The night sky stretched vast above the island, a shimmering sea of stars glowing under the moon's pale light, casting a silver sheen across the restless ocean below. The air crackled with raw tension, charged by the relentless energy of our battle. I stood on the shattered concrete, my black coat dusted with rubble, its purple seams glinting faintly in the moonlight. My dark aura pulsed steadily, tendrils of shadow curling around the sleek black sword in my hand, which I held upright in front of my face, my stance steady and my smirk sharp.
Across from me, Alaric emerged from the crater I'd slammed him into, his red aura blazing like a wildfire, his alien-like features—sharp cheekbones, faintly glowing skin—twisted with fury. His red eyes glowed with murderous intensity, blood still staining his cheek, his massive jagged sword clutched tightly, its crimson energy pulsing menacingly.
