The sky cracked wider.
Not shattered—strained—as if Heaven itself were a ceiling bowing under too much weight.
Atlas and Ares tore through the remains of the arena like twin comets, shockwaves chasing them in rolling thunderclaps. What had once been Lower Heaven's grand coliseum was now nothing but a collapsing scar, slabs of divine stone spiraling into the void as gravity failed again and again under the pressure of their clash.
They collided midair.
Ares' fist slammed into Atlas's ribs.
This time—
Atlas felt it.
His body folded slightly around the blow, LAW screaming as divine force punched deeper than before. The impact sent him skidding backward across the sky, boots carving glowing lines through clouds as he arrested his momentum.
Ares didn't slow.
He was faster now.
Stronger.
Flames burned brighter, denser, layered—no longer just fire, but war given temperature and intent. His eyes burned like twin supernovas, every motion sharper, heavier, more certain.
