The general had split the blonde-haired man into half with a single swing, instantly killing him. Blood splattered across the cold metallic floor, and the man's body collapsed with a dull thud.
Before the group could even react, the general attacked again, this time aiming for the girl. She hastily raised a shimmering shield of energy, her hands trembling as she poured everything into it. But the machete cleaved through the shield as though it were glass, shattering it into fragments of light. In an instant, the girl was cut down, her scream dying as her body fell lifelessly beside her comrade.
In only a matter of seconds, the entire group had been reduced to corpses. Only Adrian remained, his chest tightening with dread as the general now set its murderous eyes on him.
Adrian's breathing grew ragged, sweat dripping down his forehead. His eyes darted around, frantically searching for an escape route, but every door was sealed shut. He was trapped with this monster—there was nowhere to run.
The general lunged forward, blade gleaming. Adrian managed to dodge at the very last second, the machete slicing the air where his neck had been. The force of the swing cracked the wall behind him.
The general struck again and again, aiming for Adrian's throat, his heart, and his limbs in a flurry of killing blows. Adrian's instincts screamed at him to move, and he barely slipped past each attack by a hair's breadth. The sound of steel cutting through air filled the room like a storm.
Finally, Adrian saw a small opening and, with all his strength, delivered a desperate punch to the general's side. His fist landed clean, but unsurprisingly, it had no effect—the general didn't even flinch.
The monster smirked and, moving faster than Adrian could react, seized him by the throat. Lifting him effortlessly, the general slammed him against the wall with bone-cracking force. Adrian gasped, his vision blurring, and before he could recover, darkness consumed him
The general raised its weapon high, preparing to deliver the finishing blow, but after a long pause, it lowered the blade. With a dismissive grunt, it left Adrian unconscious on the floor and turned away.
Meanwhile, in other parts of the battlefield, the other heroes fought tirelessly, cutting down aliens with relative ease. But with every small victory came sacrifice; a hero fell here, another there. Still, they pressed forward, carving their way toward the king of the aliens.
But their momentum began to falter. More commanders and generals appeared, their monstrous strength overwhelming the heroes. The tide of battle shifted, and the ground was littered with the dead and dying.
Amidst the chaos, the Light of Justice—Zavier—pressed forward, unyielding. He was close, only steps away from the throne room of the alien king. But his path was suddenly blocked as two towering generals emerged to confront him.
"Quite foolish of you to think I could be defeated by just two generals," Zavier said coldly, tightening his grip on his weapon.
"You underestimate us," one of the generals growled, his deep voice echoing across the battlefield.
"You can speak? That's surprising," Zavier replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't lump me with the others. I am no ordinary general. I am the strongest among them. The name's Gerald." His aura radiated crushing pressure.
Zavier's expression hardened. "I don't have time for this." In the blink of an eye, he vanished, reappearing behind the weaker general. With a sharp, precise kick, he sent the general smashing into a wall.
But Zavier's moment of triumph was short-lived. Distracted, he was struck by Gerald's crushing fist and sent skidding backward. Growling, Zavier unleashed his mind control powers, seizing hold of the weaker general. Under his control, the general attacked Gerald relentlessly.
Gerald, unfazed, grabbed his ally by the head and slammed it against the ground before head-butting him unconscious. He showed no mercy, not even to his own kind.
Zavier surged forward, unleashing a storm of punches. Each time Gerald countered, Zavier vanished, teleporting out of reach, striking again from another angle. The battle became a blur of speed and violence.
Yet even Zavier couldn't avoid everything. Gerald caught him, gripping his neck, and slammed him repeatedly into the wall before hurling him aside and finishing with a brutal kick to the stomach.
Zavier coughed blood, barely able to stay upright
"Oh? You can still stand after that? Impressive," Gerald sneered.
But Zavier had no intention of talking. He began teleporting rapidly, disappearing and reappearing every millisecond, leaving afterimages that confused Gerald. Frustrated, Gerald swung wildly, striking only empty air.
Zavier's relentless barrage of blows finally found its mark. Strike after strike landed until Gerald stumbled, and with one final crushing hit, Zavier emerged victorious.
Exhausted, bleeding, and barely able to remain standing, he staggered forward. His eyes locked on a towering door at the end of the hall.
"So… this is the king's throne room," he muttered under his breath.
And with slow, heavy steps, he pushed forward.