The Entity moved first.
Its massive form blurred, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat, multiple arms swinging with enough force to shatter mountains. Ilias met the attack with his staff, and the impact sent shockwaves rippling through the air, cracking the ground beneath them, shattering every window within five blocks.
They were equals now.
The Entity realized it immediately. Where before it had dominated, where before Ilias had been driven back and broken with each exchange, now their powers matched perfectly. Light met darkness. Divine strength met primordial void. And neither gave ground.
"IMPRESSIVE," the Entity said, genuine surprise in its thousand-layered voice. "YOU'RE ACTUALLY A THREAT NOW."
Ilias's staff became a spear, driving toward the Entity's core. "More than a threat."
The Entity caught the spear with one hand, but this time, the light didn't crack. Didn't break. It burned through the Entity's palm, forcing it to release the weapon and leap back.
For the first time in their fight, the Entity retreated.
They circled each other in the ruined plaza, two titans preparing for war. The air between them shimmered with conflicting energies—gold and black, sound and silence, creation and void.
Then they clashed again.
The speed was incomprehensible. They moved faster than eyes could track, faster than sound could follow. Their forms became blurs—gold and darkness streaking through the city, colliding, separating, colliding again.
Each impact cratered streets. Each deflected blow brought down buildings. The sheer force of their battle reshaped the landscape with every exchange.
Three blocks away, Kojo looked up as a golden streak passed overhead, followed by a wave of darkness.
The wind of their passage nearly knocked him off his feet. When he regained his balance, all he could see were the contrails they'd left behind—golden light and black shadow painted across the sky.
"Was that—" Rhea started.
"Ilias." Kojo's voice was filled with awe and fear in equal measure. "That was my brother."
They watched as the two figures clashed again, high above the city. The impact lit up the sky like a second sun, and thunder rolled across the districts despite there being no storm.
"Is he a god ?," Rhea said quietly. "Or close enough."
The golden figure—Ilias, transformed beyond recognition—moved with grace that seemed impossible at that speed. His staff shifted forms mid-strike, adapting to every attack, countering every defense. He was beautiful and terrible, a force of nature given human shape.
And he was fighting something even worse.
"Can he win?" a civilian asked, voice shaking.
Kojo thought about his brother. The scared kid who'd just wanted to survive. Who'd grown into a young man willing to sacrifice everything to protect the people he loved.
"Yes," Kojo said firmly. "He can. He will."
Above them, the battle raged on.
Ilias drove his staff through the Entity's shoulder, golden light exploding from the wound. The Entity roared, backhanding him with enough force to send him crashing through three buildings.
Ilias emerged from the rubble, barely slowed, and launched himself back into the fight.
They were moving faster now, pushing each other, testing limits. Ilias's staff became a hammer, slamming into the Entity's ribs with enough force to crack the crystalline growths covering its body. The Entity retaliated with a barrage of void-constructs, each one capable of erasing matter from existence.
Ilias dodged, weaved, destroyed them with bursts of divine light, never stopping, never slowing.
But he could feel it. The Entity was strong. Even at fifty percent, even with Orun-Fela's full blessing flowing through him, this was the hardest fight of his life.
The Entity knew it too.
"YOU'RE STRONG," it admitted, blocking another strike. "STRONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED. BUT STRENGTH ALONE WON'T BE ENOUGH. I'VE EXISTED FOR EONS. I'VE CONSUMED COUNTLESS WORLDS. I AM INFINITE."
"You're desperate." Ilias's staff became a chain, wrapping around the Entity's arm. "I can hear it in your voice."
He yanked hard, using the chain to slam the Entity into the ground. The impact created a crater fifty meters wide.
The Entity rose, and Ilias saw something in its too-many eyes.
Fear.
It was afraid.
"I NEED—" the Entity started, then stopped. Its form flickered, and Ilias felt it reaching out with its consciousness, searching for something.
Then he understood.
"No," Ilias said. "Don't you dare—"
"I NEED MORE POWER."
The Entity's presence exploded outward, not as an attack, but as a call. It let out a shriek that made ilias cover his ears, And throughout the city, the Pities responded.
In the eastern district, a possessed woman suddenly screamed. The darkness inside her—the Pity that had been controlling her body—was ripped free, torn from her flesh and soul like a parasite being forcibly extracted.
It hurt. More than anything she'd ever felt. But when it was over, she collapsed, free and alive.
All across the city, the same thing happened. Hundreds of possessed people suddenly convulsing as the Pities were drawn out of them, pulled toward the Entity like iron to a magnet.
The creatures flew through the air as streams of living darkness, converging on the cathedral plaza, pouring into the Entity's form.
It grew larger. Stronger. More terrible.
Mira felt it happen. Felt the sudden absence of malevolent presence from the people she'd been trying to save. "The Pities—they're being recalled!"
"Is that good?" Kai asked.
"I don't know." Mira looked toward the plaza, where golden light and darkness battled. "But I don't think Ilias is done fighting yet."
---
The Entity wasn't satisfied with just the Pities.
Throughout the tunnels beneath the city, in hidden sanctuaries and dark places, the remaining Cultists felt the call.
Some tried to run. Some tried to resist. Some accepted their fate with grim resignation.
It didn't matter.
The Entity's will was absolute. It reached into them, into the Silence-blessed power they'd cultivated, and took everything.
Cultist after Cultist collapsed, drained of power, of life, of everything that made them more than empty shells. Some survived the draining, left as broken husks. Others simply died, their bodies unable to withstand having their essence torn away.
The Entity consumed them all.
And in a small room in the Church district, Mia felt it coming.
She'd been hiding since the battle began. Not fighting. Not helping anyone. Just waiting, hoping her master would call her back, would tell her what to do.
Now she understood.
The Entity didn't need her loyalty anymore.
It needed her power.
"No," she whispered, backing against the wall as she felt the pull beginning. "No, please, I served you, I loved—"
"I NEED YOUR POWER MORE THAN YOUR LOYALTY."
The voice was inside her mind, cold and absolute. And then the draining began.
Mia screamed as everything she was—every ounce of Silence-blessed strength, every construct she'd learned to form, every bit of power the Entity had granted her—was ripped away.
She thought of Ilias. The boy she'd loved. The man who'd rejected her. The Blessed who'd chosen others over her.
She'd wanted to be special to someone. To matter. To be needed.
Instead, she was being used. Again. One last time.
The world went dark, and Mia collapsed, empty and still.
Whether she was dead or merely drained to nothing, not even she knew anymore.
The Entity's form expanded, grew, transformed. The absorbed power of hundreds of Pities and dozens of Cultists flooded into it, and what had been a twelve-meter monstrosity became something far worse.
Twenty meters. Thirty. Forty.
It grew until it towered over the ruined plaza, a mountain of crystalline flesh and void-darkness, more arms than could be counted, more eyes than should exist, a being that reality itself struggled to contain.
"NOW," it said, its voice shaking the air. "NOW WE ARE EQUAL AGAIN."
Ilias looked up at the transformed Entity, and his grip tightened on his staff.
"Good," he said. "I was getting bored."
They clashed, and the shockwave leveled everything within a kilometer.
---
The battle escalated beyond anything the city could contain.
They moved faster now, trading blows that tore holes in reality. Ilias's staff shifted through forms so quickly it looked like he was wielding a dozen weapons at once—spear, sword, hammer, chain, bow, each form lasting only microseconds before adapting to the next attack.
The Entity matched him, its countless arms attacking from every angle, void-constructs filling the air, darkness spreading like a plague.
But Ilias pushed forward. Step by step. Strike by strike. Driving the Entity back.
"YOU'RE STRONGER THAN EXPECTED," the Entity admitted, its voice strained now. "BUT THIS CITY WILL BE YOUR TOMB. THESE PEOPLE YOU LOVE WILL DIE IN THE CROSSFIRE OF OUR BATTLE."
Ilias looked down at the ruined streets. At the civilians still evacuating. At his friends fighting to protect them.
At Seraph, somewhere in the chaos, still standing, still fighting.
"No," he said. "They won't."
His staff became wings, and he grabbed the Entity with threads of golden light, binding it, lifting it.
"What are you—" the Entity started.
"WE'RE LEAVING."
Ilias flew. Not away from the city, but carrying the Entity with him, dragging the ancient evil away from the people he'd sworn to protect.
The Entity struggled, but Ilias held firm, pouring every ounce of power he had into the binding. They rose higher, faster, leaving the burning city behind.
And then they were over the walls, over the outskirts, flying toward the wilderness beyond.
Ilias released the Entity, and they both fell, crashing into a forest miles from the city. Trees disintegrated under the impact, the ground cratering, wildlife fleeing in terror from the divine and primordial presences that had just invaded their world.
Ilias stood in the center of the destruction, staff blazing.
The Entity rose across from him, darkness spreading like a stain.
"CLEVER," it said. "REMOVING THE BATTLE FROM YOUR PRECIOUS CIVILIANS. BUT IT WON'T SAVE THEM. WHEN I KILL YOU, I'LL RETURN. AND I'LL TAKE MY TIME CONSUMING EVERYONE YOU LOVE."
"You won't get the chance."
They charged.
The forest didn't survive the first minute.
---
They fought across miles of wilderness, and everywhere they went, the landscape died.
The forest became a wasteland of shattered trees and scorched earth. They crashed into a mountain range, and peaks crumbled like sandcastles under their assault. Ilias's staff carved canyons with each strike. The Entity's darkness erased entire hillsides from existence.
The battle was beyond human comprehension now. They moved at speeds that bent light, struck with forces that cracked stone like glass, wielded powers that made reality itself scream in protest.
Ilias's staff became a massive hammer, and he brought it down on the Entity's head with enough force to split the mountain they were fighting on. The peak exploded, sending millions of tons of rock tumbling down the slopes.
The Entity caught itself mid-fall, reformed its shattered head, and retaliated with a beam of pure void that cut through the air like a blade. Ilias raised his staff, and the beam split around him, carving twin trenches into the landscape that stretched for kilometers.
They crashed together again, and the impact created a shockwave that flattened every tree within a five-mile radius.
Above them, the sky had darkened. Not with clouds, but with the sheer wrongness of their battle. Reality was struggling to contain forces that shouldn't exist in the same space.
And somewhere far above, beyond the atmosphere, satellites caught glimpses of the explosions. Flashes of golden light visible from orbit. Craters forming that could be seen from space.
The world was watching two titans destroy each other, and all they could do was pray one of them was on their side.
---
Back in the city, Seraph stood on a rooftop and watched the distant flashes of light.
Each one marked another impact. Another exchange in a battle she couldn't even comprehend.
"Come back," she whispered. "Please, Ilias. Come back to me."
Kojo stood with Rhea in the evacuation zone, staring at the horizon where explosions lit up the sky like a storm.
"He's winning," Rhea said, though she didn't sound certain.
"He has to be." Kojo's gauntlets pulsed with Ogun's light. "He has to."
Mira knelt in the medical station, hands clasped, praying to gods she'd never quite believed in.
"Protect him. Please. He's all we have."
Throughout the city, people stopped and looked toward the distant battle. Some prayed. Some wept. Some simply watched in awe.
Their savior was fighting a monster beyond their understanding, and all they could do was hope.
---
The Entity was getting desperate.
Ilias could feel it with every exchange. The ancient evil was throwing everything it had into each attack, no longer conserving power, no longer planning for later.
Because there might not be a later.
"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE WEAK!" the Entity roared, its thousand voices layered with rage and fear. "LOCKED! CONTAINED! HELPLESS!"
"I was." Ilias's staff became a spear, piercing through one of the Entity's arms. The limb dissolved into shadow. "But I grew. I learned. I found people worth fighting for."
He pulled the spear free and drove it through another arm. Then another.
"And you?" Ilias's eyes blazed with golden fire. "You're just a bully. A parasite. Something that feeds on suffering because it's too weak to create anything of its own."
"I AM PRIMORDIAL!" The Entity lashed out with everything it had—dozens of constructs, waves of darkness, reality-bending attacks that should have erased Ilias from existence.
Ilias's staff became a shield, and divine light poured from it, pushing back the assault. "You're desperate."
The Entity screamed, and the sound shattered what was left of the mountains around them.
Then it pulled back, gathering power, preparing for one final attack.
Ilias saw it coming. Saw the Entity channeling everything it had absorbed—the Pities, the Cultists, the stolen power of centuries—into a single point.
This was it. The final exchange.
Winner takes all.
Ilias looked at his staff. Felt Orun-Fela's presence within it, stronger now than ever before.
"I need more," he said quietly.
"Then take it," the god's voice replied. "Take everything I have. Manifest my will in reality. Show this ancient evil what true freedom looks like."
Ilias drove the Osh'Kora into the ground and placed both hands on it.
And pulled.
Not pulling the staff from the earth. Pulling the power from within it directly into himself.
Golden light exploded from the weapon, flowing up Ilias's arms, into his chest, spreading through his entire body. It was more than blessing now. More than borrowed strength.
For just this moment, for just this final strike, Ilias and Orun-Fela were one.
The staff blazed brighter than the sun, and behind Ilias, something began to form.
A figure. Massive. Divine. Made entirely of golden light so pure it burned away the shadows just by existing.
It was Orun-Fela. Not the god himself, but a spectral manifestation of his will, his power, his very essence given form through Ilias's body.
The divine warrior stood easily a hundred meters tall, humanoid but perfect, every line and angle radiating purpose and strength. Its face was Orun-Fela's—stern but compassionate, fierce but just. And in its massive hands, it held the Osh'Kora staff, grown to match its size.
The Entity stared up at the manifestation, and for the first time, its thousand voices spoke as one.
"Impossible."
Ilias stood within the spectral form, his consciousness merged with the god's, and when he spoke, it was with both their voices.
"FOR FREEDOM!"
The spectral Orun-Fela moved.
The staff came down like a falling star, golden light trailing behind it, too fast to dodge, too powerful to block.
The Entity threw everything it had into stopping it. Every construct, every ounce of stolen power, every last desperate defense.
It wasn't enough.
The staff pierced through the Entity's defenses like they were mist. Drove through its crystalline body. Through its core. Through the very essence of what it was.
And kept going, plunging deep into the earth, pinning the Entity like an insect.
"NO!" The Entity writhed, trying to dissolve, to escape. "I AM ETERNAL! I CANNOT BE—"
"You're finished." Ilias poured everything into the staff. Every ounce of power Orun-Fela had granted him. Every bit of strength he'd earned. Every reason he had to fight.
For Kojo. For Seraph. For Mira and Kai and Rhea and Torrin. For every person in that city who'd trusted him to protect them.
For freedom.
Golden light exploded from the Entity's core, spreading through its body like fire through paper. The ancient evil screamed, its form fragmenting, dissolving, being consumed from within by divine power.
"I... AM... PRIMORDIAL..." it gasped, still defiant even as it died.
"You were," Ilias said. "But even eternity has to end sometime."
The Entity's form collapsed. The crystalline growths shattered. The stolen flesh disintegrated. The void-darkness that had made up its essence burned away under the golden light.
And with one final, reality-shaking scream, the Entity died.
The explosion was visible from space.
A sphere of golden light erupted from the impact site, expanding outward in a perfect circle, consuming everything in its path—not destroying, but purifying. Burning away the taint the Entity had left on the world.
When the light faded, there was nothing left of the Entity but ash.
And in the center of the crater, surrounded by scorched earth that stretched for miles, Ilias Venn fell to his knees.
The spectral Orun-Fela dissolved, its purpose fulfilled. The staff returned to normal size, still clutched in Ilias's grip. The fifty percent power that had made him unstoppable began to fade, the locks re-engaging, pulling back the divine strength to safe levels.
Fifteen percent. Maybe twenty. That's all he had left.
It was enough. It had to be enough.
Because the Entity was dead.
Ilias tried to stand. Failed. Tried again. Collapsed.
His vision blurred. His body screamed in protest. Every nerve was on fire, every muscle pushed beyond its limits.
"I did it," he whispered. "I actually... I did it..."
Then darkness claimed him, and Ilias Venn—Blessed of Orun-Fela, Savior of the Morrows, the young man who'd stood against primordial evil and won—fell unconscious.
---
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then, in the distance, he could hear them. His family. His friends. Shouting his name.
Coming for him.
But Ilias couldn't respond. Couldn't move. Could barely breathe.
He'd won.
But the cost...
The cost was only beginning to reveal itself.