There was coldness in the eyes of Cain and Azazel as they regarded one another. Neither spoke, yet the silence between them throbbed with pure killing intent. Their power had risen over the years, but still neither could claim a decisive edge. If anything, their mutual growth and the development of their regenerating abilities had only clarified the truth: there would be no easy victor.
Even should one of them manage to end the other's life, it would be through extreme sacrifice, leaving wounds so grievous that survival afterward would be unlikely. A single misstep, a single lapse into coma or weakness, would be fatal in a world like the Everstreif Empyrean. Without a loyal force to guard their broken body, nothing would stop the other superpowers from seizing the opportunity to strike them down.
