tree looming beneath the heavens.
Spartacus—
FIRE!!!
The naval guns erupt with earth-shattering force, making the entire sky tremble and wail in anguish.
Amid the earth-shattering tremors, the burning colossal branches collapse and wither like an avalanche, dragging down countless interconnected layers of bark that peel away and plummet with a deafening crash.
HAAAARGH—!!!
Rotor blades cut through the mist as incendiary bombs howl through the air, raining down in relentless waves upon the marked position.
The damaged fuselage groans in protest as Jagienka shouts, slamming the button and sending her aircraft into a steep dive.
Layer upon layer of tree bark rots away under the barrage of bullets, with countless beams of light bursting through the cracks, blazing with blinding intensity.
Almost there, just a little more—
Crack—
In the next instant, the gunfire abruptly ceases, the flames extinguished.
Jagienka freezes in disbelief. Instinctively checking her dashboard, she sees the ammunition counter stuck at "29", locked in place as if welded shut. No matter how many times she pulls the trigger, nothing moves.
She glances out the window, and her suspicion is confirmed: the earlier attack has damaged her wing, causing the ammunition feed to jam.
*!
The engine wails in desperation as howling wind rushes through the cracks, while Jagienka shouts and slams her fist against the dashboard where every indicator blazes crimson.
The fading power cannot support another climb. The entire jet plummets toward the ground like a bird with broken wings, about to go out of control.
Suddenly, Jagienka notices the note pressed beneath her fist—
...
Why am I... always the one with rotten luck?
She brushes a strand of hair from her face, smiling wryly.
Gravity tears at every nerve in her body as her gaze pierces through layers of clouds toward the homeland she has never abandoned.
In her daze, Jagienka seems to return to that starry night when her friends called for her, and she stepped outside, tilting her head to gaze at the distant horizon.
Before her eyes, countless tiny lights like fireflies trailed brilliant flames, rushing like moths to a flame toward the fallen stars with unwavering resolve.
Only in this moment does she suddenly recall that on some distant summer night, she too has once reached out to touch that boundless river of stars—
Daddy! Higher! Lift me higher!
Oh my—Daddy's already on his tippy-toes! Still can't reach them?
Hmm... the stars are too far away! I can't catch them!
Looks like Daddy isn't tall enough either! Maybe you can go pick the stars yourself when you grow up?
Stars! I wanna be a pilot just like you, and I'll catch a whole basketful of stars to keep at home, to put on Mommy's head, and to share with all the other kids!
Hmm, but will all the stars have run away when I grow up?
They won't run away, Jagienka. Mommy and Daddy have seen it with our own eyes. Through wind and rain, through winter's chill and summer's heat...
Whenever you look up, the stars will be there... and so will Mommy and Daddy.
Yay! Then I need to grow up super fast, so I can...
So I can pick the stars... together with you both.
Jagienka murmurs to herself. Years of painful youth has almost made her forget that she once made such a promise while gazing at the very same sky.
She has always resisted what her heart desires most. Back then, it was a warm embrace; now, it is that "home" she both loves and hates.
Wounds never lie...
After such a long, painful journey, she finally strips away all pretenses before the mirror and confronts the bleeding wound in her heart.
You two truly were the worst parents in the world.
But I loved watching you pick stars.
Nirvatia, you've always liked to play the hero all by yourself...
She touches the bracelet on her wrist.
This time, it's my turn.
With her last ounce of strength, she tames the rocking fuselage, aiming the nose toward the nearly destroyed trunk.
Watch! Whatever you could accomplish, I can do just as well!
I can... do even better than you ever did!
She shoves the control stick forward, sending the fighter jet straight through the smoke and into the collapsing inferno.
Listen up—Punishing Virus! Monsters!
Jagienka nearly snaps the control stick as she fixes her wide eyes on the signal flare's flame and begins to scream.
This is the planet you've ravaged! These are the people you've tried to exterminate but could never wipe out!
And this...
This is our last bullet!
BOOM————
The cold wind whistles dully in her ears as thick smoke and the scent of blood nearly blind her, leaving only darkness in her vision.
Gravity vanishes. In this seemingly eternal yet infinitely brief moment that is beyond her control, time turns thick and sluggish.
Jagienka falls with her head tilted back, facing a sky so deep and dark it resembles the lonesome starry night.
This is... the end.
In her final moments, an overwhelming sense of attachment floods her heart as countless faces flash before her eyes...
But they bring neither worry nor sorrow. Instead, warmth ripples gently through her heart.
...Goodbye.
She smiles with joy and pride as she slowly closes her eyes.
BOOM—
—!
Suddenly, a dull impact strikes her back—with a force far gentler than expected, nothing like the devastating crash she has anticipated.
A powerful force begins to gather from all directions, pressing against her back, gradually lifting what should have been her shattered body.
What is this...
She looks down.
Countless transparent, luminescent hands layer upon one another, forming a spiraling stairway that stops her descent.
Some are strong and powerful, covered in scars; others are coated in ash, slender yet resolute. They belong to countless workers, farmers, soldiers...
They come from countless souls that once lived brilliantly... from all who sacrificed themselves to save others.
In her final moments, the Red Mist gradually disperses as countless golden arms converge from within. They seem to take on a life of their own,
continuously lifting Jagienka's falling body, defying death itself.
The noble souls resting here have reached across countless dimensions of time and space, raising their hands one final time to hold up the sky for their children.
Even as they shatter and fade, they stand unwavering,
manifesting from their lingering attachments and sacrificing themselves to snatch the starlight of life from death's very grasp.
Even if history repeats a million times, they would make the same choice again, marching against the tide of this era's suffering a million times over—
For they have once witnessed that radiant golden age with their own eyes.
They hold fast to their belief that even though today's world lies in ruins,
they can triumph over time and rebuild that ideal, miraculous world as long as a single breath of life remains.
It is precisely because they cherish life and understand its greatness
that they willingly sacrificed their own lives and happiness for the hope and well-being of others—
And they—the countless, innumerable "they" throughout history—are simply ordinary people who purely and earnestly loved life.
Under the ancient, desolate river of stars, no matter how painful and long the night, there will always be flames determined to crash against the darkness, igniting miracles.
<size=40>Now, the spark has been passed on.</size>
<size=40>It's time for the children to ignite new flames.</size>
—Jagienka!
A familiar voice calls out beside her ear. Jagienka suddenly snaps back to reality, instinctively reaching toward the source of the sound.
—Someone has caught her falling body.
Jagienka looks up. At the edge of the pit, you firmly grip her arms.
[player name]... What are you doing here?
...Someone?
A familiar smiling face flickers briefly beside you before retreating into the swirling mist, slowly dissipating.
[player name], Jagienka.
Go on ahead. We'll take care of things here.
Nirvatia... she needs your help.
