The skeletal hands gripping Henry's arms shredded away as if made of brittle paper, dissolving into wisps of dark smoke that vanished into the air. Lon Hux began circling Henry slowly, his maroon suit a stark contrast to the chaos around them.
Lon Hux: You've gotten weaker and stupider, brother.
Henry's eyes, still blazing with a furious white light, followed Lon's every move, locked onto his face.
Henry Heimman: (He scoffs,) Yeah? I can still beat you.
Lon Hux scoffed, a harsh laugh escaping his lips. He shook his head slowly, his orange eyes gleaming with amusement.
Lon Hux: Prove it.
He snapped his fingers and in that instant, the already dim battlefield was plunged into absolute, disorienting darkness arouns Henry. A booming voice, echoing as if from unseen speakers high above, suddenly filled the void.
Announcer: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! INTRODUCING FIRST, THE CHALLENGER! REPRESENTING THE WEAKER SIDE, THE MANIACAL LOSER OF LOSERS, THE MAN IN BLACK… HENRY HEIMMAN!
A blinding spotlight pierced the darkness, illuminating Henry. He stood on a patch of barren ground, now clad in black boxing gloves, white hand wraps stark against the darkness, black loose-fitting shorts, and thin-soled black boxing shoes. He blinked, his white eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness, glancing down at his unexpected attire before looking around, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Announcer: AND NOW HIS OPPONENT! REPRESENTING THE BEST OF THE BEST, THE LIGHT AGAINST ALL EVIL, THE MAN IN MAROON… LON HUX!
Another spotlight snapped on, illuminating Lon. He stood poised in a classic boxing stance, a maroon variety of boxing clothes mirroring Henry's attire. A confident smirk played on his lips as he rhythmically tapped his maroon-gloved fists together.
Henry Heimman: "The maniacal loser of losers…" (He quoted the announcer, a raised eyebrow conveying his annoyance.)
Lon Hux's orange eyes glowed with predatory delight, his smirk widening.
Lon Hux: I am going to enjoy kicking your ass… just like the others.
Henry's teeth clenched, his white eyes burning with renewed intensity. A sharp, resonant bell rang out, slicing through the night. Both brothers moved towards one another, the tension palpable even in the midst of the surrounding chaos.
Henry launched a quick double jab, but Lon effortlessly slipped both punches, ducking low and countering with two sharp straight jabs that landed squarely on Henry's torso. Lon followed up with a powerful right hook aimed at Henry's head. Henry, reacting swiftly, blocked the blow with his left glove, the impact jarring his arm. He immediately retaliated, driving two forceful gut punches into Lon, followed by a brutal uppercut that snapped Lon's head back and sent him crashing to the ground.
The force of Lon's fall caused a tremor that rippled outwards, and in an instant, the spotlight expanded to reveal a full-sized square white boxing ring, complete with four taut red ropes enclosing the fighting area. Cheers erupted from the darkness beyond the ring, an unseen audience roaring its approval. Henry turned his head towards the sounds of the cheering crowd, a flicker of confusion in his bright eyes.
Henry Heimman: Give it up, Lon.
Suddenly, a blast of intense red energy slammed into Henry, sending him hurtling backwards into the ropes. His vision swam for a moment before he refocused on Lon, who was now up to his feet, his boxing attire replaced by a traditional maroon kimono and black hakama pants held up by a crisp white belt and sandals. A sheathed fully black katana, its hilt wrapped in dark cord, rested in his left hand. He smirked, the blade of the katana igniting with a vibrant blue flame. Lon addressed Henry, the familiar sound of his voice now speaking in fluent Japanese.
Lon Hux: もうそんなに簡単に諦めるわけにはいかないな,特に貴様のような相手には. (I am not one to give up that easily, ESPECIALLY to the likes of you, brother.)
Henry's own attire transformed in a flash of white light, shifting to a black deel with loose black trousers and sturdy Mongol gutals. In his hand, a gleaming Turko-Mongol saber materialized. He lifted the saber, its edge catching the ambient light. Henry retorted in Mongolian, his voice strained, a plea buried beneath the command.
Henry: Хараал ид, Лон! Намайг битгий ийм зүйл хийлгээрэй. (Damnit Lon! Don't make me do this.)
Lon's smirk widened. He surged forward, a burst of speed so intense he seemed to vanish and reappear directly in front of Henry, his katana a blue-flamed arc. Henry, reacting with equally blinding speed, met the strike. The clang of metal on metal was impossibly loud, sparks showering between them. The force of Lon's blow pushed Henry back, but even as he retreated, Henry swung his saber horizontally. Despite the distance that had opened between them during the clash, the blade struck true. Lon, in turn, managed to block the impossible strike, the blue flames of his katana flaring against Henry's saber. He was sent flying sideways, tumbling across the now solid ring surface.
Seeing Lon momentarily grounded in the distance, Henry wasted no time. He raised his saber high, its polished blade reflecting the unholy blue flame of Lon's katana. He brought the saber down in a mighty, downward swing. Lon, still reeling, looked up. The saber above him seemed to grow impossibly large, a massive, crushing weight descending directly towards him.
The saber plunged down. The very surface Lon had just occupied shattered, a violent explosion of white fragments that dissolved into the surrounding darkness.
The shattered fragments of the area dissolved into a thick, swirling fog. A vast, impossibly large hand, belonging to Lon, burst from the obscurity. It moved with startling speed, a pale blur in the encroaching gloom, connecting with Henry and sending him careening into the darkness.
Henry hit the ground face-first with a grunt. Despite the trajectory that should have sent him flying in another direction, he found himself embedded in soft grass. He pushed himself up, eyes wide, surveying the drastic change in landscape. The battlefield was gone, replaced by an endless expanse of vibrant green that stretched to the horizon under a light blue sky.
Annoyance etched itself onto Henry's features. He clenched his fists. "Lon, enough of these GAMES!" he roared, a brilliant burst of white light erupting from his body. It expanded, then inexplicably froze in mid-air around him. Henry stared at it, confused, as the light reversed course, contracting back towards him as countless tiny projectiles. They pierced his body from all directions.
Then, the true scale of Lon appeared. Galactic in size, Lon floated in the cosmic void, his colossal form encompassing entire nebulae. Henry's eyes widened, his joints stiff, barely able to move. Lon opened his mouth, a vast maw encompassing stars, and took a monstrous bite out of the galaxy Henry inhabited. A blinding, cataclysmic white explosion consumed everything.
Beyond the reach of the expanding white light, Henry stood, holding the entire, contained explosion delicately between his index finger and thumb. He was back outside the prison, standing opposite Lon, who stared at the miniature, contained nova in Henry's hand, his mouth slightly agape, eyes slowly widening in disbelief. Henry's gaze, equally fixed on the orb, flickered up to meet Lon's, now burning with an intense resolve.
Henry moved his index finger behind the orb and flicked it. The white orb shot forward, expanding instantly into a colossal beam that engulfed Lon, sweeping him away without a trace. The beam continued its trajectory, piercing through the atmosphere and beyond the planet's visible surface, a beacon against the stars.
The blinding beam ripped through the sky, drawing every eye. Arthur, clinging to Maya, gasped.
Arthur: Holy shit…
Revan, mid-confrontation with Jasper and Ezra, suddenly staggered. A profound vibration resonated through his entire being, causing him to struggle for balance. His eyes flickered, reverting to a deep, unsettling purple, bloodshot in the sclera. He clasped his head, hearing only the thunderous rhythm of his own heartbeat, a frantic drum in his ears. What's... What's happening? he thought, his mind a whirlwind of confusion.
Below, the vast army Revan had resurrected from the dead suddenly collapsed, their lifeless forms hitting the ground with sickening thuds. Jack's block of ice dispersed into thin air, freeing him. He fell to his knees, breathing heavily, steam rising from his body as he shivered. He looked around at the inert bodies littering the ground, then heard a weak call
Henry: Jack…
Henry stood before Jack, breathing heavily, then buckled to one knee. As soon as his knee touched the ground, Henry found himself in a vast, featureless white space. His eyes widened, scanning the endless expanse. He pushed himself to his feet. Turning, he saw Lon, equally disoriented, looking around. Lon's eyes locked onto Henry, his face contorted in a mix of confusion and rage.
Lon: This place… What did you do? WHY did you take me back herne?! (He demanded, his voice echoing strangely in the void.)
Henry: I… (He stammered, taking another look around. His breathing slowly returned to normal.) It wasn't me (he finished, his gaze meeting Lon's.)
Lon: Take me back...
Lon's rage surged. He rushed forward, grabbing Henry's suit and shaking him back and forth, screaming into his face.
Lon: TAKE ME BACK!!
Outside the prison, Jack gasped, his eyes wide. Henry was gone.
Jack: Henry? Henry!
Meanwhile, Revan still clasped his head, his eyes turned in the direction Lon and Henry had been. Suddenly, blood poured from his eye sockets, his skin growing paler than ever. He touched his face, looking down at the blood on his fingers. Before he could react, Ezra appeared in front of him, delivering a punch that sent Revan sliding back meters. Revan, however, dug his feet in, stopping his momentum. Ezra prepared for another rush attack, but his eyes widened as he saw Revan's entire eyes, now completely pitch black.