The suns met, and for a brief moment, all everyone could see was blinding scarlet.
As the light dimmed and vanished, the furry creature shook off its shock and clapped.
"Team Baron Nerrot failed to land a hit. Team God Atticus successfully defended. Still zero strikes for Baron Nerrot."
"Team God Atticus, are you ready for your last turn?"
"Yes," Ozeroth's response came immediately.
"Begin."
A moment later, the same shifting ball formed in front of Ozeroth before shooting forwards with blinding speed.
Despite the incoming attack, Nerrot's eyes stared at empty space, lost. Jargon forcefully snapped out of his reverie and tried to replicate the art.
Again, he failed.
The ball struck Nerrot's face, jerking his head back. Now, with blue paint mixing with yellow and red, Nerrot's face was drenched in paint. He looked like a clown, one going through a midlife crisis.
"Team God Atticus succeeded in landing a hit. Team Baron Nerrot failed to defend. Three strikes for God Atticus."
