Soot and dust filled the air. The melting metal skeletons of once-magnificent skyscrapers collapsed into the ruined ground.
Sonic booms echoed in the distance as Ross watched the battle unfold. He, an Eminent, was about to leap into a battle of Paragons. This could be his last fight—but if Quinn lost, he'd die anyway.
A pitch-black armor materialized around him, pulsing with restrained power. He reached out, grasping a halberd with flames for its head.
With a thunderous boom, he launched himself into the fray.
***********************************************
'Fuck, I'm going to die,' a man thought, barely standing.
He was covered in blood, his breath ragged, and his armor clinging to him in tatters.
Opposite him stood a nightmare.
It had six glowing eyes and four horns that formed a jagged crown. The creature towered at nearly three meters, its flesh scarred and bloodstained—but it was still far more intact than the man it faced.
Four muscular arms each held a different weapon: a greatsword, a warhammer, a flail, and a jagged spear. Its back and shoulders bristled with jagged, multicolored crystals that pulsed with inner light.
With a snarl, it lunged forward. The ruined earth beneath it exploded into shards as it vanished in a blur of speed.
Quinn leapt back as the monster's greatsword cleaved down where he'd stood a heartbeat before. He retaliated instantly.
A column of fire burst from his body, meeting the creature's weapon mid-swing. But the beast didn't even try to block. It took the blast head-on, striding through the inferno.
Quinn's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched.
Behind him, the air shimmered. Flaming swords ignited in the sky.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Tens of thousands.
They hung there, humming, and began to spin—slowly at first, then gaining speed. Their flames shifted from orange to blue, then to white-hot.
It was beautiful.
Then—
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The swords descended like a meteor storm, crashing into the monster and exploding on impact. The ground melted. The air superheated. Rubble turned to ash.
RROOOOOOAAAARRRRR!
The creature howled in fury and pain as it was engulfed in flame.
Quinn exhaled slowly, his legs shaking. For a moment, he smiled, but just for a moment. The next second, the fire vanished as if it had never existed.
Its body glowed with white flames. Its wounds knitted themselves shut before his eyes. The crystals on its back pulsed brighter than ever—fully charged.
Quinn's smile died.
'I'm screwed,' he thought.
CRACK!
The flail came out of nowhere. It slammed into his chest with a sickening crunch, launching him into the air. Blood sprayed from his mouth mid-flight before he crashed into the ground, tumbling through rubble and steel, his body digging a trench. He lay on the ground, coughing up blood, his vision hazy.
He felt an immense weight on his chest, his eyes focusing to see the creature's foot on him. Its intent was obvious. Its eyes gleamed with a cruel light, obviously enjoying the suffering of its prey.
It stomped once, and Quinn's body sank into the ground with a crunch, more blood pouring from his mouth.
The creature lifted its foot off him before thrusting its spear forward, intent on finishing the job.
A flash of black flame intercepted the strike with a deafening clang.