The planet beneath them groaned. Not because their powers were unleashed—no, that would have torn it apart already—but because their mere movements pressed reality to its limit. A sky that stretched wider than galaxies darkened as two figures stood at the heart of an arena carved by existence itself.
Lucien stood calm, his pale frame relaxed, Abyssal Eyes glowing faintly like twin lanterns in the dark. He didn't tense his body—he never needed to. His aura alone created a pressure that folded into stillness, as if the void around him bent to cradle him in silence.
Opposite him, Vryndor, the titan from this realm, rolled his shoulders. Tall, broad, wrapped in an obsidian mantle that glimmered faintly like molten cracks across stone, he looked every part the executioner. His fists clenched, veins of radiant energy pulsing beneath his skin.
Kaelith leaned against a pillar of crystallized light nearby, grinning ear to ear.
"Careful, Vryndor. You're not punching boulders this time."
Vryndor snorted, eyes locked on Lucien.
"Doesn't matter. If he bleeds, he's mortal. And if he's mortal—he breaks."
Lucien tilted his head, lips curling into that infuriating half-smile.
"Try, then. I'll let you."
The fight began not with words, but with a sound like thunder splitting the void.
Vryndor stepped forward—no, vanished—his heel cracking the ground beneath him. His fist tore through the air, straight at Lucien's face. But Lucien didn't flinch. His head tilted barely an inch, letting the blow graze his hair as if the strike were beneath acknowledgment.
Before Vryndor could recoil, Lucien's hand slid upward, open palm striking his jawline. It wasn't heavy. It wasn't brutal. But the timing—perfect—made the titan stumble back two paces, teeth bared in surprise.
"Precision over weight," Lucien murmured.
Vryndor's grin widened. "Good."
They clashed again—Vryndor's fists hammering down like falling meteors, Lucien weaving through them like drifting mist. Each dodge was razor-thin, his movements minimal, his counters sharp: a wrist tap that redirected, a knuckle that struck a nerve, a sweep that bent Vryndor's footing off-balance.
But Vryndor wasn't just brawn. He adjusted. His next strike didn't aim for Lucien's face—it aimed for the air behind him. The shockwave from the blow curved space itself, forcing Lucien to raise his forearm to block. The impact rang like metal on metal, pushing Lucien back a few meters before his boots dug into the fractured ground.
"Ah," Lucien said quietly, flexing his wrist. "You think with your fists. That's rare."
Vryndor smirked, charging again. "And you think too much."
The fight escalated.
Lucien leaned low, sweeping his leg—Vryndor leapt, spinning midair, heel dropping down in an axe-kick that split the ground like a canyon. Lucien rolled aside, hand flicking up, two fingers striking the titan's ribs.
A crack. Not bone—but energy—burst outward, sending sparks of radiant power across the sky.
Kaelith whistled from the sidelines. "Tch. He's tagging you, Vryndor. What happened to breaking him?"
Vryndor spat to the side, his grin never faltering. "Shut it, clown."
Then came the sequence that carved itself into memory.
Lucien: weaving in, low stance, fists striking like whispers—temple, shoulder, sternum, knee.
Vryndor: answering with brute force, each block shaking the air, each counter sending tremors across the planet's surface.
Every strike Lucien made looked effortless—minimal energy, devastating effect.
Every strike Vryndor threw was raw power—if one landed clean, the fight ended instantly.
They moved faster, faster—until their silhouettes blurred, until only the sound of fists colliding could be heard. Thunder rolled with every blow, light flared with every miss, and in the void between, Lucien's smirk sharpened.
"You're strong," Lucien said mid-flurry, voice calm despite the chaos. "But strength alone…" He leaned aside, letting a fist graze his shoulder. "…is predictable."
Vryndor's eyes narrowed. His knee shot upward—sudden, vicious. Lucien caught it with his palm, sliding backward, boots grinding into stone.
For the first time, Lucien's smile faltered into focus.
"Interesting. You're learning."
The planet cracked open beneath their feet, a chasm stretching for miles. Still, neither moved an inch from the clash.
Kaelith, watching, chuckled low. "This… oh, this is going to be fun."
And then—Vryndor pulled back, fist glowing, ready to throw something different. Lucien's eyes narrowed, his Abyssal gaze flaring faintly, sensing a shift.
The next move would decide who held the rhythm of the fight.