The battlefield was chaos.
The ground itself had become a crater-ridden warzone, energy blasts shaking the sky as rubble rained down like hail.
Trunks charged forward first, golden aura flaring so bright it lit the ruins. His sword gleamed as he swung in rapid arcs, each strike accompanied by bursts of ki. Sparks flew whenever 17 intercepted with his forearms, the sound of metal and spirit colliding echoing across the ruined city.
"Persistent," 17 sneered, blocking another strike before snapping a knee upward.
Trunks twisted, narrowly avoiding the blow, then countered with a ki blast at point-blank range.
BOOM!
The explosion engulfed them both in smoke. When it cleared, 17 emerged unscathed, brushing off his jacket. "Is that all? For a so-called Super Saiyan, you're a disappointment."
Trunks grit his teeth, aura roaring louder. "Don't underestimate me!"
Meanwhile, Rudra's duel with 18 intensified. Her strikes were like lightning—precise, efficient, deadly. She moved with perfect grace, every attack calculated to kill. Rudra matched her blow for blow, his aura shimmering like a living shield, redirecting her force outward with each parry.
She snapped a kick at his head. Rudra leaned aside, then struck her ribs with two fingers glowing with prana. A shockwave rippled through her, forcing her back a step.
Her eyes narrowed. "That… hurt."
"Good," Rudra said, voice calm but sharp. "It means even machines have limits."
18's expression darkened. With a burst of speed, she vanished—reappearing behind Rudra and launching a flurry of blows too fast for most eyes to follow. Rudra's hands blurred as he parried, redirecting the momentum in circular motions, his breathing steady, his energy flowing in rhythm with each movement.
At the same time, 17 rushed Trunks again. The two clashed midair, sword against fists. Each collision cracked the sky with shockwaves. Trunks roared, unleashing a sudden explosion of ki from his body, forcing 17 back for the first time.
"Not bad," 17 admitted, wiping dust from his cheek. "But you'll still lose."
Trunks pointed his blade at him. "We'll see about that."
Back on the ground, Rudra spread his arms wide. His aura expanded, pulling invisible threads of power into him—Shakti Sanchalan ( Flow Of Energy ). The earth trembled as if resonating with his will, and his body glowed brighter, every muscle alive with boundless energy.
18 scoffed. "Pretty light show."
She raised her hand, charging a massive ki blast, the glow reflecting in her cold eyes.
Rudra didn't flinch. He drew the gathered prana into his palm, condensing it into a rotating sphere of energy—dense, crackling, dangerous.
The two released their attacks simultaneously.
BOOOOOOM!
The collision tore the landscape apart. Entire blocks of the ruined city disintegrated, the shockwave flattening anything still standing. Dust clouds rose into the sky, turning day into twilight.
Through the smoke, two silhouettes emerged—Rudra, steady but breathing heavily, and 18, dust covering her but otherwise unharmed.
She smirked. "You'll tire. I won't."
Rudra's calm gaze didn't waver. "Then I'll end this before fatigue matters."
Above them, Trunks and 17 clashed again, faster, harder, more desperate. Sparks lit the sky like fireworks, their roars echoing like thunder.
The true storm had only begun.
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