The scene unfolds within the remnants of an ancient temple, a relic of bygone eras nestled in seclusion. Its once-majestic walls are etched with the passage of time, adorned with carvings that whisper tales of a forgotten past. The ground, a mosaic of cracked stones, is littered with aged books, their bindings cracked and pages yellowed. Amidst these relics of knowledge, a glowing red crystal hovers, a beacon of enigmatic power. It pulsates with an energy that seems to breathe life into the temple's dormant air, casting an otherworldly glow that dances across the stone.
The camera narrows its focus to a singular book that, as if summoned by an unseen will, levitates and unfurls. Its pages, filled with the wisdom and secrets of millennia, flutter rapidly before coming to rest on a specific entry. This page, illuminated by the crystal's glow, chronicles the lore of Sukojo, known in whispered legends as the Embodiment Of Curses. The script, ancient and intricate, details Sukojo's mastery over curses that bend the will of the cosmos, etching his name into the annals of history as a being of unparalleled power.
The text reveals the nature of Sukojo's most formidable curse, the Fearful Maggot, a force capable of penetrating the defenses of any entity, rendering the concepts of distance and power moot. This curse, it explains, has the terrifying ability to extend across the realms of existence, life, and death, ensnaring victims in a grip from which there is no escape.
Adjacent to this, a depiction of the Heavenly Slice technique is outlined, a testament to Sukojo's dominion over the celestial. This technique, born of the Fearful Maggot curse, wields the power to cleave the heavens themselves, a feat that symbolizes the ultimate mastery over the fabric of reality.
As the book gently closes, the camera retreats, ascending through the temple's ruins and beyond, breaking the confines of the earthly realm to reveal the vast expanse of the cosmos.
In the grand continuum of the cosmos, where the fabric of reality is woven from the threads of countless dimensions, a pantheon of curses and mystical techniques has emerged. Among these, Divine Curses resonate with the divine fury of ancient deities, Hellsplit Curses emanate from the unfathomable depths of infernal despair, and Overworld Curses cloak the terrestrial realms in veils of ominous shadow and foreboding silence. Yet, amidst this vast array of dark enchantments, one curse stands unparalleled in its potency and dread reach: Sukojo's Curse, known among the whispered legends as the Fearful Maggot.
The Fearful Maggot transcends the mere concept of a curse; it is an existential blight that challenges the very foundations of reality, life, and the afterlife. It holds the terrifying power to breach the defenses of any entity, obliterating the notions of distance, sanctuary, and might with indiscriminate precision. This curse does not merely afflict its victims with physical torment; it invades the psyche, unraveling the essence of being, leaving behind nothing but desolation and despair.
Central to the Fearful Maggot's arsenal of darkness is the Heavenly Slice, a technique so profoundly destructive that it can cleave the celestial vault itself. More than a mere attack, the Heavenly Slice is an affront to the cosmos, a force capable of rending the fabric of the heavens, challenging the immutable laws that govern the universe. This apocalyptic power speaks of Sukojo's mastery over the curse, a testament to his unparalleled status as a being whose might extends beyond the mortal coil, threatening the balance of existence itself.
Thus, the Fearful Maggot stands not merely as a curse but as a symbol of ultimate power and annihilation, feared by gods and demons alike. Its very existence is a curse to Sukojo's dominion over life, death, and all that lies beyond, casting a long shadow across the realms, a dark legacy that resonates through eternity.
At the heart of a grand, sunlit arena, Leona is the embodiment of grace and ferocity. Each stroke of her purple katana cuts the air, trailing a vibrant purple aura that dances like flames in her wake. The scene is a captivating display of skill, her movements fluid and precise, harmonizing the art of the sword with the unseen rhythms of battle. The training session, intense and focused, comes to an abrupt pause as Leona senses an observer. With a swift turn, her gaze meets the camera, and she resumes her dance of blades, only to catch a glimpse of a familiar figure from the corner of her eye.
Dark stands at the edge of the arena, his presence like a shadow cast over the ground. His expression is a chilling void of emotion, yet his eyes, seemingly empty, hold a piercing intensity that seems to reach directly into Leona's soul. The sight of him, so unexpected and intense, draws tears from Leona's eyes, a reaction that speaks volumes of their shared past and the complexities of their bond.
From across the distance, Dark's voice carries a weighty message, his words echoing through the arena.
Dark: Train hard, the day will come where you're going to have to fight for your life.
Leona, her voice breaking with emotion, responds to the figure that has haunted her thoughts.
Leona: Dark...I'm sorry.....
In a display of agility and power, Dark leaps from his vantage point atop the arena, descending like a specter of the night. His landing is soft, a testament to his control and strength, as he casually tucks his hands into his pockets and approaches Leona.
Dark's words to Leona carry a mix of reprimand and regret, hinting at deeper layers of their relationship and the choices that have led them to this moment.
Dark: Maybe if you had a heart you wouldn't have left me while I was in my awakening phase.
Their exchange is cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps, drawing their attention away. As they turn, and the camera with them, the intruders are revealed, Ningin and One, each bearing the mark of their own distinct natures. Ningin, ever the embodiment of raw power and readiness, prepares himself with a casual fist bump and a crack of his neck. One, in contrast, wears a smirk that speaks of confidence and schemes yet unveiled.
Dark's reaction is immediate, his eyes widening as he instinctively draws the Kyuketsu, stepping back in unison with Leona. The tension is palpable, a prelude to a confrontation that promises to test their bonds, their strength, and perhaps the very fate of the realms they inhabit.
Leona: Wh-who..are they?...
Dark: (thinking) Tch...two of them against me? Leona is useless when it comes to city level threats and beyond....
Dark: (thinking) Gotta calm myself down....gotta lock in....
Dark slowly calms down, his heart beating so slow and relaxed, while Leona is confused just looking at Ningin and One walking closer and closer towards them.
One: Ningin, take the trash girl, I'll take Dark.
Ningin: Khakhaa as you wish.
Ningin surged forward, his movement warping the air around him, as he reached out to grasp Leona. However, in a flash of steel, Dark's katana sliced cleanly through Ningin's hand, severing it with a chilling precision. Ningin's gaze snapped towards Dark, just in time to see a furious punch connect with his face. The impact sent him hurtling backward, crashing into the ground with a force that echoed through the arena.
Undeterred, Dark executed a swift turn, pushing Leona aside to evade an incoming blade. With a fluid, tornado-like spin, he retaliated, his katana slicing through One's throat in a spray of crimson. Yet, One, driven by a wild, unhinged fury, managed to seize Dark mid-air. The force of One's grasp was unstoppable, slamming Dark into the ground with such power that the entire arena fractured, spider-webbing in quarters under the strain of their titanic clash.
Grounded yet undaunted, Dark seized One's hand, dragging him down in a swift, calculated maneuver. With a deft thrust, he plunged the Kyuketsu into One's neck, causing a vivid arc of blood to splatter. In a fluid motion, Dark unleashed a powerful kick, propelling One high into the air. Without a moment's hesitation, he dashed towards Leona, now under attack by Ningin, determined to intervene.
Dark: (thinking) Tch, two on one...I have plenty of stamina but I'll run out of breath if no one helps me....
Closing the distance in an instant, Dark positioned himself squarely in front of Leona, intercepting Ningin's attack. With a decisive grip, he caught Ningin's razor-sharp fingers, applying a crushing pressure that elicited the sound of bones cracking. In a fluid, practiced motion, Dark yanked Ningin closer, only to deliver a punishing kick to his neck. Continuing the momentum with a 360 spin, he utilized his other leg for a powerful roundhouse kick to Ningin's face, propelling him back to the ground with a forceful impact.
As Dark turned to reassess the battlefield, it seemed he was a moment too late. One's blade was already slicing through the air towards his neck. In a display of reflexes bordering on the impossible, Dark caught One's blade between his hands, diverting its deadly path. With a swift upward toss of the blade, he followed with a precise kick to its handle, sending it hurtling towards One's face. The impact sent One staggering backward, dust swirling up from the ground as Dark's foot made contact, a clear demonstration of his mastery and strength even when caught off guard.
Dark: (thinking) Damn it that was close....
Dark: (thinking) Come on damn it why is this so exhausting....
With a swift motion, Dark holsters the Kyuketsu on his back, moving with a predator's grace towards Ningin. Seizing him by the arm, Dark employs his formidable strength, hurling Ningin upwards into the air. In that breathless moment, One's blade slices through the space where Dark's neck had been mere seconds before. Reacting with a gasp, Dark springs into the air, narrowly evading the lethal attack.
Mid-leap, Dark unleashes the Kyuketsu with deadly accuracy, sending it spinning towards Ningin. The blade finds its mark, piercing through Ningin's head with a grim finality. As gravity claims him, Dark descends upon One, seizing his head in a vice grip and brutally smashing it into the unforgiving surface of a nearby rock.
Landing with the agility of a cat, Dark retrieves the Kyuketsu in a fluid motion, distancing himself from the fray. His eyes then lock onto Leona, his next move calculated and swift as he moves to her side, ready for whatever comes next in the tumultuous battle.
Dark: Stamina...I need....stam-...ina....
As Dark collapses to the ground, his gaze pierces forward, and he witnesses a new, menacing threat: two demons, or perhaps devils, whose presence dwarfs those he's faced before. These formidable entities lead an entire squad, marching in unison towards him and Leona, their intentions malevolent and clear.
A scream of pain and defiance tears from Dark's throat as he forces himself to stand, battling against the overwhelming urge to succumb to his injuries. His fingers tighten around the Kyuketsu, a lifeline amidst the chaos. His eyes ignite with a fierce, unwavering resolve, a smoky aura billowing from them, as well as his mouth, casting him in an otherworldly light. Around him, his aura intensifies, expanding with the raw energy of his determination and the untapped depths of his power, ready to face the approaching darkness.
Dark: Damn it...
As Dark steadies himself, the air thickens with an ominous energy. From the horizon, five more figures emerge, each a superior demon, their forms commanding and distinct, heralding an escalation in the confrontation.
The first of these demons towers above the others, its skin a labyrinth of crimson and obsidian scales, eyes glowing like molten gold. Massive wings, veined and tattered, stretch from its back, casting imposing shadows.
Beside it strides a demon cloaked in shadows, its presence a cold void that seems to swallow the light. Its eyes, void of color, pierce through the darkness, and its hands, ending in razor-sharp talons, promise swift, merciless death.
The third, an amalgam of beast and demon, boasts a muscular, leonine body, with a mane of blue flames. Its roar shakes the ground, and its breath, a visible plume of frost, chills the very air.
A sleek, serpentine demon slithers forth, its scales shimmering with a spectral iridescence. Its face is hauntingly beautiful, framed by a crown of venomous spines, and its gaze hypnotizes, promising despair.
The fifth demon is a towering figure of iron and fire, its body a fusion of molten metal and flesh. It moves with a clanking, mechanical gait, its eyes burning coals in a face of twisted metal, and its voice a symphony of grinding gears and belching flames.
As this formidable ensemble positions itself, more demons emerge from the left and right, each unique, a testament to the dark diversity of their realm. They form a legion.
Dark: (thinking) The hell? Where are they coming from....
Dark looks at Leona.
Dark: (thinking) Damn it...only if Suk—...
Dark: (thinking) Time to rely on myself.
In an abrupt shift from the battlefield's chaos, where Dark valiantly confronts an army of formidable demons, we transition to a serene setting within a cozy cafe. Here, Sukojo is found immersed in tranquility, a stark contrast to the earlier scene of strife. Seated with his legs elegantly crossed, he enjoys a leisurely moment, savoring his coffee, the very picture of calm and detachment from the world's tumult.
Opposite Sukojo, Cron takes his place, their arrangement at the table symbolizing a meeting of minds amidst the quietude.
Sukojo: What do you want?
Cron: Why would you come back now? After being a soul parting with Dark for 17 years and more, why come out now?
Sukojo: Would it make a difference if I told you why?
Cron: (thinking) Damn it this guy can never take anyone seriously can he??!!
Cron: Just tell me I need to know.
Sukojo: Hmm.
Sukojo looks at Cron and smirks.
Sukojo: No.
Cron's fist descends upon the table with a ferocious intensity, the impact instantly shattering the wood beneath. The once serene scene erupts into chaos as Sukojo's coffee, along with other items previously resting on the table, are sent plummeting towards the ground. The sound of splintering wood mingles with the clatter of the coffee cup and other objects as they collide with the floor, scattering debris and staining it with coffee.
Sukojo: Oi, don't do that again, you dropped my coffee.
Cron rises from his seat, the tension in his frame palpable. Without a word, he turns and strides out of the cafe, leaving the aftermath of his outburst behind him.
In the sudden quiet that follows, Sukojo breaks into laughter, the sound rich and unbothered, filling the space Cron vacated. As his laughter echoes in the cafe, the scene gently fades out.
Transitioning smoothly, the focus shifts to Tier, engrossed in the meticulous task of constructing a new device. The details of this device suggest complexity and purpose, with Tier's hands moving with skilled precision, assembling components into a promising new invention.
Tier: What a pain in the ass, Leona is training, Dark is, i don't know what.
Tier pauses, leaning back from his work. His gaze drifts to the wall, taking in a moment of rest. The intensity of his focus shifts from the device to the blank expanse before him, perhaps seeking inspiration, reflection, or a momentary escape from the demands of his creation.
Tier: I wonder, what am I living life for?
Tier: Is life worth living anymore....
With a sudden burst of laughter, Tier breaks the silence. The sound marks a moment of levity or perhaps a breakthrough in his thoughts. Shaking off the moment of rest, he stands back up, reinvigorated. With renewed energy and a smile still lingering on his face, he returns to his work on the device, his movements now infused with a light-hearted determination.
Tier: I'll keep building more devices because it's what I want to do haha.
Tier's work is momentarily interrupted by a deep sigh, signaling a transition back to the heart of the action where Dark stands, surrounded by a veritable sea of demons and devils. Each creature bears a mark of their rank, creating a hierarchy of threat with some towering above the rest, others holding the line, and yet more swarming in from the lower echelons.
The arena, once filled with sand, is now unrecognizable, a testament to the ferocity of the battle that has unfolded. No longer a mere fighting ground, it has transformed into a desolate landscape of destruction. Craters dot the surface where powerful blows have landed, and the sand has been scorched and blasted away, leaving behind jagged rocks and fissures that weave through the ground like scars.
In the midst of this chaos, Dark is a whirlwind of lethal precision. His fists and feet are just the beginning; he weaves dark magic into his assaults, casting spells that summon shadows to bind, blades of dark energy that slice through ranks, and voids that swallow enemies whole. Each movement is a deadly dance, annihilating the demons and devils one by one, his power unwavering against the endless tide.
However, the tide turns momentarily as Ningin, with undiminished malice, suddenly appears before Dark. A powerful kick from Ningin sends Dark flying backward, a momentary lapse that the horde exploits ruthlessly. They leap onto him, their numbers overwhelming, tearing at his clothes and flesh.
Caught in the onslaught, Dark gasps, blood spilling from his mouth, to his previous dominance. The sight of him, wounded and vulnerable, marks a pivotal moment in the relentless battle.
One: Moron, die you little shit head, know your place.
Dark: AAAAAAAAAA!!!!
With a fierce, war-torn scream tearing from his throat, Dark summons the last reserves of his strength. He swings the Kyuketsu with devastating precision and force, cutting through the air and the demons and devils alike. Each swing cleaves his attackers in half, their numbers dwindling under the sheer ferocity and power of his blade. The Kyuketsu, imbued with dark energy, leaves a trail of destruction in its wake, a testament to Dark's resolve and prowess in combat.
Meanwhile, Leona stands at a distance, her gaze fixed on the tumultuous scene unfolding before her. The intensity of the battle, highlighted by Dark's defiant stand against overwhelming odds, paints a picture of desperation and fierce determination. Leona's expression, caught between concern and awe, reflects the gravity of the situation and the undeniable strength of her comrade.
Leona: (thinking) Dark....doing all this...to keep me safe.....
Dark: DIE DIE DIE DDIIIIIEEEE!!!!!
As Dark's fury intensifies, so too does his aura. It becomes a palpable force around him, dark and tempestuous, swirling with the raw energy of his anger and determination. This aura grows exponentially, a visual representation of his escalating rage, enveloping him in a cloak of shadow that seems almost alive. The air around him crackles with the power of his emotions, the ground beneath his feet quivering in response to the surging energy.
In a display of unmatched power, Dark raises the Kyuketsu and brings it down upon the ground with monumental force, not once but multiple times. Each strike sends shockwaves through the arena, the earth responding with cracks that spread like spiderwebs, a testament to his strength and desperation.
Then, in a moment fraught with tension and disbelief, the Kyuketsu shatters. The indestructible blade, pushed beyond its limits, fractures as it makes contact with Ningin's head. Time seems to freeze in that instant, the world holding its breath as the impossible occurs. Dark's eyes widen in sheer astonishment, reflecting the gravity of the moment. This pause in time captures the shock and realization dawning in Dark's eyes, a pivotal moment that marks the shattering of not just the Kyuketsu, but perhaps the tide of the battle itself.
Dark: (thinking) Huh?....where did he?-...come from?...
Ningin's laughter, chilling and triumphant, fills the air as he delivers a decisive blow. His fist connects with Dark's neck with brutal precision, the impact resonant and powerful. The force of the punch is so immense that it sends Dark reeling, his body lifted off the ground and hurtled backward into the air.
The moment of impact is a vivid display of raw power, Ningin's strength manifesting in the sheer force with which he strikes. Dark's expression contorts with the sudden, intense pain of the hit, his body involuntarily arching as he's propelled away. The air around them seems to ripple with the energy of the blow, a testament to the force behind Ningin's attack.
As Dark flies backward, his trajectory marked by a trail of disturbed air and dust, the severity of the situation becomes painfully clear. The battle, already intense, has escalated to a new level of ferocity with Ningin's laughter echoing ominously over the field, marking this moment as a significant shift in the tide of their conflict.
Dark: (thinking) The hell? Where did that hit come from?-...
As Dark, propelled through the air by the force of Ningin's punch, desperately reaches out to arrest his flight, his fingers claw into the ground, seeking purchase. This moment of vulnerability is swiftly exploited. One emerges, a devious smile playing across his face, embodying both triumph and malice. With a calculated strike, he delivers a powerful slap to Dark's side.
The impact of this assault is monumental, echoing through the arena with a force that resonates far beyond the physical. It's so potent that it not only sends Dark spiraling further but also shatters the ground around him, a testament to the devastating power One wields. The shockwave from the hit fractures the earth, creating a web of destruction that mirrors the sudden, acute pain shooting through Dark's body.
This brutal slap carries enough force to break Dark's right arm, the limb caught unnaturally under him as he's flung aside. The sound of bone cracking under the strain is almost lost amidst the cacophony of the shattering earth. Dark's grimace of pain and the stark angle of his arm reveal the severity of the injury, marking a dire turn in the battle's tide.
One: HAHAHAAAAA SOOO WEAK!!
Following the vicious slap, One, seizing the moment of Dark's incapacitation, delivers a ruthless kick to Dark's head, driving him further into the fractured earth. The violence of the act, stark and merciless, emphasizes the peril Dark is in.
Suddenly, the chaos of battle is suspended, as if the world itself holds its breath. Dark lies motionless, his breathing so faint it's barely perceptible, a whisper of life in the stillness that envelops the scene.
The perspective shifts, the camera rising to capture the scene from above, zooming in on Dark's form crumpled on the ground. The image of him, so still, paints a harrowing picture of vulnerability. His body is battered and broken, his right arm twisted unnaturally, a stark symbol of the battle's ferocity. Dark's face, partly buried in the debris of the shattered ground, is a mask of pain and exhaustion, his once fierce aura now a faint, flickering shadow.
Around him, the atmosphere is charged with tension, a palpable stillness that contrasts sharply with the preceding violence. The air is thick, heavy with the dust and the remnants of dark energy, painting a somber picture of desolation and despair. The battleground, scarred and ravaged, mirrors Dark's plight, a silent testament to the cost of this conflict. The scene, captured from above, is a poignant snapshot of the moment, Dark lying on the brink between life and death, the outcome hanging in the balance.
Dark: (thinking) Am I seriously going to die? Pfft I'm so pathetic.
Dark: (thinking) Time to get the hell up.
In a startling display of resolve, Dark musters the strength to move his left hand, reaching out to a rock lying within his grasp. His fingers close around it, gripping it with a determination born of desperation and sheer willpower. With an action that speaks volumes of his endurance and pain threshold, Dark uses the rock with his one good hand to smash into his right arm. The force he applies is unfathomable, fueled by adrenaline and the dire need to act.
The impact is gruesome yet deliberate, as he effectively rips his right arm from his body using nothing but the rock and an iron will. This act, so brutal in its necessity, is a testament to Dark's incredible strength and his willingness to endure unimaginable pain for the sake of survival or perhaps a strategic advantage in this relentless battle. The sound of bone and sinew giving way under the relentless force of the rock is a vivid reminder of the harsh realities of their conflict. Dark's face, set in a grimace of pain and determination, marks this moment as oneof both horror and awe at the lengths to which he will go to continue the fight.
Dark: GGGHHAAAAAAAA.
After severing his own arm, Dark tosses the rock aside. Overwhelmed by the intense pain, he clenches his remaining hand into a fist and slams it into the ground. The force of this action sends a shockwave through the shattered terrain, mirroring the tumultuous pain and frustration raging within him.
Dark: (thinking) WHAT THE HELL IS THIS ADRENALINE FLOWING IN AND OUT OF ME?!??
Dark: (thinking) All I need is more stamina and power to kill them all, and kill Ningin and One alongside the pathetic little demons.
With an incredible display of resilience, Dark begins to rise, using his remaining hand to push against the ground. Each movement is deliberate, a testament to his unwavering determination despite the severe pain and loss he's enduring. His ascent is gradual, a physical struggle against his own limitations, yet fueled by an indomitable spirit.
Dark: To do that I'm going to have to get rid of the ridiculous demons, so weak yet so powerful due to their number.
One: Eh?
Ningin: Is he schizophrenic?
One: Pfft no idea.
Ningin: He couldn't have possibly have Sukojo residing within him at this point now could he?
One: Nope, even if he did, we'd still win.
In a sudden shift, Dark's demeanor transforms as he starts laughing amidst the chaos of battle. This laughter, laced with both defiance and determination, echoes through the battleground as he engages the demons and devils. With remarkable agility and precision, he dispatches his foes with ease, each movement fluid and deadly. The demons fall one after another, overwhelmed by his renewed vigor and the unexpected surge of strength from within.
One and Ningin stand to the side, their expressions a mix of intrigue and caution. They watch Dark intently, observing as he methodically diminishes the ranks of their allies with a prowess that seems to have grown from his recent trials. They wait, a silent understanding between them that this is Dark's moment, a display of his resilience and power, before they make their next move.
Ningin: He's quite strong you know?
One: For a human? Yeah I've never met anyone with the same mindset and determination like his, maybe that Hero guy that came if you remember him.
One: But Dark is something else.
Ningin: Ah.
One: Oi Dark.
In the midst of his relentless assault, Dark pauses, his gaze locking onto One. Despite the evident exhaustion that marks his features, his eyes burn with a dark red glow, a stark reflection of his indomitable will. This visual intensity is contrasted with the palpable sense of his energy waning, yet paradoxically, his aura seems to swell, fueled by the very force of his spirit and the determination to overcome.
Holding the last demon in his grasp, Dark stands as a testament to resilience, caught in a moment that encapsulates his drained yet undeniably growing power. This duality speaks to the depth of his resolve, the physical toll of the battle etched into every line of his body, yet his presence more formidable than ever.
Dark: What?
One: If you're afraid to lose, then you don't deserve to win this battle.
As Dark's gaze shifts from One to the demon within his grasp, a moment of silence hangs between them. Then, with a fluidity and speed that blur the lines between motion and stillness, Dark and the demon pivot. In a flash, too quick for the eye to fully register, Dark slams the demon's head against the wall beside them. The impact is brutal, the force of it leaving no doubt as to the outcome, the demon's head crushed with devastating efficiency.
The sudden violence of the act marks a definitive end to the immediate threat. With the last demon dispatched, Dark comes to a halt, the tension of the moment lingering in the air. He then slowly turns to face One once more, his demeanor calm yet charged with the intensity of the battle's aftermath. Their eyes meet, a silent exchange fraught with unspoken challenges and acknowledgments, as the dust settles around them.
Dark: What?
One: You deaf or something?
Understood, I'll keep to your guidance more closely.
As Dark finishes his brutal assault, One and Ningin, unfazed by the carnage, start to laugh. Their laughter, devoid of any warmth, echoes amidst the aftermath of the battle, a sinister soundtrack to the violence that has unfolded. This reaction starkly underscores the ruthlessness of their world, where such displays of power and ferocity are met not with horror, but with amusement. The sound of their laughter, cold and mocking, pierces the tense air, a chilling reminder of the relentless cycle of conflict and the dark camaraderie shared among warriors accustomed to bloodshed.
Ningin: Hahahahaa he said, if you're afraid to lose, then you don't deserve to win this battle.
Dark: One, you betrayed me, I thought you were going to be a good friend or an ally, but no, you just wanted to use me.
Dark: Making me your puppet.
Dark begins his approach towards One, each step marked by the sound of cracking bones. His body betrays the toll of the battle, with visible twitches running through his limbs, a grim testament to the intensity of the fights he's endured. Blood drips from multiple wounds, tracing a macabre path behind him, yet his resolve remains undiminished. Despite the evident physical trauma, Dark's determination propels him forward, a haunting figure of resilience and unyielding spirit amidst the devastation.
Dark: Y-you.
As he speaks, Dark points dramatically at One, tilting his head downwards for emphasis.
Dark: Humiliated me you know.
Dark: Because of you, I don't know where the hell my home is.
Dark: I have no idea how I even came here to begin with.
Dark: No idea how I found Leona.
Dark tosses the Kyuketsu to the ground.
Dark: But you see, I don't care anymore.
One: Eh? You talk too much.
Dark: What if I talk too much? I'm just talkative person alright?
Dark: You're stronger than me right? You can kill me right now if you wanted to right?
One: Yeah.
Dark: Then let me talk, these are my last words okay?
One: Sure, why not.
Dark stops right in front of One.
They lock eyes, one filled with amusement, the other with ambivalence.
Dark: You, Sukojo, Ningin and Nekros....
Dark: Or, never mind Nekros was a worthy opponent, one that did not have insanely crazy powers that could destroy worlds or whatever.
Dark: It all started when I lost control of my anger and that's when Sukojo came out, that was when he awakened within.
One: Eh?
Dark: I lived a normal happy life, but just for it to be turned into a what? A fucking supernatural cosmic battle?
Dark: Whatever that crap means.
One: Ehhh?
Dark: No no...you know what....
Dark: I wish I never went through that damn forest, YOU KNOW WHAT?
Dark: IM ABOUT TO GO INSANE!!!
Dark: I WISH THAT I COULD HAVE A CHANCE TO RESTART MY WHOLE LIFE JUST BEFORE GOING THROUGH THAT DAMN FOREST!!!
One: (thinking) Ehh? What the hell is he on about?....
One and Ningin exchange a "what the hell" stare.
Dark: Someone please.....take me back to the good old days.....
Dark: (thinking) What am I even waiting for? Or wait no what are they waiting for? Just kill me already, end me from this madness.
Dark: (thinking) It's been....about 6 years.....
Dark: GOD WHY NOT JUST SEND ME SOMEONE THAT CAN RESTART MY WHOLE LIFE?!
Dark: I want to forget about this one.....
Ningin sighs.
Ningin: Oi, One?
One: Huh?
Ningin: What should we do?
One: Letting him go I guess....i feel bad...
Ningin, with a smirk that hints at his confidence, suddenly becomes a streak of light, his speed so extraordinary it seems to fracture the very air around him. The world blurs into indistinct lines as he propels himself forward, his blade aimed with lethal precision at Dark's face, the edge glinting with the promise of a fatal encounter.
In the split second before the blade can find its mark, Dark reacts with an intensity born of desperation and raw power. His hand shoots out, seizing the blade between his fingers with a grip that exudes an almost palpable force. The muscles in his arm stand out in stark relief, a visible sign of the immense pressure being applied. The standoff between Dark's unyielding strength and the blade's razor-sharp edge reaches a critical point, the air vibrating with the tension of this pivotal moment.
Under the incredible force exerted by Dark, the blade begins to succumb. Microscopic fissures rapidly expand across its surface, spider-webbing out in a dance of impending destruction. With a sound that resonates like the crack of thunder, the blade shatters, sending shards cascading around them, a silent testament to Dark's formidable power and the intense confrontation that has just unfolded.
Ningin gasps, the sound muffled and echoing slightly within the confines of his helmet.
Ningin: What the?
Time seems to slow down, stretching each moment into an eternity.
Ningin: (thinking) Where did this strength come from? Plus...he isn't even looking at me, could he have?....no impossible...
Ningin, in a swift motion born of desperation and skill, switches hands to deliver a surprise punch towards Dark. Yet, Dark, with an uncanny sense of his opponent's intentions, blocks Ningin's hand effortlessly, his gaze still fixed elsewhere, embodying a predator's instinct.
Taken aback by this unforeseen resistance, Ningin stumbles, retreating from Dark's imposing figure. The air itself seems to respond to the tension, whipping into a frenetic roar around Dark. His cape, frayed and nearly torn from the ferocity of the battle, flutters wildly, ensnared by the tempest of his aura. His clothes, battered and torn, dance to the same violent rhythm, signaling the storm brewing within him.
Amidst this turmoil, Dark's face is enshrouded in an impenetrable shadow, a dark veil that hints at the depth of his fury and power. The only features visible through this darkness are his eyes, glowing a fierce red, piercing the gloom with their intensity, a beacon of his indomitable will.
In an instant, the chaotic symphony of movement and noise comes to a halt, a suspenseful silence enveloping the scene. Dark, for a fleeting moment, appears to revert to a state of calm, the storm within him momentarily subdued. But this peace is ephemeral, shattered by a sudden explosion of energy that emanates from Dark in a devastating wave.
This intense pressure, or spiritual force, unfurls with a might that seems to warp the very air, a visible distortion that ripples outwards, encompassing everything in its path. The ground beneath their feet trembles, stones and debris lifted into the air as if caught in the eye of a hurricane. This force, both awe-inspiring and terrifying, fills the area, a tangible demonstration of Dark's unleashed power, suffusing the environment with a palpable sense of his dominance and the raw, untamed energy at his command.
Ningin: The hell?
A smirk unfurls across Dark's face, shadowed yet unmistakable in its confidence. As he prepares to speak, his voice carries a tone laced with amusement, echoing the smirk that dances on his lips, a sound that hints at both victory and an unspoken jest, revealing a facet of his character that thrives even amidst the chaos of battle.
Dark: Convergent Darkness,
In a flash, Ningin and One gasp, shock etched deeply. One's eyes widen, time stretching the moment, capturing their astonishment in vivid detail.
As Ningin's helmet shatters, fragments cascade around him, revealing his face, a visage of superiority, marked by sharp, angular features that speak of his demonic heritage. His eyes, glowing with a fierce, otherworldly light, are set deep, commanding attention and exuding a sense of power. The skin, a dark, almost ethereal shade, is stretched tight over pronounced cheekbones, and his expression, a mix of surprise and defiance, adds a complex layer to his already intimidating presence.
Dark: Infinite Mist Of Darkness.
Suddenly, a dense mist of darkness engulfs the entire area, an ominous force that materializes without warning. From within this creeping gloom, swirling vines of shadow emerge, writhing with a life of their own. They coil around Ningin and One, ensnaring them with an unrelenting grip. These dark tendrils pull insistently, as if intending to drag them down into the very earth beneath their feet, their struggle visible through the shifting veil of darkness.
Amidst this chaos, Dark's laughter resonates, a sound that seems both triumphant and menacing. It fills the air, echoing through the mist that obscures the scene, turning the battleground into a realm of shadow. The laughter, combined with the encroaching darkness, creates an atmosphere thick with anticipation and dread, the outcome of this confrontation shrouded in the very mist that envelops them.
Dark: Not so funny now?
The camera pierces through the swirling mist, narrowing in on Dark, who is crouched low like a predator ready to pounce, embodying a tiger's lethal grace. His gaze is locked onto Ningin and One, who are subdued on the ground, caught in the shadowy tendrils. The focus then sharpens on Dark's smile, which is twisted into a devious grin that speaks volumes of his confidence and the thrill of the moment. This smile, edged with malice and cunning, is the kind that promises more than just victory, it whispers of a game well played, of strategies unfurling as planned, and of an adversary delighting in the unfolding of his machinations.
"Is it?" Dark's voice cuts through the heavy air, smooth and laden with unspoken jests.
In a fluid motion that belies the tension of the moment, he reaches out, his hand clasping One's hair with a deceptive gentleness. He then lifts One, forcing him into a position to meet his gaze, a move that holds both dominance and an unsettling intimacy. With One's face now squarely in his view, Dark's attention shifts, his eyes moving to lock onto Ningin, the silent communication between them charged with meaning.
Dark: Who's laughing now?
Ningin: (thinking) How did this guy get so strong...in such a short time?...
As this intense standoff continues, the unexpected sound of footsteps approaching from behind suddenly breaks the silence. The rhythmic, confident steps grow louder, drawing closer to Dark's position. One, despite his precarious situation, manages to catch a glimpse of the newcomer. Upon seeing who it is, a smile breaks across One's face, a reaction that suggests recognition and perhaps a twist of fate about to unfold, yet the identity of the person remains shrouded in mystery, heightening the suspense.
One: Took you long enough....
The distinct, chilling sound of metal against stone fills the air as a scythe is dragged across the ground, its blade grating with a deadly resonance. The sound is deliberate, each scrape a menacing symphony of impending doom, designed to unnerve and announce the wielder's presence. It's a sound that speaks of finality, of ends approaching, each echo a grim reminder of the scythe's purpose.
As this ominous symphony continues, Dark slowly turns his head towards the source, his movements measured but filled with an uncharacteristic hesitance. When his gaze finally finds the newcomer, his eyes widen in shock, a rare break in his usually unflappable demeanor. The air around them seems to thicken with the newcomer's immense power and aura, a tangible force that even Dark, with all his strength and confidence, cannot ignore. This revelation, this sense of a formidable presence, sends a clear message of the significant threat and the potent ally or adversary that has just entered the fray.
Dark: The hell?...are you?....
"The King, of Death"
Dark: Zyke?
"Hahahaha Zyke is my right hand man."
Dark: So you...are the "god" that he was describing himself as?
"Yes."
Yenshin: My name is Yenshin, King of Death.
Yenshin: And for I have come here, to serve my purpose as the king of death, extinguishing thee ideal dream of yours.
Dark: Why do you speak like that....
Yenshin: Oh great Demi-God Luther, such an incredible human being you have ordered me, thy king of death, Yenshin to perish.
The camera finally reveals Yenshin, standing with an imposing presence that immediately commands attention. Yenshin, known as the King of Death, embodies the very essence of power and dread. His armor is a masterpiece of dark artistry, blending seamlessly with the shadows that cling to him. Crafted from materials that seem to absorb light, the armor is a deep, matte black, accentuated with hints of dark iridescence that shift with his movements. Its design is both elegant and menacing, with sharp angles and lines that suggest both protection and lethality.
At his side is the Spear of Death, a legendary weapon said to have been crafted and forged by the Demi-God Luther millions of years ago. The spear's shaft is a void-black, so dark it seems to pull in the light around it, while its blade gleams with a malevolent light, a stark contrast that enhances its deadly beauty. Runes, glowing faintly with an otherworldly energy, are etched along its length, whispering of ancient power and forbidden knowledge.
Yenshin himself is an imposing figure, his stature towers, yet it's the intensity of his gaze that truly sets him apart. His eyes, deep pools of darkness, seem to see right through the veil of mortality. The aura emanating from him is palpable, a swirling mass of shadows that dances around his form, giving him an ethereal, almost ghostly appearance. This shadowy aura seems alive, responding to his will, enhancing his fearsome visage.
With a fluid motion that speaks of centuries of mastery, Yenshin flourishes his spear, the movement graceful yet filled with a deadly promise. He strikes the tip of his weapon into the ground, a definitive gesture that marks his arrival. As he walks towards Dark, each step is measured and deliberate, the spear dragging slightly, its path marked by a trail of chilling energy that seems to whisper of death's inexorable approach.
Struggling against his deteriorating situation, Dark attempts to rise and create distance between himself and the imminent threat. However, One and Ningin, like shadows that loom ever closer, are immediately behind him, their hands clamping down on his shoulders with an unyielding force. Their grip is so intense, so overpowering, that the sound of Dark's shoulder bones beginning to crack under the pressure fills the air, a stark reminder of their strength and his vulnerable position.
Yenshin, the embodiment of deathly calm, ceases his advance and stands directly before Dark. His expression is devoid of emotion, his face pale, almost ghostly, as he looks down at Dark with a gaze that's both penetrating and dismissive. The size and presence of Yenshin cast a formidable shadow over Dark, emphasizing the disparity between them.
With a deliberate motion, Yenshin extends his left hand towards Dark, effortlessly brushing aside One's hand from Dark's shoulder as if asserting his dominion. This simple act sends a clear message, not just to Dark but to One and Ningin as well, who immediately step back, their retreat a silent acknowledgment of Yenshin's authority and the shifting dynamics of power within this confrontation.
One: Hehe this is going to be fun.
Yenshin: You have sinned, for I, King of Death. Must ki—
Dark: Shut up, I don't care.
Yenshin, with a commanding presence that silences the tumultuous atmosphere, gestures with his right hand towards his spear, which lies several meters away. In response to his silent command, the spear begins to quiver, its movement erratic at first, shifting left and right as if alive, gathering momentum. Then, propelled by an unseen force, it launches into the air with lethal precision, cutting through the distance between them with astonishing speed.
In a mere blink, the spear finds its way back into Yenshin's waiting grasp. With a swift and merciless motion, he thrusts it forward. The spear, now an extension of his will, pierces Dark's abdomen with such force that it breaches his liver, emerging from his back. The speed and brutality of the attack leave no room for defense, the spear's path marked by a swift, clean line of destruction. The air around them seems to pause, the gravity of what has transpired hanging heavy as Yenshin executes this devastating blow with chilling efficiency.
Yenshin: You are but a dying soul dragged from within the abyss, born out of constant rage, thrown into darkness as you crawled back out.
Yenshin releases his hold, stepping back from Dark and the embedded spear, leaving Dark to the gravity of his wounds and the reality of his situation. Dark collapses onto his knees, the sudden descent marked by a grimace of acute pain that contorts his features. His hand instinctively moves to grasp the spear, an attempt to understand or mitigate the agony it has caused. As he touches it, the realization of his dire state becomes apparent, and tears, born of pain, defeat, or perhaps a profound realization, start to fall from his eyes, tracing paths down his face.
In this moment of vulnerability, Dark's gaze shifts, finding Leona.
Dark: (thinking) Come on....get up Dark....you gotta get up....
Dark: (thinking) These...beings in front of me are nowhere near Sukojo's eyes.
Dark: (thinking) Come on get up....
Dark: (thinking) All I have to do is take out this long spear that's draining my blood crazily....
A shadowy aura begins to emanate from him, initially emerging from his shoulders and head. It grows slowly at first, an almost smooth, undulating presence that seems to draw from the depths of his being. This aura, dark and filled with an ethereal quality, steadily intensifies, expanding around him, a visual testament to the unseen forces at play within Dark's spirit. The aura's growth, serene yet powerful, envelops him in an ever-expanding cloak of shadow, signaling a profound shift or awakening that radiates with silent intensity.
Yenshin: Hoohh?? Awakening?
One: (thinking) Hasn't Dark already been through that multiple times?....
One: (thinking) No wait, could it be?-... Embodiment Of Woken Soul?
Amid the pain and the burgeoning shadowy aura enveloping him, Dark's lips curl into a smile. Blood, a quick reminder of his grievous injury, trickles from the corner of his mouth, dripping down in contrast to his enigmatic grin. This smile, amidst such adversity, speaks volumes of his resilience, defiance, or perhaps an insight unknown to those around him, adding a layer of complexity to his already mysterious demeanor.
Dark: King of death my ass, ranks my ass.
With a resilience that defies his grave condition, Dark clasps the shaft of the spear firmly. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he begins to push the weapon out of his body. This act, wrought with agony, is a testament to his indomitable will. Slowly, leveraging every ounce of strength left in him, Dark manages to extricate the spear, a feat that seems almost beyond human endurance. With the spear finally removed, he painstakingly rises to his feet, a display of defiance and strength in the face of overwhelming odds.
Yenshin: (thinking) Hmm he's quite strong for a human being.
Yenshin, observing the unfolding scene, takes a step back from Dark. His posture is one of anticipation, as if waiting for the aftermath of Dark's actions to reveal itself. This deliberate distance suggests a calculated patience, a readiness to respond to whatever may come next, hinting at the depth of strategy and foresight behind Yenshin's formidable presence.
Dark: Mugen Korosu,
As Dark utters the name of his ability, "Mugen Korosu," the air around them thickens with anticipation. Yenshin, One, and Ningin collectively gasp, their reactions a mix of shock and disbelief, a moment captured in a tense silence that speaks volumes of the mysterious and possibly devastating power Dark has just invoked.
Dark brings his hands together in a deliberate, precise motion. His fingers intertwine, forming a complex gesture that seems to be both an invocation and a symbol. The tips of his fingers touch, creating a pattern that is intricate and purposeful, suggesting a deep knowledge of the forces he is about to command. This gesture, almost ritualistic in nature, signals the preparation for something momentous, a visible manifestation of his intent and mastery over the mysterious powers at his disposal.
Dark: Infinite Darkness.
As Dark completes the intricate gesture with his hands, the air around them suddenly charges with a palpable, electrifying energy. From the depths of his being, a powerful force erupts, a technique known as "Infinite Darkness." This ability manifests as a surge of shadowy energy that expands rapidly, engulfing the surroundings in an all, consuming blackness. It feels like the very fabric of reality is being twisted, a vortex of dark energy that pulls at everything within its reach.
One and Ningin are caught completely off guard by the sudden onslaught. The shadows seem to latch onto them with a ferocity that is both terrifying and absolute, wrapping around their forms and dragging them into the abyssal depths of the dark energy. Their attempts to resist are futile against the overwhelming force, their forms beginning to fade and distort as if the darkness itself is devouring them, their expressions contorted in a mix of fear and disbelief.
Yenshin, despite his formidable power, finds himself straining against the immense pressure of the Infinite Darkness. The shadows swirl around him, challenging his strength as he stands resolute, his feet planted firmly on the ground. His aura flares in response, a beacon of light struggling against the encroaching dark, muscles tensed in a visible display of effort as he endeavors to withstand the maelstrom. The intensity of the moment is etched on his face, a rare show of exertion from the King of Death, as he battles the relentless tide of Dark's awakening power.
Yenshin: (thinking) Tch, where did he get this power from?-...
Yenshin: I, Yenshin the king of death, shall not be defeat by a human.
As Yenshin begins his advance towards Dark, the very physics of the environment seem to warp in response to the immense forces at play. Each step he takes is deliberate, laden with a gravity that suggests not just physical weight but the weight of centuries, a manifestation of his power that seems to bend the air around him. The ground beneath his feet reacts, the earth itself compressing with each footfall, a testament to the extraordinary energy emanating from his being.
In this heightened atmosphere, time suddenly dilates, stretching each moment into an eternity. While everything continues to move, the action unfolds as if through a thick, invisible medium, rendering each movement languid and elongated in a slow-motion ballet. Amid this temporal anomaly, the camera shifts to reveal Sojo, the True Time Guardian, also known as the Guardian Of The Eclipse. This young figure, exuding an aura of calm authority that belies his age, walks unaffected by the altered flow of time, a stark contrast to the slowed reality around him.
Despite being a few inches shorter than Dark, Sojo's presence is undiminished. He approaches Yenshin with a purposeful stride, reaching out to grasp Yenshin's chest plate with a confidence that commands attention. With a surprising show of strength, Sojo pulls Yenshin down towards him, their faces coming close in an intimate confrontation of powers. This action, simple yet profound, showcases Sojo's authority and the unique dynamics of power and respect in this moment of crisis.
Sojo: You are so pathetic, Yenshin.
Yenshin: (thinking) Who the hell is this kid? Where did he come from? Why am I walking so slow? Why does the world feel so slow?
Yenshin: (Thinking) Who could he possibly be?
Yenshin: (thinking) Could he be?....the?....Time Guardian?...
With an effortless grace that belies the power behind the motion, Sojo flicks his wrist while releasing Yenshin's chestplate. This seemingly minimal action is executed with such precision and strength that it catapults Yenshin into an uncontrollable backward momentum. Yenshin's body, now a blur, is angled upwards towards the sky, as if he's been launched by an unseen force of unimaginable magnitude.
In an instant, Yenshin's trajectory takes him beyond the bounds of conventional physics, propelling him at a velocity that surpasses the speed of light. This extraordinary momentum carries him directly through the moon. The impact is cataclysmic, sending shockwaves that fracture and ultimately explode the celestial body, leaving a trail of cosmic debris in his wake.
Unabated, Yenshin continues his unforeseen journey, next colliding with Mars. The force of his passage is so overwhelming that it ignites a series of explosions across the planet's surface, tearing it apart in a spectacle of destruction that outshines the planet's natural red glow.
His relentless momentum carries him into a black hole, that enigmatic maw of space-time. For a moment, all is lost to the darkness, but then, defying all known laws of the universe, Yenshin emerges from the opposite side. His exit is marked by an explosion that rends the black hole apart, a burst of energy and light that annihilates the very phenomenon that nothing is supposed to escape.
As the cosmic destruction unfolds, the camera cuts back to Sojo, who stands amidst the chaos, unphased. A light smile plays upon his lips as he turns his gaze towards Dark, his demeanor calm and composed, a stark contrast to the astronomical devastation his actions have wrought. This moment captures the immense power Sojo wields with mere subtlety, a Guardian of Time whose capabilities reach far beyond the conceivable, impacting the very fabric of the cosmos.
Sojo touches Dark's shoulder before saying...
Sojo: Heal and Cure.
With a voice that carries the weight and authority of his title, Sojo utters the words, "Heal and Cure." In an instant, a gentle, luminous energy envelops Dark. This energy, visible as a soft glow, permeates his being, targeting and mending every wound, every source of pain within him. As this light moves through him, it leaves no trace of injury, no shadow of suffering behind. Dark's cuts seal, bruises fade, and broken bones knit together seamlessly, as if time itself is being rewound around his physical form. The transformation is complete and utter, a testament to Sojo's profound power to not just manipulate time but to command healing on a fundamental level.
During this miraculous process, One and Ningin stand as silent witnesses, their gazes fixed on Sojo. The look in their eyes is a complex mix of surprise, respect, and a newfound understanding of the true scope of Sojo's abilities. This moment, marked by Sojo's intervention, subtly shifts the dynamics of power and perception, leaving both One and Ningin in a state of contemplation over the Guardian's role and the extent of his powers.
Sojo: Oi Dark, why not give yourself an actual name?
Dark: Eh? But Dark is my name.
Sojo: Dark means darkness, a place with no light.
Sojo: Almost every being knows about you and how much you're filled with hatred.
Sojo: Want a perfect name for that?
Dark: Hatred? Me? No...
Sojo: Kirai, your real name is Kirai.
Sojo: Shadow Monarch.
Kirai: S-shadow? Monarch? Kirai, Shadow Monarch?
Sojo: Ah, exactly.
Sojo, having just demonstrated his formidable powers, turns his attention towards One and Ningin. He walks toward them with a purposeful stride, his expression shifting to one of unmistakable disgust. This look, filled with scorn and disapproval, is directed squarely at them, making it clear that he holds them in contempt. His gaze is piercing, judging, and carries an intensity that underscores his distaste for whatever part they have played or the principles they represent in this unfolding drama.
Sojo: Disgusting demons.
Sojo: Go Back.
As Sojo speaks the command "Go Back," his voice resonates with a potent force, not just audible but palpable. The air around him seems to compress momentarily, building an immense pressure that suddenly releases as an explosive wave of energy directed at One and Ningin. This invisible force impacts them with such intensity that they are sent hurtling backwards at high speed, their bodies barely contorting under the sudden and overwhelming power.
Meanwhile, Dark watches the scene unfold, his eyes widening in a mix of surprise and awe. The sheer magnitude of Sojo's ability to manipulate energy and enforce his will strikes him profoundly, revealing yet another layer of the Guardian's formidable powers. This visual of One and Ningin being physically repelled by a spoken command dramatically underscores the gravity of Sojo's presence and authority.
Dark: (thinking) Woah, such power.....
Dark: (thinking) Just who is this guy...I've seen him once before while I was fighting with Sukojo.
Sojo, exuding a calm composure after displaying his powerful capabilities, casually tucks his hands into the pockets of his garment. He walks past Dark with an air of nonchalance, embodying a quiet confidence that seems to separate him from the turmoil and intensity of the recent events. His movement is smooth and deliberate, highlighting a stark contrast between his serene demeanor and the chaotic energy that has just transpired.
Sojo: Be careful who you fight with next time.
Sojo, with a keen awareness of his surroundings, shifts his gaze toward the direction where Leona is concealed. Her hiding spot is behind an almost broken pillar, which, despite its damage, manages to obscure her presence completely from view. Sojo's attention to this particular location suggests an acute perception, able to discern or suspect her presence even without direct visual confirmation. His eyes linger on the area, signaling his recognition of her attempt to stay hidden.
Sojo: And you Leona, don't get yourself in trouble by training thousands of kilometers away from your home, tell Tier my greetings.
The camera subtly shifts focus to Leona, capturing her cautious movements as she peers from behind the damaged pillar. She slowly tilts her head, attempting to catch a glimpse of Sojo through the gaps in her crumbling cover. As the camera angle widens to show where Sojo and Dark were standing, a surprising reveal unfolds: Sojo is no longer there.
The scene where Sojo stood moments ago is now empty, leaving only Dark, who stands in isolation, his gaze fixed intently on the ground. The sudden absence of Sojo, who seemed to vanish without a trace, adds a layer of mystery and supernatural aura to his character. Dark's posture and the intensity of his stare into the void where Sojo once was encapsulate a moment of solitude and perhaps contemplation, contrasted sharply against the swift and silent departure of the Time Guardian.
Leona: Huh?...where did the kid go?....
Dark, emerging from his introspective moment, lifts his gaze and looks directly at Leona. His eyes find hers across the distance, bridging the space between them with a look that carries the weight of recent events and the shifting dynamics around them. This exchange, though silent, is charged with meaning and recognition.
Dark: Leona, this person is not a child, a teenager or an adult, this being has probably been alive for billions of years, like there's just no way he's that powerful as a child....
Leona: I don't know, haven't you heard of Shinryu's story when he was a child?
Dark: Uhh I forgot....
Leona: So uhh from what I remember when he was just a kid, his mother told him to get some food but then a moment later some random guy bumped his mother to the ground and...
Leona: Shinryu saw it but uhh in short he shrunk and entire universe into his bare palm, then it happened, his entire sky village, built by legitimate gods, all destroyed by a mere child.
Dark: Woah....
Leona: So in the end, this powerful kid might be one of the chosen ones of whatever.
Dark: Hmm, maybe, maybe not.
The scene transitions to a more serene environment, where Tier stands next to his now completed device. The intricate machinery, a testament to his skill and dedication, hums quietly in the background, signaling its readiness. As Tier steps back to admire his work, a smile spreads across his face, reflecting both relief and a sense of achievement.
Tier: Hehe, all I need is one blood crystal to make this work for Dark.
Tier steps away from his device and walks outside, greeted by the early signs of dawn. The horizon is painted with hues of orange and pink, where the night's darkness is steadily retreating before the advance of the sun. The first light of day crests over the landscape, casting long, soft shadows and bathing everything in a warm, gentle glow. This sunrise, signaling a new day, offers a moment of calm and renewal, its beauty stark against the indoor confines where Tier has labored through the night. The rising sun, a symbol of hope and continuity, suggests not just the passing of time but also the promise of new beginnings and the potential for fresh challenges ahead.
End of chapter 12