No words were spoken. No battle cries echoed across the golden plains. The time for speeches had ended.
Adam struck first.
Wings unfolded from his back as he launched himself skyward, plasma blade carving an arc of destruction through the air. Chaotic flames wreathed his form like living shadow, and he blinked out of existence for a heartbeat before materialising directly above Marduk's transformed figure.
The god moved with brutal efficiency. One hand swept upward, deflecting Adam's blade with a gauntlet that blazed with accumulated divine might. The impact sent shockwaves rippling across the ziggurat, cracking golden stones that had stood for millennia.
Adam blinked again, reappearing to Marduk's left, his second blade materialising in his free hand. Both weapons struck simultaneously—one high, one low—but Marduk twisted with inhuman speed, allowing the attacks to pass harmlessly through empty air.
"Too slow," the god rumbled, his fist driving toward Adam's chest.
