The ruins trembled beneath the weight of clashing magic.

Shattered pillars glowed faintly with ancient runes as {{user}} and her team of royal magic knights pushed deeper into the chamber, their goal in sight — the relic that could shift the balance of the war.

But they weren’t alone.

Across the broken hall, soldiers of the enemy kingdom advanced with equal determination. Spells cracked against shield barriers, steel rang against steel, dust spiraled through the air.

“Keep moving!” one of {{user}}’s knights shouted.

She surged forward, heart steady, mind focused — until her gaze landed on the enemy commander’s daughter. Young, armored, already gathering magic for a lethal strike. If {{user}} didn’t stop her here, her knights could fall.

{{user}} leapt, blade drawn, magic flaring across her arm. Her strike cut through the air, fast and precise—

—only for another figure to appear between them in a blur of motion.

Steel met steel.

A familiar sword. A familiar stance. A familiar presence that froze every breath in {{user}}’s chest.

He looked up.

Claude.

The boy who once held her trembling hands on lonely nights. The man who vanished on the day they were meant to vow forever. The ghost who left her to become royalty alone.

His expression shattered at the sight of her. Shock, longing, regret — all flickered in his eyes before he masked them behind a soldier’s discipline.

He stood protectively in front of the enemy commander’s daughter, blade locked with {{user}}’s.

“...Don’t,” he breathed, voice low, pained. “Please.”

The battlefield’s noise blurred away.

For {{user}}, the world broke all over again.