Phase 1: No Weapons — The Clash of Titans
The battlefield trembled.
The skies bled red.
All around them, the broken earth burned with the fires of fallen armies.
And there they stood — two legends.
Chris Redfield — old, scarred, carrying the memory of a thousand wars.
Veyra — the Hollow Queen, her beauty twisted by power, her eyes glinting with cruel intelligence.
Chris tossed aside his ruined rifle.
Veyra laughed — a cruel, melodic sound.
> "Old man," she said, flexing her fingers, "Let's see how much of a legend you really are."
They charged — bare fists, raw strength.
Chris moved like a force of nature, his blows thundering against Veyra's hardened form.
Veyra answered with terrifying speed, her strikes laced with Hollowborn force.
Fists met flesh.
Bones cracked.
Blood painted the broken stones.
Every punch was a memory — of comrades lost, of the world that once was.
Chris growled low, wiping blood from his lip.
> "I'm not dead yet."
---
Phase 2: Veyra's Unique Weapon Unleashed
Suddenly — Veyra stepped back, smiling.
Her hand twisted in the air — a swirl of darkness and molten light forming in her palm.
From the shadows she conjured her weapon:
A glaive — elegant, blackened, edged with shimmering silver energy that whispered hunger.
> "Playtime's over," Veyra whispered.
She lunged.
Chris dodged, barely.
The glaive sang through the air, cleaving craters in the earth.
Every swing forced Chris on the defensive, pushing his battered body to the limits.
Chris, unarmed, grabbed broken rebar from the ground and fought back — improvising brutal counters.
Metal sparked against the glaive.
The impact of their blows sent shockwaves across the battlefield.
Chris used pure tactics — luring Veyra into broken terrain, baiting her into reckless swings.
But even so — her power was overwhelming, her speed monstrous.
Still, Chris stood.
Still, Chris fought.
---
Phase 3: Veyra's Armor Gown
Veyra snarled, frustrated.
> "You stubborn relic."
With a scream that split the air, she summoned her true armor —
A gown of living black armor flowed over her, pulsating with veins of crimson energy.
Spikes, barbs, and shimmering plates formed a war-dress fit for a death goddess.
Now she was unstoppable.
Her strikes gained ferocity.
The air itself twisted around her movements.
Chris fought desperately — rolling, dodging, weaving in and out of deadly arcs.
Bruised, bleeding, barely breathing — but alive.
Veyra knocked him down, standing over him, her glaive raised for the kill.
> "Time to fade into memory."
---
Phase 4: The Spear of Genesis
Suddenly—
A flash of light.
A familiar voice screaming through the chaos.
> "Chris!!"
Kaela, bloodied but unbroken, sprinted across the battlefield — carrying something sacred:
The Spear of Genesis — the very weapon that once felled the Hollowborn King.
She threw it with everything she had.
Chris caught it mid-roll —
The moment his hand touched the spear, it blazed with new life.
The spear wasn't just a weapon —
It was the hope, the pain, the sacrifices of everyone who had fought before.
Chris stood up slowly, spear in hand, golden energy burning from the tip.
> "You're not killing me today, you monster."
Veyra smiled — a wicked, excited smile.
> "Finally... a real fight."
They charged.
The world seemed to shatter around them.
Spear clashed with glaive —
Light against darkness —
Ancient against new —
The echoes of the entire war screaming through every blow.
Chris fought with everything he had left —
With the memories of Echo, of Leon, of Reis, of all the fallen —
While Kaela and the surviving soldiers watched in awe, hoping, praying, knowing this was the final gamble.