The desert stretched endlessly, its sands whispering with secrets of blood long spilled. The shadow that had appeared at the arena's edge now stood revealed — a towering figure clad in obsidian armor etched with runes that pulsed faintly, like veins filled with molten fire. His helm concealed all but two hollow slits, from which a dim, predatory glow leaked.
The chains around Kairo rattled, restless, as if they recognized the enemy before him. His crimson eyes burned, unblinking, unwavering.
The Commander spoke, his voice resonant, carrying the weight of countless executions.
"Child of ash… bearer of the crimson gaze. You are not meant to exist beyond the pit. Yet here you stand. For that, you will be erased."
Kairo tilted his head slightly, expressionless. "If you came to kill me, then step closer. I am done waiting."
With a single step, the Commander cracked the sand beneath him. The air warped, heat rising like a furnace. He drew his weapon — not steel, but a spear formed of obsidian bone, its tip dripping with an ichor that hissed as it struck the ground. The desert seemed to recoil from its presence.
Then he moved.
The world blurred as the Commander lunged, his spear thrusting with terrifying precision. Kairo's chains lashed outward, intercepting, sparking against the corrupted weapon. The impact rattled his bones, the sheer force pushing him back several steps.
But he did not falter.
The bone blade answered his call, emerging from his arm in a grotesque bloom of white, serrated edges glinting beneath the moonlight. He slashed upward, meeting the spear again. The clash shrieked like tortured metal, and shockwaves tore through the desert.
Above them, the stars seemed to dim.
The Commander twisted his weapon, forcing Kairo down, his strength monstrous. "You wield the remnants of death itself," he said, voice echoing within the helm. "But power without submission leads only to ruin."
Kairo's chains slithered across the sand, coiling like serpents before striking. They wrapped around the spear, pulling, while his blade carved for the Commander's throat. Yet, impossibly, the Commander let go of the spear — and caught Kairo's strike with his armored hand. The sound was sickening, the serrated edge grinding against the gauntlet, but the armor did not break.
Instead, he drove a knee into Kairo's chest.
The impact was like being hit by a collapsing mountain. The ground cratered, sand exploding outward as Kairo's body was hurled across the dunes. His chest burned, ribs screaming, yet he rose again — slowly, relentlessly.
The Commander retrieved his spear, dragging it across the sand as though taunting him. "Rise again, boy. Let me see if your chains are more than noise."
Kairo exhaled, his breath fogging in the night air though no cold was present. His aura unfurled — heavy, suffocating, a stench of death that made even the sands writhe. The chains hissed, glowing faintly crimson as if feeding on his will.
"I don't care who you are," Kairo said, voice low but sharp, his eyes narrowing. "But if you stand in my way… I'll kill you."
The desert trembled as both figures surged forward again, spear and blade colliding in a storm of sparks, chains snapping like thunderclaps. The night became a battlefield of shadows and steel, and every clash promised blood.
And high above, unseen, Hades and Veyrith watched in silence.
"This," Hades murmured, eyes alight, "is where the true story begins."