The ancient forest held its breath.
High above, canopies filtered sunlight into shifting emerald patterns. Down below, roots twisted like the bones of sleeping giants. No birds sang. No beasts stirred. The stillness wasn't natural. It was expectant.
And then, two figures entered the grove.
Tafari landed like a meteor, the impact cracking the ground with a thunderous boom that sent flocks of unseen birds screaming into the sky. Soil exploded outward, showering nearby roots as the forest shuddered beneath him.
He stood slowly, one hand in the dirt, the other curling into a patient fist. Eyes closed. Breath steady.
She's coming.
Stone coiled slowly around his arms. It wasn't armor—it was reinforcement, as natural to him as skin. There was no rage in his breath, no bloodlust in his eyes. Only discipline. Stillness. The immovable presence of a mountain.
Then came the light.
A shimmer of gold broke the treeline.
Lyra descended in silence, as if gravity dared not offend her. Sunlight seemed to bend toward her, cradling her form in divine warmth. Wings of pure radiance folded behind her shoulders; her robes shimmered with a faint glow. Her gaze was serene—unsettlingly so.
Tafari opened his eyes and studied her with quiet gravity. "That was an impressive blast back there."
Her magic bled serenity, but Tafari saw the edge beneath it—a steel honed over years.
She stepped forward without hesitation, her eyes calm—but behind that calm burned a silent urgency, a prayer that this would end without tragedy.
"I'm sorry," she said, voice soft as falling snow. "But I won't hold back. Let me end this quickly."
He didn't reply. A small grin flickered at the corners of his mouth. Then he lowered his arms.
Begin.
Lyra vanished.
Tafari spun, sensing the vacuum her body left behind. Right shoulder. Incoming.
He raised an earthen wall—Too slow.
A blade of light sheared through stone like mist. Heat surged across his cheek as she landed a few feet away, her hand already glowing.
"Radiant Mark," she whispered.
A golden sigil etched itself onto his upper shoulder, glowing softly, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Tch. She marked me. That's her strategy.
Tafari moved to retaliate—but she was gone again.
Another flicker. Another mark seared into his ribs.
He slammed a foot into the earth. The earth screamed. A pulse of raw power erupted outward, toppling trees, rupturing roots in every direction.
Lyra blinked out of existence.
But this time—she reappeared behind him.
She's studying my reactions. No wasted movement. She's far more dangerous than I thought.
A third mark branded his back.
Tafari gritted his teeth.
"Earth Conversion."
The sigils pulsed—and dissolved into density. His flesh turned to ironstone. Veins of obsidian rippled across his body, each mark feeding his strength instead of weakening it.
He looked at her. "You're feeding me."
Lyra tilted her head, unreadable. Her silence screamed. I'll finish this soon.
Tafari moved.
His punch shattered the ground as Lyra blurred to the side. She raised her hand again.
"Sanctum Bind."
Golden rings snapped around his torso. His joints groaned in protest, magic constricting like chains of judgment. Another mark seared onto his spine.
Four. Too many.
He flexed. Stone splintered the rings. His magic surged like magma.
Hundreds of spears erupted, criss-crossing the grove. They shot toward her like judgment.
But she danced through them, untouched.
She blinked forward again, eyes glowing.
The sigils flared—then burst in tandem, detonating like suns beneath his skin. Tafari screamed as the force lifted him off his feet, his chest caving inward with the heat of celestial fire.
Radiance tore through his core. Tafari flew backward, smoke trailing from his body. The scent of scorched earth and bloodstone choked the air.
He landed hard, kneeling. Breathing heavy.
Still not enough.
Roots answered his call. Stone gathered. The forest bent to him. Branches snapped and wrapped around his core. His body doubled—not in mass, but in structure. The stone was intelligent. A suit of living architecture.
He leapt.
A meteor falling upward.
And finally—he connected.
His punch landed on her stomach. Lyra's body folded, and she crashed through bark and stone, divine blood splattering the grass.
She coughed, light flickering around her body. Yet—she smiled.
No...
A realization carved into him.
A trap. His eyes widened.
He felt them now—tiny marks, etched across his body. Hands. Wrists. Elbows.
Every time she'd touched him.
''It's over'' she muttered.
The canopy split. Blinding sunlight poured down—not natural, but summoned, bent by her will.
"Solar Requiem."
A column of divine fire descended.
Tafari roared. Spikes of obsidian erupted. The earth itself rebelled. The battlefield rose to meet the light in defiance.
But it was like trying to block the sun.
The beam pierced everything.
Lyra descended with it. Wings blazing. Her eyes locked on his.
Every mark ignited.
An explosion of holy light swallowed the forest.
When the brilliance faded, silence returned.
Ash drifted like snow. Trees were vaporized. Roots, gone.
Lyra barely stood. Her robes hung in tatters, one wing torn, blood streaking her lips.
But she stood. Light pooled at her fingertips, knitting torn flesh and fractured bone with quiet resolve.
Tafari kneeled before her, his stone armor cracked to dust. He looked up, vision blurred, and then—collapsed.
Lyra knelt beside him. Light gathered at her palm—not to strike, but to mend.
Tafari coughed. Smiled faintly. "Is that your so-called angelic grace? Sparing enemies? Your mercy... will be your downfall one day."
She rose slowly.
"I healed you just enough so you won't bleed to death here. Any sudden movement could still kill you," she said, her wings unfurling with effort.
"Mercy isn't weakness," she whispered—and vanished into the mist.
Roots began to grow again.
Tafari chuckled. He closed his eyes.
I've lost.
***
I had better hurry up. Kai should be facing Blaze at this point.
Lyra soared, golden wings carrying her across the broken forest.
She returned to the original battleground—then froze mid-flight, her wings faltering for a beat. The land below wasn't just scarred—it was erased. An unnatural stillness clung to the crater, as if even the wind feared to move.
Then she saw him.
"Kai!"
He was broken. Bloody. Barely breathing.
She nearly flew toward him—until she saw the other figure.
Blaze.
He turned his head, sensing her. His gaze locked with hers.
Unblinking. Empty.
I hadn't noticed it earlier, but now it's clear as day to me, this guy is a complete monster.
With a single breath, she charged.
I won't be able to mark him. In that case, I only have one option.
She rose high. Light converged above her.
Thousands of beams rained down—an orchestra of judgment. The sky turned white.
To blind. To distract.
Blaze took five seconds to notice.
She didn't aim for me.
Then the light vanished. As if it never existed. Lyra stood in the center of the pit. Radiant. Still.
Blaze appeared beside her in a blink.
No sound.
He struck—one clean, brutal blow. Blood exploded from her mouth, her eyes, even her pores. Her body twisted mid-air, weightless and limp, before crashing down like a shattered marionette.
Blaze exhaled. His voice cut through the silence, flat and unreadable. "A distraction, then. You used it… to heal him."
He turned slightly.
Kai stood at the edge of the crater, swaying, broken—but upright.
Blaze tilted his head. "Still… what can healing him possibly change?" No contempt. No mockery. Just genuine curiosity—like a scientist observing a failed experiment.
Lyra smiled, blood trailing her lips. "Don't screw it up this time," she murmured—and collapsed.
Kai took one step forward, his shoulders hunched and trembling, dried blood crusted along his jaw. But his eyes—his eyes burned like the storm had found a vessel.
The ground trembled beneath his feet. "I won't," he said.
Black lightning screamed across his body.
Like shadows given form.
The world trembled.
[3 minutes and 15 seconds until Kaida completes the siphoning.]