...Father Black took a calm step forward, and like mist in morning light, his form passed seamlessly through the walls of the command center—neither phasing them nor distorting space around him. It was as though reality itself bowed to his presence, allowing him to step into the vacuum of space unchallenged, untouched.
By now, the battle was over. Perseus and Crusher floated in the glittering void, bruised, scorched, and yet—laughing heartily like old friends reunited over wine, except it was with their fists.
Crusher's war hammer still crackled faintly with residual energy, and despite its terrifying size, it rested comfortably on his back now.
Perseus chuckled, patting Crusher's shoulder. "That hammer of yours… that's no toy. I swear it cracked my bones."
Crusher smirked, flexing one arm as thick as a space cannon. "And your demon rank? Tch. I almost thought you'd killed me for real back there. You've grown strong. Without this hammer… I doubt I could've kept up."
