Aetherion moved forward in a thrusting stance, his spear driving straight toward Pallas' heart.
Pallas reacted instantly, barely managing to dodge.
He leapt high into the air and retreated nearly a hundred meters away, landing with visible shock on his face.
He didn't understand…
How had this boy—the so-called son of Kronos—copied his technique so easily?
So effortlessly?
As if it meant nothing?
Aetherion saw it clearly.
He saw the disbelief.
He saw the cracks spreading even further.
Pallas' composure was slowly unraveling as he tried to comprehend what he had just witnessed.
Bit by bit, realization was setting in—that he was inferior.
Weaker.
Even if he refused to admit it.
'Alright. It's time to end this.'
Aetherion knew it.
He had copied Pallas' move flawlessly.
And made it into his own with the use of the star domain.
He had shown him that everything Pallas could do, he could do just as well—if not better.
And that realization was breaking him.
He could see it in his enemy's eyes.
…For the eyes never lie.
Aetherion understood that.
There was a move he had never used before—not on his allies, not even during training.
He had always been hesitant.
It was far too destructive.
He had feared destroying the island that served as their home.
But now?
Now he did not care.
He was in his own realm, and in this realm, he was free to do as he pleases, especially when the foe he's fighting is an enemy.
The man before him was an enemy.
One who would kill him without hesitation.
One who would drag him before Kronos in chains.
There was no reason to hold back.
He would kill him here.
Only a few minutes had passed since they both entered their divine forms, and yet within those minutes Aetherion had proven his superiority.
Though both were Titans, they were not built the same.
And so, Aetherion stopped playing.
Pallas mind was already in chaos.
He reengaged Pallas, moving through the star-filled realm he had created.
His eyes briefly flicked toward the stars surrounding them.
They would be the finishing touch.
Pallas steadied himself and took a stance as Aetherion approached.
They clashed again.
But this time, something was different.
They moved in perfect synchronicity.
Every strike Pallas attempted was mirrored.
Every feint was matched.
Every shift in footing was copied exactly.
It was as if he were fighting his own reflection.
Explosions echoed across the starry realm, yet neither gained ground.
No decisive cuts.
No advantage.
Pallas' unease grew.
Sweat trickled down his face.
His eyes trembled.
His lips quivered slightly.
He couldn't read him.
This boy—this abomination—was dismantling him without even overpowering him directly.
It wasn't brute force.
It was something worse.
Something precise.
Aetherion kept copying him, move for move, slowly breaking him down mentally.
And he enjoyed it.
Finally, he decided it was enough.
As their spears clashed once more, starlight grinding against divine flame, Aetherion leaned slightly closer and whispered into Pallas' ear:
"I believe it's time to end this fight… don't you?"
Pallas' eyes widened.
He immediately forced distance between them, retreating several steps.
Aetherion simply smiled.
His star-lit eyes shimmered with amusement—mischievous, confident, inevitable.
Pallas stared at him in confusion and weary, unable to understand what was about to happen.
Aetherion, without hesitation, raised both of his hands toward Pallas.
During his training, he had always been curious about his Star Domain.
From his previous life—especially from the anime and shows he used to watch—stars had always been portrayed as something mysterious and powerful.
Cool abilities.
Cataclysmic forces.
And he had remembered something in particular.
Nova.
Supernova.
When a star dies, it explodes—an eruption so violent it can outshine entire galaxies.
An explosion powerful enough to destroy everything nearby.
So Aetherion had tried to recreate that concept within his Star Domain.
By summoning stars into his realm and forcing them into instability—making them degenerate and collapse—he could trigger controlled stellar detonations.
He had theorized it and practice it a bit.
But he had never used it.
It was too destructive.
Too intense.
He couldn't risk using something like that near his allies.
If he miscalculated, they could die.
But now?
Pallas was the perfect guinea pig.
A slow smile curved Aetherion's lips.
Inside the Starry Realm he had created, every star began to shine brighter.
The ones near Pallas.
The ones floating overhead.
Even the distant ones scattered across the dark expanse.
Their light intensified.
The temperature began to rise.
Pallas felt it immediately.
His eyebrow twitched.
A bad feeling crept into his chest.
"What are you going to—"
Before he could finish, the stars started moving.
Slowly at first.
Then steadily.
They drifted toward him from every direction.
Pallas attempted to retreat—but it was meaningless.
In Aetherion's realm, there was nothing but stars.
They were everywhere.
Above him.
Below him.
Around him.
One brushed too close—
And detonated.
A small burst of stellar force scorched his side, burning through his defenses.
Yet the star remained afterward, as if it had only flared—like a contained nova.
But this…
This was different.
Pallas could feel it.
Every star in the realm was becoming unstable.
They weren't just flaring.
They were going to explode.
Sweat formed along his back.
Fear slowly spread across his face.
Aetherion, calm and almost gentle, smiled at him.
There was a strange kindness in it.
A terrifying clarity.
He spoke softly.
[Star Domain… Supernova Chains Explosions.]
And then—
All the stars detonated.
Not one.
Not several.
All of them.
A chain reaction rippled across the realm as countless stellar explosions ignited in succession, overlapping, compounding, amplifying.
The light and flames swallowed everything.
Pallas had no time to react.
He wrapped divine energy around his body, reinforcing himself desperately, bracing for impact.
The last thing he saw was Aetherion slowly lifting the scarf from around his neck.
A mischievous, gleeful smile spread across his face.
And through the blinding light, Pallas heard one final word—
"Checkmate."
Then the supernova consumed everything.