"I bloom amidst slaughter..."
"Amidst slaughter, I bloom..."
"Slaughter... bloom..."
Again and again, the words echoed—like the devout prayers of thousands, like a sacred hymn murmured by a solemn priest.
Words soaked in killing intent, yet inexplicably carrying an eerie tranquility capable of soothing the soul.
Astra, ever wary, lowered the heavy assault cannon from his shoulder. The Other, his cautious gaze shifting, found his mind clouded with a strange confusion. The two adversaries, who moments ago were poised to strike each other down, now stood together amidst the ruins, lost in contemplation—as if, in that chant, they had abandoned their hostilities to ponder the grand ideals of life itself. Even as the corpses of security officers lay around them, their weapons pressed against their skulls, they remained indifferent.
They had become ensnared in the vast ocean of philosophy.
"Interesting."
"Still struggling in vain, Lothar?"
Shafrin's voice was laced with amusement as he watched Lothar's face flicker with uncertainty. Raising his right hand, he gathered energy at the tip of his slender index finger. A thin beam of silver light shot forth, piercing straight into Lothar's mind.
"Give up. I will be the nightmare that never leaves you."
"Now, kneel—and swear your allegiance to your master."
The power, derived from a fragment of the Mind Stone, struck Lothar unprepared. Veins bulged across his forehead as he roared in defiance, the sheer force of his will surging outward in a shockwave at his feet, resisting Shafrin's mental domination.
"The last person who said that to me—guess what happened to her?"
Gritting his teeth against the agony drilling into his skull, Lothar straightened his back, his piercing gaze locking onto Shafrin. A familiar, defiant smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Not even his adoptive father, Thanos, had dared command him like this. And Shafrin? He was nothing.
"...What?"
Beneath the black-and-white striped mask, Shafrin's brow arched in mild surprise.
His foolproof mind control—had failed?
"She died. Reduced to nothing but ash."
Before the words had fully left his lips, Lothar's fist was already hurtling toward Shafrin's face.
Boom!
Their blows collided, and the sheer force behind Lothar's punch sent Shafrin staggering backward.
"You don't seem nearly as strong as you pretend to be."
Flexing his fingers, Lothar took a step forward—but his thoughts suddenly blurred, a stabbing sensation lancing through his mind.
"Oh?"
Sensing Lothar's hesitation, Shafrin spread his fingers wide. Ten crimson energy beams erupted from his fingertips, curving impossibly through the air before burying themselves into Lothar's body.
"Perhaps your physical strength is impressive... but brute force alone is meaningless."
Shafrin chuckled softly, his fingers twisting ever so slightly.
Lothar felt an overwhelming force crash down upon his mind, a voice whispering relentlessly in his ears—Give up. Give up. You cannot win...
"Follow the will of your own heart, and let go—"
BOOM!
Before Shafrin could finish, a thunderous explosion of energy erupted from Lothar's body. A violent cyclone of power whipped through the battlefield, scattering dust and debris—and a fine layer of dirt splattered across Shafrin's mask.
"My heart tells me—you can go to hell."
The voice came from just behind him.
Eyes widening, Shafrin barely had time to react before Lothar's leg came whipping through the air, aimed straight at his arm.
Clang!
Silver-plated battle boots smashed against golden armor, sending a piercing metallic shriek through the ruins.
The clash jolted Astra and The Other back to their senses.
"Haah!"
Shafrin caught Lothar's ankle mid-air and, without hesitation, hurled him toward the now-alert Astra and The Other.
"Prince Lothar!"
"Shut up."
Still airborne, Lothar twisted his body mid-flight, killing his momentum before landing. His right hand flared with brilliant silver light—an energy beam roaring to life and blasting toward Shafrin.
"Not bad."
Shafrin raised his hands. With a simple gesture, he sliced the air before him, carving a triangular portal in the space between them.
The triangle-shaped gateway swallowed the beam whole.
What the hell?!
Feeling his energy drain at an alarming rate, Lothar instantly ceased his attack, hovering in midair as he watched Shafrin below, arms crossed over his chest.
"But if this is all you've got, it's nowhere near enough."
A low, rasping voice sounded behind him.
Lothar turned—just in time to see a second triangular portal snap open at his back.
The energy beam he had fired moments ago came screaming out—straight toward him.
BOOM!
The silver energy blast tore through the sky above Planet U40.
Lothar's own attack had been redirected against him.
"Prince Lothar!"
Without hesitation, The Other clutched his azure scepter and rushed to Lothar's side, reaching out a hand to help him up.
"Get away from me."
Lothar stood, his silver armor now cracked and crumbling.
"But, Prince Lothar, you—"
"Leave. Now."
The chilling finality in his voice stopped The Other cold. The words caught in his throat, never to be spoken.
"You are no match for me, Lothar."
Shafrin watched, amused, flicking his cape before charging toward him once more.
"This universe is full of fools who underestimate the power of the mind. You are one of them."
"Mind control?" He laughed. "That is but the most trivial of the two thousand skills at my disposal."
Faster than the eye could follow, Shafrin's fists crashed into Lothar. One strike. Two. Three. Each blow carried devastating force, fracturing the last remnants of Lothar's silver armor.
"In my heart, my fists can shatter the stars, my steps can break the earth!"
"I believed it—and so I made it reality."
"But you? You're just another ignorant fool who doesn't know when to quit!"
With one final, thunderous punch, Shafrin sent Lothar hurtling into the ruins.
Exhaling slowly, he approached his fallen foe.
"You know," he mused, "in my eyes, you're just a child. A brat who killed a few people and got cocky enough to think he mattered."
"Did Thanos never teach you?"
"A child," Shafrin sneered, watching Lothar struggle to his feet, "should act like a child."
"Tch. Annoying."
Lothar wiped the blood from his lips, exhaling sharply as he spread his stance.
His hands hovered before his chest, fingers curled slightly.
"You're not even close."
Between his fingertips—golden sparks crackled.
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