As the rest of the heroes stood upon scattered islands, watching in anticipation,
Sarai ascended into the sky, facing Poseidon alone. The air between them crackled with
divine energy, the ocean below calm yet ominous, awaiting the inevitable clash. Poseidon
studied his new opponent, his piercing blue eyes filled with both curiosity and respect.
"Very well, Sarai of Lupin. Show me the strength that earns you the right to pass through
the Seal." Sarai's muscles tensed, his silver-white hair whipping in the wind as he let his
lupine energy surge. His aura was unlike the others—ancient, primal, yet refined. He had
honed his abilities beyond mere brute strength, achieving a mastery over himself that
even Talus had never witnessed before. "No transformations yet," Sarai declared. "I'll
fight you as I am now." Poseidon nodded. "A wise choice. A warrior who relies too much
on transformation has already lost." Then, the battle began.
BOOM!
In a single instant, both warriors vanished from sight. A mere heartbeat later, they
reappeared mid-air—Poseidon's trident and Sarai's clawed fists clashing in a burst of
force so immense it sent tidal waves roaring across the battlefield. The sea trembled
beneath them, caught in the wake of their blindingly fast exchanges. Sarai moved like a
spectral force, weaving through Poseidon's strikes, his wolf-like reflexes anticipating
every thrust of the divine trident. Each time Poseidon's trident attempted to land a hit,
Sarai was already gone, dodging at the last possible instant. Talus's eyes widened from
the shoreline. "Damn... he's actually keeping up with that monster, how'd this bastard
get so strong?" Poseidon smirked mid-battle. "Impressive. You're faster than I expected."
Sarai's response was a rapid spinning kick, enhanced with a controlled burst of energy.
The strike connected—Poseidon skidded backward across the air, his divine presence
rippling outward. For the first time, the Sea Guardian was on the defensive. Zaiyal
grinned. "Not bad, wolf boy, you've improved since we fought Lucifer." Ungar, still
recovering from his own failed attack, shook his head. "No. This isn't the same Sarai we
knew."
Tatu crossed his arms, eyes gleaming. "Of course not. He's surpassed most of us
here, even myself." Zaiyal and Talus shook with shock, "Even in your Golden Cicada
form?" They looked back at Talus, "How could this be?! How could he have become this
strong?" But Poseidon was not yet finished. As he slid to a halt mid-air, he thrust his
trident toward the heavens. "Trident Art: Ocean's Wrath." The entire sky darkened, and
then— A hundred razor-thin water lances materialized, shimmering with divine energy.
They shot toward Sarai like a relentless storm, moving faster than sound itself. Sarai
didn't flinch. Instead, he closed his eyes. Then, he moved. He darted between the lances,
twisting his body in perfect synchronization with the attack. His every movement was
precise, like a dancer avoiding unseen threads of fate. Not a single lance touched him.
The moment he landed, his foot touched nothing but air, yet he stood firm. His aura
pulsed as he gathered energy in his right fist, his power coalescing into something far
beyond mere brute force. Poseidon narrowed his eyes. "I see now... You don't rely on
raw power alone." Sarai smirked. "Took you long enough." The battlefield trembled as
Sarai's body flickered, his aura no longer just visible—it warped reality itself. He
transformed into a "White Wolf with glowing hair and pale blue eyes," very similar to
the form Hermes had accomplished. Tatu laughed: "Behold Sarai's White Lupus
form." His movements became unreadable. Faster. Sharper.
Poseidon gripped his trident with both hands, recognizing the shift in momentum.
This was no longer just a test—Sarai was rising to a level beyond what he had expected.
With a single breath, Sarai launched himself forward. Poseidon swung his trident to meet
him, the air screaming from the force of his strike. But just as their weapons should have
clashed— Sarai was gone. He had moved past Poseidon's attack without resistance. And
then— BAM! A devastating blow struck Poseidon's chest. The Sea Guardian was sent
crashing down, smashing into the ocean's depths, disappearing beneath the endless
waves. Silence fell over the battlefield. Talus, Zaiyal, and the rest of the heroes watched
in awe. Daniel-02 blinked. "Did... did he actually—" Before the thought could finish, the
ocean below began to churn violently. A pillar of divine water erupted skyward, and from
within it, Poseidon rose once more. Despite the force of Sarai's attack, the Guardian
emerged unscathed. He held his trident aloft, water swirling in a celestial vortex. His
expression was not one of anger—but admiration. "Sarai..." Poseidon's voice echoed
across the battlefield. "You have proven yourself beyond expectations." He planted his
trident into the air before him. "This trial is over."
The tension eased as Poseidon lowered his weapon. Sarai hovered in place,
panting slightly but otherwise calm. "So, did I win?" Poseidon chuckled. "No. But you
have earned my respect." With a single wave of his hand, the ocean calmed, the floating
islands stabilized, and the once-raging battlefield returned to peace. The heroes
descended back to solid ground, still processing what had just happened. Poseidon faced
the group. "You are all powerful, but strength alone does not grant passage through the
Seal of the Crystal Sea." His eyes met Sarai's. "Only those who have transcended
themselves may advance. Sarai has done this. And so, I grant you my blessing." As he
spoke, the Seal of the Crystal Sea glowed beneath the ocean's surface, a radiant sigil
manifesting in the water. The path forward had opened. Talus scoffed, crossing his arms.
"Tch. I still think I could've beaten you." Poseidon chuckled. "Then perhaps we shall
fight again, in a battle without restriction." Sarai smirked, wiping sweat from his brow.
"I'll pass. That was enough." With the trial complete, the heroes prepared to move
forward—toward the next challenge. Because beyond the Seal of the Crystal Sea... lay
the final battle for Solaria.
Uvia and the others bid them farewell. Uvia said: "Nova's taking one of the ships
through the portal I'm able to conjure near Galac 09-12 which doesn't violate the laws of
the Other World. Unfortunately, to get to Solaria from here we needed to defeat Posedin."
Hermes laughed, "Fortunately he won." Uvia replied: "Yes, my group and Nova's will
head towards the Seal that's at Sector 12, and protect it from the forces of the Old God.
You however have to get to the portal that's inside Solaria it will take you directly to the part of the Other World where the Seal of Osiris is. Good luck. If we're lucky, we'll meet
you at the Apollonian capital before you face off against the Old God." Uvia lifted one of
two of Nova's ship which the main group going forward: Zaiyal, Talus, Ungar, Martreya
Narcis Buddha, Qayyim, Karen, Hermes, Sarai and Daniel, and Scott Greer, would use
to fly just a few miles to Zaiyal's home planet, Solaria: on the other side of the Seal of
Poseidon outside of the Other World.
The ship hummed as it entered the orbit of Solaria, Zaiyal's home world. The
moment they breached the planet's atmosphere, the view outside the windows became a
breathtaking display of cosmic wonder—twin suns burned bright over a sprawling
landscape of golden deserts, towering crystalline cities, and vast battle arenas carved into
the land itself. As the ship descended, the heroes saw colossal warriors clad in brilliant
armor training on massive floating platforms, while others engaged in ritual combat on
the ground, their bodies wreathed in celestial energy. Talus whistled, arms crossed. "Well,
this place is ridiculous, I could destroy all of them." Ungar grunted. "I think I'm going to
like it here." Zaiyal, standing at the helm, looked almost nervous. "Alright, listen up.
Solaria isn't like other planets. Here, everyone—and I mean everyone—is a warrior. They
live, breathe, and eat battle. Strength determines status, honor is everything, and if you
insult the wrong person, you might find yourself in a duel to the death before lunch."
Zaiyal thought to himself: "I honestly never thought I would come back here, certainly
not meet my descendants 1,000 years in the future." Talus grinned. "Sounds perfect."
Zaiyal glared at him. "That wasn't a compliment." Karen, adjusting her glasses, asked,
"So... we're just stopping here for supplies before heading to the portal, right?" Zaiyal
sighed. "Not exactly. We have to check in with the Solarian High Council. They oversee
all interstellar warriors passing through, and—" Before she could finish, a loud explosion
erupted outside. The ship barely touched down on the landing platform before an
explosion of dust and energy sent the ground shaking. The moment the door opened, the
heroes were greeted by a group of ten-foot-tall armored warriors, their glowing weapons
drawn. At the front stood a massive Solarian woman, her golden hair tied into a battle
braid, her piercing red eyes locked onto Zaiyal. She crossed her arms, her scarred but
regal face twisting into a smirk. "Zaiyal. Finally dragged your sorry ass home, huh?"
Zaiyal groaned. "How do you know who I am?! As far as you're concerned I should have
been dead for 1,000 years." Zaiyal paused for a moment: "No way, you're still alive?!
VESPA???!!!" The woman laughed: "About 950 years ago there have been some
amazing advances in Solarian technology and healthcare. The Average Solarian lives to
the ripe-old age of 1,800 now."
Talus stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "This about to be a fight? 'Cause I
am so ready." Zaiyal sighed, rubbing his temples. "Everyone, meet Commander Veska.
She's... my older sister." Talus blinked. "Oh. Wait, she's your sister? No offense, but she
looks like she could beat you into the dirt. But as far as I'm concerned she's nothing."
Veska grinned, cracking her neck. "She can't, but I can." Before Talus could retort, Veska
vanished—reappearing inches from him, her fist already cocked back. BOOM! Talus
barely managed to block as her punch sent him skidding backward, his boots digging
trenches into the metal floor. Talus was irritated: "You dare challenge a member of the
Demon-Clan!" Ungar laughed. "I like her." Zaiyal shouted, "Veska, seriously?! We just
landed!" Veska shrugged. "It's a greeting." Karen muttered, "Why does everything seem
to turn into a fight with you people?" Daniel-02, watching from the side, nodded.
"Fascinating culture." Sarai sighed. "Zaiyal, are we actually going to meet this council,
or are we just going to brawl our way through the entire planet?" Zaiyal rolled her eyes.
"Honestly? Probably both." Veska, still grinning, lowered her fists. "Come on, little sister.
You and your friends have a meeting with the Council. But first..." She pointed at Talus.
"You and me. One round." Talus grinned like a maniac. "Sure thing."
The energy of the impending battle filled the air as Talus and Veska squared off,
but Zaiyal had other concerns. He had spent a thousand years away from Solaria, and
despite the fact that Veska—his older sister—had somehow lived through the centuries,
the idea of seeing her home again sent an unexpected wave of emotion through him. As
the warriors prepared for their inevitable fight, Zaiyal took a step back, his eyes scanning
the city. It was both different and the same. Towering battle arenas still loomed over the
horizon, but the streets were wider, the structures taller. He saw young Solarians
training in the open courtyards, just as she once had. The sound of laughter, of sparring,
of life echoed through the city. A scent hit his nose—sweet, familiar. He turned his head
toward a small street stall on the edge of the platform, where an old woman with silver
hair was cooking something on an open flame. Zaiyal's heart skipped a beat. "Is that..."
She took an involuntary step forward. Veska, noticing her hesitation, smirked.
"Something wrong, little brother?" Zaiyal ignored her. He was already walking toward
the food stall, her pulse quickening. The stall looked almost exactly as he remembered.
When she was young, training under the harsh conditions of Solaria, his one escape had
been coming here, sneaking away from the battle academies to eat something that
wasn't just warrior rations.
He approached the old woman tending the stall. The woman glanced up, eyes
sharp despite her age. "You look like you've seen a ghost, boy." Her voice was
familiar—gruff but warm. Zaiyal swallowed hard. "Do you... remember me?" The old woman studied her for a long moment. Then, her eyes widened. "Zaiyal?" Zaiyal
nodded, suddenly feeling like a kid again.The woman huffed. "I thought you were
dead." Zaiyal let out a dry chuckle. "You and me both." The old woman smirked. "You
always used to run off from training to steal my dumplings. You gonna pay this
time?" Zaiyal laughed, feeling warmth spread in his chest. He reached into his belt,
producing a handful of Solarian credits. "This time, yeah." The old woman scoffed
but took the credits anyway. She turned to the grill, pulling out a steaming dumpling and
handing it over. Zaiyal took a bite—and everything hit him at once. The taste. The
texture. The memory. For a brief moment, he wasn't a warrior, a space traveler, or a
fighter against the Old God. He was just Zaiyal, standing at his favorite street stall,
tasting home for the first time in a thousand years. The old woman softened, watching
her expression. "Good to have you back, boy." Zaiyal swallowed, nodding. "It's good
to be back."
As Zaiyal was eating his snack and as Talus and Vespa were continuing their duel.
Ungar and others walked up behind him. Qayyim as she was his foreign alien (human)
wife asked Zaiyal: "Hey Zaiyal, you mind introducing us, who is this woman?"
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