Tundra glanced at Flage, the terror in his single eye betraying his divinity.
Flage gazed over his shoulders with a stern face, one that had not changed throughout their fight. Blood was splattered across his body, but none of it was his. His focus was fixed entirely on his next prey: the god of Frost. His gaze was unnerving, and the glow of his red left eye only heightened the fear.
Tundra stepped back slightly, his body weary. After assessing the situation, he realized that Flage may have been suppressing his power all along--an oversight that had led him to underestimate the god.
He trembled at first, but after a moment, the shaking stopped. A smile slowly crept back onto his face as he began to giggle once more.
"Color me impressed," he said, placing his icy left palm over his face in amusement. "I would not have thought thee capable of facing Tremor alone, let alone the both of us. It seems thou art far more powerful than I had thought."
His grin widened as he stretched his right hand, a ball of ice beginning to form in his grasp. "Now... let us see how thou dost fare--"
Before Tundra could finish, Flage closed the distance in a heartbeat, swinging both variants of Vanquisher toward his opponent's right arm.
Tundra recoiled sharply, halting his action mid-motion. His smile faltered. "Hast thou no honor?" he spat, watching Flage rush toward him again.
He quickly realized Flage's intent: to prevent him from using his Snowball Effect ability. The thought agitated him, and he turned his focus fully back to the fight.
They clashed briefly before Tundra retreated again. With the distance gained, he extended his right hand and waved it forward. Ice manifested on the ground before him, growing into jagged spikes that surged forward at his command.
Flage stood his ground, then swept his right hand outward. With a single motion, he swung Vanquisher forward, releasing an intense heat that melted the incoming ice before it reached him. The heat was so intense that it even melted Tundra's conjured left arm.
Seeing this, Tundra growled in frustration, reforming his arm with ice before conjuring two massive frozen blades of his own and charging back into the fray.
As their weapons collided, Flage continued to dominate with ease. The difference in their strength was so stark that at one point, the god of Hunting released Vanquisher entirely and stepped back, letting the weapons clash against Tundra on its own.
The god of Frost snarled, helpless to close the gap. Flage simply stood a short distance away, arms folded, stretching his neck from side to side.
Moments later, Vanquisher returned to his grasp, and Flage rejoined the fight.
They moved with a deadly rhythm, each motion calculated and precise like a dance of blades. Both were clearly masters of their chosen weapons, but there was no denying that one far outmatched the other.
"Curses," Tundra thought bitterly. "If only I could muster that ability... this would not prove so difficult."
Then, during another clash, Flage abruptly leapt back despite his clear advantage. He stood still, his gaze locked on Tundra in silence.
Tundra raised an eyebrow before chuckling. "Thou truly dost believe thou canst best me at my full power?" he asked. "Very well."
Stretching out his right hand, he conjured the ball of ice once more, this time finally slamming it against his chest.
His body shimmered with energy as he laughed. "Now the real battle begins," he declared, rushing forward.
Tundra moved faster than before, his strength increasing exponentially under the Snowball Effect. Yet, despite his growing power, he still failed to land a single blow. The fight was less one-sided now, but the only difference was that Flage struck him less often, not that Tundra struck him more.
Flage, however, understood exactly what was happening. He knew the nature of his opponent's ability and countered accordingly, not only by matching Tundra's rising power but by constantly shifting his fighting style mid-battle.
During one exchange, Flage tossed Vanquisher from his right hand to his left while still holding the second variant. As the two blades drew close, the one in his left hand consumed the other, fusing into a single weapon. With only one sword in hand, he shifted into a single-wield stance, entirely changing his approach.
Tundra struggled to adapt. His ability allowed him to match only one style at a time, forcing him to restart his adjustments with each change.
And as the battle raged on, Flage kept switching unpredictably between single and dual wield, erasing any progress Tundra had managed to gain. Without warning, he tossed one of his blades upward and swung the other toward his opponent.
Tundra met the strike with his frozen blade, but his eye flicked upward in search of the other weapon, suspicious of the strange maneuver. Yet, when he looked up, he saw nothing. By the time his gaze returned, a heavy punch smashed into his face, forcing him back.
The upward toss had been a ruse. Before Tundra's attention was drawn above, Flage had already returned that version of Vanquisher to the arsenal, using it as a decoy to create an opening. He understood that, because of his opponent's ability, he needed to constantly alter his approach to keep the advantage. But he also knew the longer the fight dragged on, the more dangerous Tundra would become. So he knew it was time to end things.
Still gripping the other variant of Vanquisher, Flage pointed it at Tundra, marking him as his next prey.
Tundra scowled at the gesture. "Thinkest thou this is over?" he spat, shifting his stance and summoning a bow.
In a blink, his signature Arctic Arrow formed as he drew back the string. "Then try and survive this," he spat before letting go of the string.
The arrow tore toward Flage at an impossible speed, freezing not only the space it passed through but even the air beyond. As it closed in, Flage tightened his grip on Vanquisher, then slammed the blunt side against the projectile. Matching its velocity, he deflected it upward.
The Arctic Arrow soared into the sky before exploding, parting the clouds and scattering frozen shards through the atmosphere. The shockwave trembled the very space around them and even cracked a piece of reality at the area of detonation.
Tundra's jaw hung open in disbelief, only for another strike from Flage to send him staggering. He hit the ground, but quickly rose, refusing to yield so easily. But by the time he raised his head, Flage had already closed the distance.
Tundra attempted to summon another weapon, but Flage abruptly stopped in front of him and gently tossed the variant of Vanquisher he wielded toward him.
Instinctively, Tundra caught it, but the weapon's mass pulled him forward, throwing him off balance. In that moment, Flage landed a brutal uppercut, Tundra's head snapping back before a fierce kick sent him flying.
The god of Frost crashed through several distant buildings--remnants of the destruction Tremor had caused earlier--before slamming against a wall. He remained down longer than expected, his armor shattered, his spirit shaken. Yet with his ability still active, he clung to the belief that stalling would eventually tip the scales in his favor.
Slowly rising, Tundra growled in anger, stretching his arms wide. "Thou wishest to behold true horror?" he roared. "I shall show thee!"
Suddenly, the air around the battlefield began to shift, most noticeably near Tundra. A chilling force swept across the entire area as shards of ice began to form behind the god, their numbers climbing into the millions.
The frozen spikes filled the entire space behind him, each one pointed directly at Flage. Without hesitation, Tundra hurled them all toward the god of Hunting.
Flage saw the incoming barrage, yet his calm never wavered. He released his grip on Vanquisher, letting the twin blades hover at his sides. Lowering into a slight crouch, he placed his hands at his sides, closed his eyes in focus, then snapped them open and thrust both hands forward.
As the storm of sharp ice closed in, something utterly unexpected happened.
Tundra's eye widened in the greatest display of shock he had shown all battle. "Impossible," he muttered. "H–How?"
Tundra's eye widened at the unbelievable sight. Every spike and shard of ice froze in place before Flage, obeying his will rather than that of their caster. It was an extraordinary display; the very element itself had yielded to the command of the god of Hunting, halting in defiance of the god of Frost.
Slowly, the suspended ice shifted, then suddenly surged back with blinding speed toward Tundra.
The shards crashed into him with full force, but because of his nature, they did little harm. Still, the sight left him stunned. His eye remained wide as he sank to his knees in defeat, watching Flage advance, Vanquisher returning to the god's grasp.
Realizing the end was near, Tundra's voice trembled. "P-Please, sibling," he begged, bowing his head. "Forgive my actions. I only did wish to do my duty."
But Flage kept moving.
"Please," Tundra repeated, desperation rising. "I swear I--"
Before he could finish, Flage lunged, driving both variants of Vanquisher deep into Tundra's torso.
The frost god's eye filled with terror as Flage lifted him off the ground with the blades, then slammed him hard into the ground behind.
Tundra lay there in pain, staring at the sky as Vanquisher wrenched free and flew back to Flage's grasp. His vision blurred, consciousness slipping, but then he noticed something.
"All I must do is endure until Father arrives," he thought. "I know he shall not allow me to--"
But Tundra stopped mid-sentence, his eye widening as they fell upon The End, who was already present and seated a good distance from the battlefield.
The End had been watching the clash from the very beginning, lounging on a massive black throne that radiated regality. His cheek rested on his left hand, a faint smile present on his lips.
To his right stood Limbo, silent and motionless, the shackle over his eyes still in place. To his left was Olivia, her neck bound, her eyes dulled with defeat as she failed to make further attempts to resist her captor.
It dawned on Tundra that his creator had witnessed everything--Flage's dominance, and Tremor's fall--and had done nothing. There was no hint of remorse in the being's black sclerad eyes, only a quiet amusement. In that instant, Tundra understood: his life meant far less to The End than he had once believed. And with that realization came the certainty that he would die here.
Oddly, the knowledge brought a grin to his face. Laughter spilled from his lips, first a chuckle, then a wild, uncontrollable cackle. It lasted only seconds before Flage finally hurled Vanquisher towards him.
The blade struck with brutal precision, driving through Tundra's mouth. The force cleaved his grin apart, splitting his skull clean through. Soon, his body began to petrify, signaling his eventual death.
Flage's gaze finally shifted from focused calm to simmering anger. "Rest in pieces," he said flatly as Tundra's corpse fell still.
As his gaze lingered a moment longer, the hue of the battle began to settle, and Ouroboros was soon revoked. However, this changed essentially nothing for Flage since he had taken no damage. Still, it did replenish his stamina and restore his infinite power, signaled by the return of the radiant halo on his back. Slowly, he turned his head toward one direction, his gaze locking with The End, who stared back from nearly a mile away.
"You," Flage said, his voice hollow.
The End maintained his grin. "Impressive," he said. "Thou hast managed to shut him up."
Despite the frightening weight of The End's gaze, Flage's expression remained neutral.
"Thou hast managed to entertain me with thy actions," The End continued. "It is a pity that thou must yet meet thy demise here."
The moment the words left The End's mouth, Flage's eyes widened with sudden realization. He immediately tightened his grip on Vanquisher, spinning around and swinging the twin blades at incredible speed. A loud slam rang out, revealing a construct of The End standing directly behind him, exactly where Flage had struck.
"Ohh?" the construct mused, his eyes narrowing with curiosity at Flage as the two versions of Vanquisher halted just an inch from his head.
Flage poured tremendous force into his swing, yet no matter how much strength he mustered, his weapons could not break past the invisible barrier surrounding The End's form. Soon, his strength began to wane, and he realized with a sinking feeling that he could no longer move, his body frozen in place.
"I must admit, thou hast indeed grown more formidable," the construct said with a grin that slowly softened. "Yet forget not that I still hold dominion over thee."
As The End finished his words, a purple substance began to creep along both variants of Vanquisher from the tips downward. In moments, both weapons slowly began to dematerialize. Soon, they had fully vanished from Flage's grasp, the lingering violet aura suggesting possible destruction.
The End's gaze never wavered from Flage. "I know it was thee," he said calmly. "I know thou wast the one who didst suggest the rebellion."
His eyes darkened with anger. "I should have made thy death the most painful of them all," he spat, before easing slightly. "But… thou hast given me the most worthy spectacle yet. Thus, I will grace thee with a swift demise."
Before Flage could react, The End's fist drove straight through his gut. Despite all his power, he could do nothing to resist. The construct vanished, leaving Flage to collapse to his knees as the force binding him faded away.
The original version of The End remained seated upon his throne, still smiling as he observed. Then his attention shifted, sensing a strange distortion.
"It appears we have guests," he said evenly.
Immediately, a beam of light descended upon the battlefield, and a figure dropped from the skies alongside three others. As the radiance faded, Nekro was revealed at the center, flanked by Ash, Mia, and X.
Mia gasped, the dizzying sensation of traveling between worlds still fresh in her body. X and Ash stood steady, though both stiffened as they felt the intoxicating presence that seemed to smother the entire earth.
Nekro's gaze moved forward and froze upon seeing Flage on the ground, the god's head bowed in defeat. "No," he muttered in shock as the demigods followed his gaze. "We are too late."
Mia's eyes widened at the sight, and without thinking, she bolted toward Flage.
"Wait," X called after her.
But Mia didn't stop. Concern propelled her forward.
Something about the scene unsettled X--the unmistakable presence of The End lingered despite his apparent absence in the area. Still, Nekro moved after Mia, prompting Ash to follow, and eventually, X cautiously joined them.
As Mia approached Flage's kneeling form, her eyes caught the gaping wound in his gut. "Daddy?" she called softly, stopping just short of him.
Flage turned his head, and recognition flashed in his eyes at who she was.
Mia's breathing quickened as she closed the distance, her gaze fixed on the wound. "No, no, no," she murmured, crouching and pressing her palm against it. "You're okay. Everything will be okay."
Flage's soft gaze lingered on her as she tended to him, the weight of the moment pressing between them. "I'm… sorry," he whispered, voice heavy. "For everything."
"No, don't say that," Mia replied, still focused on the wound. "You just have to heal this. You're a god, after all. That shouldn't be too difficult."
"That… is not how… this works," Flage said weakly, clear blood seeping from his torso.
Tears spilled down Mia's cheeks. "It's not fair," she said softly. "We didn't even get to know each other. I didn't… get to scold you for abandoning us. For letting my brother go through everything he did."
Flage's gaze lowered, his regret unmasked. "I'm… sorry," he repeated.
Soon, Ash and Nekro arrived ahead of Flage, with X alongside them.
From the side of The End, Limbo watched the moment unfold. He recognized that the presence of the demigods and Nekro would be problematic for his creator. But as he began to step forward to interfere, The End extended his right hand in front of the god, halting him.
"At ease," The End said with a smile, his gaze fixed ahead. "I want to see this."
Mia looked at Flage with concern as X approached, stopping before his father. The two hunters locked eyes, but X's mask concealed most of his expression. Even so, his eyes displayed a faint mix of anger and recognition.
"You look pathetic," X said at last, his first words to Flage.
Flage exhaled slowly at his son's remark. "I suppose... this is my punishment... for abandoning you both," he said between breaths.
X couldn't look away. He wanted to say more, yet the words never came. Soon, Nekro stepped forward instead.
Flage turned his gaze toward the god, lowering his eyes. "You," he said quietly.
Nekro stood in somber silence. "Hello, sibling," he began. "I never imagined I would see you in such a state."
"I was in such a state... the last time we met," Flage replied softly. "If you do not remember."
The subtle shift in his posture made Mia tense, her hands pressing more firmly against his wound.
"I remember that moment well," Nekro answered. "Which is why I had to see you one more time."
Flage lifted his head slightly, puzzled by Nekro's words.
"You were right," Nekro continued. "I should not have fought you that day. My oaths blinded me from hearing you... from acknowledging your happiness."
Flage remained silent. "So you came... to clear your conscience?" he asked.
"No," Nekro said firmly. "Quite the opposite. I came to confess my actions... and the oaths I broke alongside you."
Confusion spread among the others as Nekro went on.
"That day... I broke two oaths," he said.
Slowly, Nekro extended his right hand, his index finger pointing toward X. "The first was you," he began. "I placed a mark on your life--one forbidden to be placed on any mortal. A mark... that prevented you from dying against your will."
X's eyes widened in shock. "W-What?" he managed.
"I had sensed impending danger in your future after your birth," Nekro explained. "But the future was uncertain, as it always is. Because of that, I placed this mark to keep you from perishing unless you wished it, so that your life would be preserved."
X's gaze softened as memories resurfaced. Every moment he had faced death--every time he thought things should have ended--he had survived because of Nekro's blessing.
He remembered his imprisonment, the moment he had given up entirely, and the voice that told him to keep going. Now, at last, he finally recognized whose voice it had been after so long.
X stood in stunned silence, and that was enough for Flage to know Nekro spoke the truth. "Why... did you do it?" he asked.
Nekro's eyes eased. "It was the least I could do... after taking their parents from them," he said, before turning slightly. "Which brings me to my second point."
All eyes stayed on Nekro, who suddenly reached into his chestplate and pulled out a necklace.
X recognized it instantly as the same emerald-green necklace the god had worn the first time they met in Under World.
Nekro held the artifact, his gaze locked on Flage. "That day... I could not do it," he said.
"Do what?" Flage asked, already suspecting the answer.
Soon, Nekro tightened his grip on the necklace and crushed it. At once, thick green smoke spiraled from his hand, swirling into a vortex before drifting to his side. Slowly, it began to take shape.
Flage's eyes widened as the smoke dispersed, a familiar figure emerging from within and causing his heart to sink in recognition.
"D-Dawn."