The battlefield was a churning vortex of wings, iron, and blinding divinity.
Angels streaked across the firmament like shards of fallen stars, their plumage shedding trails of white brilliance. Black dragons rose to meet them, shadows twisting against the radiance, their roars fracturing the clouds. Below, the earth groaned under the weight of a million collisions.
Bengie walked through the heart of the storm.
His emerald aura flickered around him like a cold, hungry flame. His silver longsword rested loosely in his grip, the metal drinking in the green reflection of his power.
An angel lunged, spear leveled at his throat. Bengie didn't even offer it a glance. He swung once. A clean, silent arc of jade light unzipped the air, and the celestial dissolved into harmless motes of white. No screams. No impact. Just light fading into the wind.
"Dull," Bengie muttered.
Another diver shrieked down from the sun. Bengie pivoted, his aura flaring into a supernova, and the creature vanished in a streak of emerald dust. He kept walking. His blade moved with the relaxed cadence of a dancer, a predator's precision in every stroke. Every swing left shimmering trails of green that erased reality wherever they touched.
Then—a fracture in the rhythm.
Through the fading glow of his last kill, a beam of pure, pressurized light screamed toward him.
Bengie's wings snapped open—massive, obsidian, and powerful. He launched upward with a thunderous crack that shook the atmosphere, the beam scorching the air where his heart had been a millisecond prior.
A new figure rose to meet him, ascending with the calm authority of a god.
Her armor was polished pearl, gleaming with a soft, dangerous luster. A massive white axe hummed in her hands, vibrating with divine frequency. Her hair was a banner of spun gold, and her blue eyes locked onto Bengie with a cold, assessing stare.
"A black dragon," she said, her voice a melody of smooth porcelain. "Your wings are exquisite. Truly. It's a pity I have to break them. I've always hated destroying things with such… aesthetic value."
Bengie blinked against the wind. "...Thanks?"
She didn't wait for a second word. She lunged.
The axe descended in a blinding arc of white fire. Bengie twisted, his aura shrieking as the strike missed him by a hair's breadth, the sheer force of the blow splitting the cloud layer beneath them. He countered with a jagged slash of green energy, but she spun the axe in a blurring wheel, deflecting the bolt with a ringing shockwave that rattled his very bones.
Bengie shot for the stratosphere, his wings beating a frantic tattoo. She followed instantly, a ghost of pearl and gold matching his velocity without effort.
They collided midair—emerald and white exploding in violent flashes that painted the sky. Bengie swung; she parried. She cleaved; he drifted. Their movements became a smear of color, streaks of jade and pearl weaving a tapestry of violence across the sky.
Bengie flipped backward, casting a wide crescent of green light. She cut through the center of it with a single, brutal swing, sending a ripple of white force back at him. He crossed his arms, his aura hardening into a crystalline shield, but the impact sent him tumbling into a tailspin.
He snapped his wings open to recover, but she was already there.
The axe descended like a falling star. Bengie caught the haft with both hands, his silver blade locked against the axe's glowing edge. His aura flared violently as he fought the downward momentum, the air screaming around them as they plummeted.
"Damn—you're actually strong!" Bengie grunted, the ground rushing up to meet them.
She smiled, a thin, dangerous line. "You haven't even seen the horizon yet."
With a twist of her hips, she kicked him away, the burst of white energy sending Bengie spiraling through the mist. He stabilized and dove back down, his aura trailing behind him like a comet's tail. She followed—a streak of divine lightning.
They spiraled toward the earth in a lethal double-helix, exchanging blows faster than the eye could track. Bengie slashed; she blocked. She swung; he ducked. He fired a beam; she batted it aside. She hurled a wave of white energy; he sliced it in half. They tore through the cloud layer, scattering the mist like smoke, then shot back upward into the high, cold sun.
Bengie's aura roared, turning a deep, incandescent green. He swung both hands forward, unleashing a tidal wave of jade. She crossed her axe, her wings straining as the emerald tide pushed her back, inch by agonizing inch.
Bengie pressed. His aura howled. She roared back, her divinity flaring to meet him. The sky trembled.
Then—she vanished.
Bengie's heart skipped a beat. She reappeared directly behind him, her axe already mid-swing. He twisted his torso, the blade grazing his aura with a shock that numbed his spine. He whirled, slashing upward in a desperate, jagged arc. She blocked, and sparks of green and white rained around them like dying stars.
Bengie's breathing was heavy now, his lungs burning.
"You're fraying," she noted calmly.
"Maybe," Bengie panted, his eyes glowing with fierce jade light, "but I'm still standing."
He launched himself one last time. She rose to meet him. He gathered every scrap of emerald energy into his silver blade; she channeled the sun into her axe.
They charged.
The sky went white.
Emerald and pearl collided in an atmospheric detonation that leveled the clouds for miles. Bengie pushed with everything he was. She pushed back, her eyes wide with the strain. Their weapons locked, energy crackling violently between them.
Bengie roared. His aura surged, turning dark and primal.
Her eyes widened in realization.
Bengie's silver blade found the gap. It pierced through her guard, through the pearl armor, and through her chest—a clean, silent strike. A massive eruption of white light burst from her form, her body dissolving into a cloud of radiant particles.
Her wings stalled. The axe slipped from her numb fingers.
They fell.
They hit the earth in a crater of dust and dying light. Bengie landed on one knee, his breath coming in ragged stabs, sweat stinging his eyes. He wasn't wounded, but the exhaustion was a physical weight.
The woman's form was already drifting upward, her essence scattering like fireflies in the wind.
Bengie let out a long, shaky exhale. "That… was actually a fight."
A shadow draped over the crater. A black dragon swooped down, the wind from its wings clearing the dust. It shifted mid-landing into a tall, muscular humanoid, reaching down to scoop Bengie up by the waist.
"Got you," the dragon said.
Bengie didn't resist. He went limp in the dragon's grip, letting himself be carried away as the roar of the battlefield finally began to fade.