The silence that followed Ato's massive strike was heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and charred stone. As the swirling dust began to settle, a jagged, dark shape became visible on the fractured floor. Ato, his chest heaving and his vision blurred by sweat and blood, didn't wait for the smoke to clear. His only thought was the pale, unmoving form of his friend.
"Faramis!" Ato roared, his voice cracking. He lunged forward, his boots skidding on the debris.
But the universe wasn't finished with them yet.
From the heart of the dust cloud, a shadow whipped outward with the speed of a thunderbolt. A slick, black tentacle, covered in pulsating purple veins, erupted from the gloom. It struck the ground inches from Ato's feet, shattering the stone. Ato skidded to a halt as the dust was violently sucked inward, revealing a nightmare.
Zyrrex was standing. He shouldn't have been. Blood flowed in dark rivers from his entire body, staining his tattered clothes, but his eyes were wide and manic. He looked less like a man and more like a corpse being piloted by a demon.
"You..." Zyrrex hissed, his voice wet with blood. "You... are n...ot getting... away."
Two more tentacles ripped through the back of Zyrrex's coat, writhing like angry snakes. They lashed out at Ato mercilessly. Ato moved on instinct, his "Beast" reflexes saved him as he twisted and flipped through the air, the black limbs whistling past his ears. But Zyrrex wasn't just aiming for Ato. One tentacle swerved, aiming straight for the unconscious Faramis.
"No!" Ato screamed. He abandoned his defense, diving through the path of a strike to scoop Faramis into his arms.
He didn't stop to check a pulse. He tucked the scientist's head against his chest and began to run. The weight made him slower, his muscles screaming in protest. Behind him, he heard the sound of Zyrrex drawing in a ragged, terrifying breath.
"Abyss Needles!" Zyrrex shrieked.
Five tentacles sharpened at the tips into needle-like points, charging toward Ato's back. Ato danced between them, his heart hammering against his ribs. Left. Right. Pivot. He was dodging with everything he had, but the exhaustion was a physical weight. Suddenly, his foot caught on a jagged piece of the throne. A tentacle struck—not a killing blow, but a cruel swipe at his ankle.
Ato's leg buckled. He slammed into the ground, the impact jarring his teeth. Faramis slipped from his grip, rolling across the cold stone until he came to a stop, limp and silent.
"Faramis!" Ato reached out, his fingers inches away.
"Now... 100 Strikes!" Zyrrex's shadow loomed over him.
Ato couldn't get his guard up in time. The air became a blur of black impacts. Each strike hit like a sledgehammer, slamming into Ato's ribs, his shoulders, his back. He coughed up crimson, his vision flickering to black as he was pinned to the earth by the sheer weight of the assault.
The Fallen Royalty
The scene shifts to the edge of the castle gardens, where the air was cold and smelled of iron.
Vlad moved with a terrifying, fluid grace, his hands swinging like sharpened obsidian blades. Lemon was a blur of movement, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he danced on the edge of death.
"Naraku Ken: Kaigi no Agiko!" Lemon shouted, channeling every ounce of his remaining energy into a palm strike.
The hit connected, launching Vlad high into the sky. For a split second, Lemon allowed himself a spark of hope. He braced himself to finish it. "Naraku Ken—"
"Obsidian Thousand Blows," a cold voice whispered from above.
Vlad didn't fall; he plummeted like a meteor. The ground vanished in a mountainous explosion of dust and debris. When the wind finally cleared the air, the sight was devastating. Lemon was still standing, but his royal silks were shredded, hanging off his frame in bloody rags. Blood leaked from his forehead, his arms, his chest. His eyes were open, but they were vacant. He was standing unconscious, held up only by the sheer stubbornness of his soul.
"I... will... not... give u...p," Lemon's voice was a ghost of a whisper.
Then, his knees hit the stone. He collapsed face-first. Vlad landed softly nearby, not even breathing hard. He didn't even look back at the fallen prince.
"This kingdom is doomed," Vlad said, his voice dripping with boredom. "They don't even have good fighters left to entertain me."
The Tiger's Last Stand
Deep in the heart of the palace corridors, Kojo Ren was fighting a different kind of war.
Gale stood at the end of the hallway, his sword dripping with Kojo's blood. "You are losing too much blood, swordsman. If this keeps up, your heart will stop before my blade even touches you."
Kojo spit a glob of blood to the side, his hand trembling as he gripped the hilt of Tenko. "Don't... worry about me... I can... handle a little scratch."
"Then so be it," Gale replied.
"Abyss Rush!" Gale became a streak of grey light. He slammed into Kojo with the force of a tidal wave. Kojo felt his ribs crack, the air leaving his lungs in a pained wheeze. Blood sprayed against the wall, but instead of falling, Kojo planted his feet.
"GO BACK!" Kojo roared, the sound echoing off the high ceilings.
Using the last of his physical strength, he shoved Gale back. The two swordsmen stared at each other for a heartbeat.
"Tiger's Wrath!" Kojo lunged.
The hallway became a storm of steel. The clashing of Kojo's blades against Gale's unknown, dark material created sparks that lit up the dark corridor like lightning. Every blow sent shockwaves through the floor, creating deep fissures in the ancient stone. Kojo was swinging like a madman, his "Tiger" aura flickering and fading, then roaring back to life.
"Haaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Kojo's battle cry was primal, born of the hellish training he had endured on his home island.
Gale blocked a overhead strike, his eyes narrowing as he felt the desperate power behind it. A creepy, jagged smile spread across his face. "You are interesting, Kojo Ren. Most men would have died ten minutes ago."
Gale twisted his blade, parrying Kojo's sword into the floor and preparing a counter-strike that glowed with a dark, abyssal light. The pressure in the hallway reached a breaking point. The air itself seemed to scream—and then, a massive explosion rocked the entire palace.
The walls groaned, the floor tilted, and—