⚔️ Scene: "A battleground near a nice forestry community park"
The Fallen One watches the Dark Lord vanish from his strike.
The crowd gasps. The camera static buzzes. Velrise narrows her eyes. And watches as:
He breathes in—slowly—then retracts his sword.
"May the heavens... forgive your degeneracy."
With a single, ceremonial slash downward—
SLAAASH! The Dark Lord's severed arm twitches violently—then clones itself.
The clone forms an exact replica, a perfect double of the lost limb.
With a fluid, almost unnatural motion, he lifts his fallen arm and gently places it over the clone's arm.
A low rumble resonates—a pulse like the one from his teleport trick.
Suddenly—a blinding beam bursts forth, shooting at the swirling wind barrier that's been encasing the Fallen One.
The gusts of slashes waver under the intense light. The Fallen One wastes no time—his sword reverts from its wind form, coalescing back into solid steel at his side.
With a swift slash, he aims at the Kage standing near the edge of the arena.
Kage leaps away just in time, dodging with feline grace, then rushes forward to close the gap. Before Kage can strike, the Fallen One reveals another weapon—a set of glowing chains coiling like serpents from his cloak.
With practiced precision, the chains lash out, wrapping tightly around the Kage's torso. Kage's form dissolves into smoke—a clone flickers in his place.
From the mist emerge four identical Kage's, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent.
They launch a coordinated jump tackle Two of the clones manage to pin the Fallen One.
He grunts but doesn't panic.
With brutal efficiency, he strikes:
One clone's gut takes a heavy punch.
The other is struck sharply in the head.
Then, with explosive power, the Fallen One executes a roundhouse kick—launching himself into a backflip.
The motion slams into the ground, and with a shattering impact, the clones disappear in a burst of shadow. Rising quickly, the Fallen One swings his sword again—this time, it transforms into a massive cage, its bars shimmering with energy.
With precision, he traps the Dark Lord inside.
He leans in, voice cold and confident:
"You're going to love prison." "This is disgusting."
Kage's eyes glowed red for a flash—
—and then he vanished into black ash, like a snuffed-out flame carried by a silent gust of wind.
Gasps rolled through the gathered crowd of stick-figures. Some stood up from the arena edges. Others leaned forward, uncertain if this was part of the show… or the start of something worse.
The Fallen One exhaled long and hard, sheathing his blade across his back.
"I guess…" he murmured, voice heavy with exhaustion, "…it's not over."
His cape fluttered once as he turned around, stepping past the empty cuffs still lying on the dirt like failed chains.
He faced the crowd, his sharp gaze scanning the sea of faces. Worry. Awe. Some fear.
But mostly… silence.
"You can all go home now."
His voice wasn't loud, but it didn't need to be. It carried. It commanded.
One by one, the crowd began to disperse—stick figures disappearing into their glowing teleport trails, whispering to one another, leaving behind dust and questions.
Only a few remained: silent figures watching him from shadows.
Not cheering. Not questioning. Just… watching.
And somewhere beneath the arena floor, the space where the Dark Lord had vanished still pulsed faintly—like something had been left behind.
Unfinished.