The desert gave way to jagged stone, the sands breaking apart into canyons and shattered cliffs. The further north Mike flew, the stronger the pull became. The Titan's essence leaked into the air, steady and unrelenting, dragging him toward it with every beat of his wings.
But the silence unsettled him.
There were no demons here. No angels. No signs of human life. Only the gnawing emptiness of the land and the thick, metallic taste of hunger pressing against his tongue.
"He's close" Bahamut growled in the back of his mind, the dragon's voice rumbling like a storm beneath the surface of Mike's thoughts. "This one hides beneath the earth. Patient. Festering."
Mike bared his fangs in a grin, the fire in his chest burning hotter. He wanted it to crawl out of its hole and face him, so he could see the fear flash in its eyes before he devoured it.
The ground below shifted.
At first, it was subtle, a tremor rippling through the stone, the sound of rock groaning. Then it broke. Entire slabs of earth split apart, collapsing inward as a pit of black earth yawned open.
Something was clawing its way out.
Mike hovered in the night sky, wings spreading wide, molten eyes locked on the abyss below. The scent hit him first, sour, foul, the reek of old blood and rotting flesh. Then came the sound: a thousand voices screaming from within the very essence of the thing that rose.
The titan emerged slowly, dragging itself upward on colossal arms of stone and sinew, its body a warped mass of bone, clay, and shadow. Faces flickered across its surface, stretching and vanishing like memories being erased.
Its head tilted back, and its voice rose, a low, resonant wail that shattered the canyon walls around it.
Mike's grin widened, claws flexing in the air. "Good," he growled, voice thick with anticipation. "Come out. Show me what you've got."
The Titan's eyes opened, two endless pits of darkness, staring directly at him.
And then, the canyon trembled again from something else stirring deeper within the earth.
The desert stretched into the north until it gave way to jagged canyons and broken plateaus, the earth itself splintered as though something had clawed at it from beneath. The air carried the stench of rot, not death, but wet, festering corruption, a scent that turned the stomach and made the sand itself weep black.
Mike's wings beat once, the gale scattering grit into the darkening sky. He could feel it beneath him now, the thrum of power too massive to hide. The Titan pulsed like a tumor buried beneath the earth, and each pulse made the ground crack and bleed.
The canyon floor split with a thundering crack. A tower of blackened flesh and stone surged upward, limbs fused with jagged bone and earth. A head rose from the ruin, a mask of stone shot through with veins of rotting essence.
The Titan spoke, voice like gravel dragged across corpses.
"Another false divine comes. You smell of many things. I see… you are that wicked dragon's successor."
Mike's chest burned with crimson fire as he descended, talons carving trenches into the canyon. His maw split open, laughter already bubbling up from his throat. "Yes. I'm your end."
The Titan rose fully from the chasm, titanic in form, his body seething with blight. Wherever his hands touched the canyon walls, the stone corroded, crumbling into black dust. The air shivered with his essence, entropy, pure and suffocating.
"I am Iapetus," he thundered, his voice rolling like an avalanche. "Father of mortal ruin, the Corrupter. I do not fall. I spread."
Mike's laughter sharpened, almost giddy. "Good. That means you'll last longer before I rip you apart." His wings flared, fire roaring down his throat as he surged forward.
Mike struck first. His jaws snapped onto Iapetus' arm, teeth carving through rotting stone and flesh. The Titan bellowed, swinging his other arm with a sweep that collapsed an entire canyon wall. Mike was hurled back, the impact splitting dunes into rivers of black sand.
He rose instantly, blood boiling with exhilaration. His scales had darkened since Koios' death, streaks of molten crimson cracking along his body. Each breath he took burned hotter, the fire laced with void.
Iapetus advanced slowly, each step cratering the ground. From his wounds, rot spilled outward, consuming stone, consuming corpses buried in the canyon floor. Hands clawed from the earth, corpses reanimated by corruption, their shrieks tearing through the air as they hurled themselves at Mike.
Mike tore through them with contempt, firestorms incinerating dozens at once, claws scattering them like insects. But he laughed while he slaughtered them, his voice echoing across the broken desert.
"Is this your strength? Corpses?"
"Mortality is my domain," Iapetus growled. "Even you, eater, will rot. Even your essence will sour."
Mike lunged again, his talons sinking into the Titan's chest. He ripped, scales glowing as he devoured a chunk of essence. The taste of corruption filled him, bitter, acrid, burning like acid but it only made his grin stretch wider. He felt his wounds healing faster, his hunger burning hotter.
"I don't rot," he snarled. "I consume."
The battle grew brutal. Mike's claws carved trenches across Iapetus' body; Iapetus' fists hammered down with the weight of collapsing mountains. Waves of entropy lashed outward, blighting the desert, turning rivers of glass into crumbling ash.
But Mike's laughter never stopped. Each strike that broke bone, each gout of essence he ripped free, filled him with exhilaration. He roared with glee as his fire scoured away legions of corrupted undead, his wings slicing down into the Titan's shoulders.
Bahamut's voice stirred within him, deep and approving.
"Yes, hatchling. Yes. Feel it. This is no burden this is glory. The fight itself is your purpose. Devour not only flesh but his power."
Mike bellowed in reply, his firestorm clashing with a tidal wave of rot. The desert shook, glass shattering beneath them, canyons collapsing inwards. He could feel it, his hunger, his joy, the intoxicating rush of fighting something vast and powerful.
And then light split the sky.
Mike's head snapped upward, his pupils narrowing as silver fire blazed overhead. Dozens of angels descended, their wings gleaming like molten blades, halos flaring bright as judgment itself. Their chants rolled like thunder, spears of light already aimed at both dragon and Titan.
"Unclean," their unified voices rang, harsh and absolute. "Abominations. We bring judgment."
Spears of light rained down, stabbing into Iapetus' corrupted flesh, blasting holes through the Titan's arm. He staggered but roared with defiance, his corruption spreading upward to drag them from the sky.
Mike snarled. Something in him snapped.
The battle was his. His prey. His joy.
And they had interrupted it.
"Feathered bats dare interfere! Kill them!" Bahamuts roar filled Mike's already burning thoughts.
With a roar that shook the desert, Mike launched himself into the air. His body coiled, wings snapping wide, and then he was among them. His claws tore through the first angel in a single swipe, his fangs snapping the second in half mid-scream. Fire erupted from his maw, crimson flame engulfing a cluster of them, their radiant wings disintegrating into ash.
They cried out in fury and he silenced them with rage. His tail smashed another from the sky, bones splintering like twigs. His jaws closed around a glowing halo, crunching it into shards that burned against his teeth.
"THE TITAN IS MINE!" Mike roared, blood and light spilling down his scales. "THIS IS MY BATTLE!"
The angels fought valiantly, but they were lambs before him. His fury only made his laughter sharper, manic, as he devoured them one after another. Their essence burned sweeter than the Titan's rot, but it was not about hunger. It was about rage, about denying anyone the right to interfere in his fight.
When the last one fell screaming, Mike hovered above the battlefield, drenched in blood and fire, his eyes blazing with molten light.
Bahamut's laughter rolled like thunder inside him, vast and terrible.
"Yes, hatchling. Yes! That is the spirit of a dragon. Let them come, the angels, the chosen, the pantheons, all are insects before the fight. You chose joy, and in that joy is dominion."
Mike's breath came heavy, fire still leaking between his fangs as his gaze locked back onto Iapetus. The Titan had already regenerated from the wounds Mike had already carved into him.
But Iapetus smiled through his twisted face.
"Good… good. You fight as you should. Come then, dragon. Let us finish it."
Mike grinned back, his wings beating once as he dove, claws extended, his laughter breaking the night.