In the Void
The endless expanse stretched infinitely in all directions—a sea of darkness untouched by time or light. There was no sky, no earth, only an abyss that swallowed all existence. Yet, within this nothingness, a single platform defied oblivion.
It was an ancient structure, its surface etched with forgotten runes that pulsed faintly, as if whispering secrets of a bygone era. The platform floated, suspended in the void, unyielding against the tides of eternity.
Upon it stood two figures, locked in a confrontation older than memory itself.
Between them, a shimmering barrier of runic script flickered weakly, its luminous glow fading with each passing second. The symbols twisted and unraveled, their power waning. Soon, the last remnants of restraint would vanish, and the battle would begin anew.
On one side stood Samuel, his presence as steady as the constellations above. He was clad in robes of silver, woven with intricate patterns of stars and crescent moons that shimmered with an otherworldly glow. The fabric seemed alive, shifting like liquid metal with every subtle movement.
His purple eyes held the weight of eons—deep, knowing, and untouched by time. They were the eyes of a man who had seen empires rise and fall, who had walked the path of gods and mortals alike.
'Another battle,' he mused inwardly. 'How many times must we repeat this dance before he understands?'
His fingers twitched slightly, the air around him humming with restrained power.
Opposite him stood Novick, a figure cloaked in darkness. His black robes were adorned with eerie crimson pupils that seemed to blink and shift, watching, waiting. The fabric itself writhed like living shadow, whispering of chaos and destruction.
His own gaze burned with defiance, a fire that refused to be extinguished.
'This time… this time will be different,' Novick thought, his jaw tightening. 'I will not lose again.'
The energy around him twisted violently, responding to his will.
The barrier flickered one last time—then shattered into motes of fading light.
Samuel exhaled, his voice calm but carrying the weight of inevitability.
"We have fought twenty-one times," he said. "Seventeen losses. Four draws. What makes you think victory will be yours now?"
Novick's lips curled into a sneer. "Because I have learned. Because I have grown stronger while you remain stagnant."
Samuel's only response was a faint, almost pitying smile.
Then—
Samuel moved first.
His body blurred as runic sigils ignited across his skin, weaving into an armor of celestial might. The plates formed seamlessly, shifting from ethereal light into solid, scaled protection—each segment humming with ancient power.
Novick reacted instantly, his own energy surging through his veins. His eyes gleamed with multicolored light, a storm of elemental fury gathering at his fingertips.
"Elemental Tempest!" he roared.
The void itself trembled as a cyclone of destruction erupted—flames, ice, lightning, and shadow twisting together in a maelstrom of annihilation. The attack surged forward, devouring space in its path.
Samuel dodged, but not fast enough—the edge of the storm grazed him, sending sparks flying off his armor. Yet, he did not falter.
Instead, a dragon's halo materialized behind him, its spectral form roaring soundlessly. His armor morphed, adopting the draconic scales of a primordial beast.
Novick retreated, but not without countering.
Light flashed behind him—
A hundred weapons materialized in the air, each radiating lethal intent. Swords, spears, axes—all forged from pure energy, all aimed at Samuel.
But Samuel only grinned.
A golden blade appeared in his grip, its edge humming with the power of his bloodline.
"Bloodline Peak Slash."
He swung.
A crescent of golden annihilation tore through the void, its aura shifting—dragon, phoenix, titan, and celestial—each essence warring for dominance within the strike.
Novick's weapons shattered on impact.
His eyes widened.
"Impossible—!"
The slash struck true.
Novick coughed blood, his body hurled backward by the force. The remnants of the attack crackled around him, the dragon's aura roaring in triumph.
Samuel stepped forward, his blade still gleaming.
"You still don't understand," he said softly. "This was never about strength."
Novick spat crimson, his fingers digging into the platform's surface.
The platform trembled beneath their feet, its ancient runes flickering weakly as if exhausted from containing their battle. The air itself was thick with the scent of ozone and blood, the residual energy of their clashes still crackling like dying embers.
Samuel stood tall, his silver robes now tattered at the edges, the celestial patterns dimmed but not extinguished. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his purple eyes gleaming with quiet triumph as he regarded Novick.
A smirk curled his lips.
"Is it enough for you to accept defeat now?"
His voice was calm, almost pitying—the tone of a master watching a stubborn student refuse to learn.
Novick knelt on one knee, his black robes singed and torn, the crimson pupils stitched into the fabric now dull and lifeless. Blood dripped from his split lip, his body aching from the force of Samuel's last strike.
But his eyes burned.
The whites of his eyes flooded with red, veins bulging like cracks in marble. His arms trembled, not from weakness, but from the sheer, unrelenting fury coursing through him.
'No. Not again. Never again.'
With a snarl, he wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze—not to Samuel, but to the void above.
"I may have lost in a battle of skill," he spat, each word dripping with venom, "but I would win in a fight of power."
A green halo erupted above him, its light sickly yet vibrant, pulsing like a heartbeat. The energy cascaded down his body in shimmering waves, knitting flesh, sealing wounds, reigniting the fire in his veins.
His fingers flexed. His back straightened.
And then—he smiled.
Samuel watched, unfazed.
He gave the barest nod—an almost imperceptible motion—before the dragon halo behind him shattered like glass.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing.
Then—
A new halo exploded into existence.
The Titan Halo.
Raw, primal energy surged through Samuel's body, his muscles swelling, his bones groaning under the sudden influx of power. His aura twisted, shedding its celestial grace, becoming something feral, something beastly.
His silver robes darkened, the fabric straining against his now-gigantic frame. His nails lengthened into claws. His teeth sharpened.
And his eyes—
No longer calm, no longer ancient.
Now, they were the eyes of a predator.
They vanished.
Not in a blur, not in a flash—but in the sheer absence of movement, as if reality itself skipped a frame.
Then—
BOOM.
Their fists met.
The shockwave ripped through the void, annihilating distant stars, reducing them to dust in an instant. The platform beneath them cracked, its runes flaring in protest before dimming again.
They flickered across the battlefield, their forms appearing and disappearing like ghosts.
Punch. A wave of energy sheared through the darkness.
Kick. A dying star imploded from the force.
Clash. The very fabric of space groaned under the strain.
Each strike was a cataclysm. Each movement, a disaster.
And neither showed any sign of stopping.
Unseen. Unnoticed.
A dark figure stepped onto the platform.
No—not stepped.
Materialized.
Its presence was like a hole in the world, a patch of deeper blackness in the already lightless void, features were obscured, their form shifting, as if refusing to be perceived.
The Being tilted their head, watching the battle with silent amusement.
The battle had reached its crescendo—a symphony of destruction that echoed across the endless dark. Novick, battered and bloodied, soared through the void like a fallen star, his body carving a fiery trail through the emptiness before impacting the platform with earth-shattering force. The ancient structure groaned, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface as dust and debris erupted into the air.
Samuel descended like a vengeful god, his Titan Halo pulsing with raw, untamed power. He landed with a thunderous crash, his knees driving into Novick's ribs, pinning him beneath his weight. The force of the impact sent another shockwave rippling outward, scattering the remnants of their earlier clashes.
Leaning down, Samuel gripped Novick by the throat, his claws digging into flesh. His smirk was cold, devoid of mercy.
"Do you accept your loss?"
Novick's face twisted in defiance, his crimson eyes burning with unyielding hatred. Blood foamed at the corners of his lips as he gritted his teeth, refusing to speak.
Then—
He screamed.
But it was no ordinary cry of frustration. It was a command, laced with biting coldness, a signal hidden within the sound itself.
"ACT. NOW."
The void twisted.
Behind Samuel, the air rippled like disturbed water—and from it emerged the dark figure, their presence finally unveiled. A blade of pure shadow formed in their grasp, its edge humming with a venomous, soul-corroding poison.
In one fluid motion, they plunged it into Samuel's back.
The strike was perfect—aimed with lethal precision, piercing through armor, flesh, and bone alike.
Black poison seeped into Samuel's veins, spreading like wildfire, its corruption gnawing at his very essence. His Titan Halo flickered, its light dimming as the venom took hold.
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