The figure stepped forward.
Once.
The stone beneath his boot did not crack.
It listened.
Then again.
The crater floor rippled outward in silent acknowledgement, light shivering across fractured rock like breath across water. Ash drifted downward in slow suspension, the world itself hesitating, as though uncertain whether it should continue.
A final step.
The figure raised his arms outward, palms open to the ruined sky.
Light answered.
His aura poured outward in a vast, radiant tide, washing across the crater floor in waves, racing up broken ridges, spilling into the wounds carved into the mountain. For a moment, the world was illuminated—not violently, not blindingly—but wholly, as if every scar of the land had been gently revealed.
Then the figure drew his hands inward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
As if gathering the world back into himself.
One hand over the other—
index crossing middle finger,
thumb touching ring finger—
A prayer.
The light receded, flowing back toward him, compressing, condensing, tightening into a burning presence that wrapped his body like a second skin. His aura expanded again—not outward this time, but upward, surging, climbing, charging, as though his very existence were drawing breath.
The crater trembled.
Amaterasu watched.
"So," the Great Dragon said, voice low, reverent despite himself. "You would turn this battle into one of willpower."
Black flame coiled tighter around his form.
"Though I suppose," he continued, ancient eyes narrowing, "every conflict is merely the expression of one's will facing another. Don't you agree, light bearer!?"
Amaterasu inhaled.
The volcano screamed.
Flames warped and contorted along the cavern walls, magma rising unnaturally high as black fire wrapped around the Dragon's scales like living armor. Yet even as his presence surged—vast, crushing, absolute—it did not spill outward.
It contained itself.
Folded inward.
The mountain became a seal.
Whether to shield the world…
or to brace for what was coming…
Only the Dragon knew.
The figure looked up.
Light danced quietly around him now, restrained, disciplined. His gaze softened—not weak, not uncertain, but resigned.
"Forgive me, Amaterasu," he said.
The Dragon paused.
"I did not want it to be you."
They stood facing one another—
light and flame—
stillness before annihilation.
Amaterasu's lips curled faintly.
In all my millennia, he thought, I have never encountered a will quite like this. To reject the very world itself, that is why he has returned to face me. He seeks truth…
Perhaps…
Perhaps he truly can change things. To think a lesser would be able to push me this far.
Allow me then Prima, to respond in kind to these heart felt emotions of yours.
The Dragon moved first.
He unleashed it.
The largest breath he had ever drawn.
Black flame erupted in a single, concentrated torrent—so dense it bent the air into mirage, so hot it rivaled the hearts of stars. Light warped and twisted around it, distorting reality itself as the blast tore through the volcano, devouring the space before it.
The figure did not move.
He stood calmly, hand sign still formed, aura flickering once—then dimming.
As the flames swallowed him whole, the figure opened his mouth.
And whispered—
"Brujería."
Light disappeared.
Completely.
The volcano was consumed.
Stone, lava, flame—everything whittled away into nothingness as silence overtook the battlefield. The black fire roared… then faltered… then thinned.
Amaterasu's eyes widened.
There—
within the haze—
The figure stood.
Unmoving.
Untouched.
The serpent's eyes closed gently.
Amaterasu felt it then.
Release.
Millennia rushed through him—not memories, not visions—but thoughts, unraveling, drifting away like ash in still air. The weight of ages lifted. The vigilance. The endless watch.
His body descended.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Returning to the same coiled posture it had held for centuries, as if lying down to rest.
The flames extinguished.
The volcano fell silent.
From afar—those few who yet lived—saw only stillness. No explosion. No roar. No triumph.
Just absence.
The Great Dragon was dead.
And the night stood still.