One arm rose. A fist curled.
Then the other.
And before anyone could blink, Ra's stance mirrored Anaxagoras' exactly.
The smirk on Anaxagoras' face faltered ever so slightly.
"God's Copy…" someone whispered from the stands, Xolotl, his jaw tight, eyes widening.
The arena trembled faintly as Ra's fists began to mimic every subtle movement Anaxagoras made: the tilt of the shoulders, the angle of the elbows, the micro-adjustments of his feet. Every feint, every twitch, every approach he made, Ra copied perfectly like a reflection in a golden mirror.
Anaxagoras struck with a rapid jab. Ra's fist met his midair. Clang. The force of the collision sent sparks flying, illuminating the arena in jagged light.
"Interesting," Anaxagoras muttered. "You're learning."
Ra's lips didn't move. His face didn't betray amusement or fury. But his eyes burned brighter, pupils narrowing as if computing something beyond comprehension. The copy was perfect, mechanical, divine, and terrifyingly precise.
Each punch Anaxagoras threw was blocked or countered before it fully landed. A kick? Ra's leg lifted with uncanny accuracy. A feint? Already anticipated, already parried.
"Not bad," Anaxagoras said, stepping back slightly, testing him. "But the sun can't outthink the mind that studies it."
Ra adjusted his stance to match a slight shift in Anaxagoras' weight. He inhaled once. A controlled, measured breath and launched forward.
But this time, it wasn't a mindless mimic. It was anticipation, prediction, analysis. Every blow reflected Anaxagoras' speed and intent with a precision that only a god or perhaps something beyond could achieve.
The arena erupted with the murmurs of the audience.
"Impossible…" whispered King Enma.
"He's… becoming Anaxagoras," Perun said, incredulous.
Anaxagoras grinned despite himself. "I like this," he muttered. "A student learning too fast…"
Ra's fists struck again, copying, countering, blocking, driving Anaxagoras backward, not out of brute strength but sheer perfect mimicry.
And somewhere deep within that golden, blazing form, the god of the sun realized: he could not destroy what he could not predict.
Anaxagoras laughed quietly.
"God's Copy, huh?" he said. "Let's see if you can think while you copy."
Anaxagoras didn't have time to react.
Ra's arm shot around his neck in a vice-like grip. Headlock. The philosopher's head was pressed firmly against the god's shoulder, his body lifted slightly off the ground. Ra's other hand rose, fingers extended, forming a perfect gun-like shape aimed squarely at Anaxagoras' temple.
"Sun Blast…" Ra whispered, voice low, resonant, carrying the weight of the star itself.
Anaxagoras struggled, twisting in Ra's grip, but the god's hold was unbreakable, divine muscle wrapped in molten light, each heartbeat radiating heat that could melt stone. His glowing finger trembled slightly with anticipation, the faint hum of concentrated solar energy vibrating in the air.
"Funny," Anaxagoras muttered, his voice strained but steady, "I always thought the sun would warm me… not try to kill me."
Ra's jaw tightened, the golden glow from his eyes intensifying. The arena around them seemed to dim, shadows of gods and humans alike frozen mid-reaction, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Sparks of solar power began forming at the tip of Ra's finger, small fireballs spinning rapidly, ready to explode with unimaginable force.
"You've tested me," Ra said slowly, each word dripping with solar heat. "You've pushed me… laughed at me… mocked me… and yet, here you are."
Anaxagoras smirked faintly despite the pain. "And yet… I'm still thinking."
Ra's finger twitched. Light coalesced, forming a glowing, spinning projectile that hummed with the raw power of the sun itself. The arena trembled, debris shaking, dust and ash swirling in anticipation of the blast.
"You should have learned your lesson," Ra said. "Disbelief… does not save you."
Anaxagoras glanced briefly at the glowing finger gun, then up at Ra's eyes, calm, defiant, like a philosopher staring down a collapsing star.
"Lesson?" he muttered. "I've learned one thing, Ra… You can't trust no body."
Then, in one sudden, impossible motion, he shifted his weight, his body twisting with the precision of centuries of observation. Ra's grip on him faltered just enough.
Anaxagoras hooked his arms under Ra's torso, feeling the god's molten power thrumming like a live wire. The sunlight radiating off Ra was blinding, but the philosopher held firm, grounding himself with the constellations embedded in his body.
With a guttural effort and a sharp exhale, Anaxagoras lifted Ra off his feet. The arena trembled beneath the weight of a god, light streaking across the floor in radiant arcs. Ra's face registered shock, his finger still aimed like a gun, pointless now, frozen in midair.
"Not… possible!" Ra hissed, trying to shift his solar energy, but Anaxagoras' grip was absolute.
And then…
Suplex.
Time slowed. Ra's body arched through the air, golden light flaring in an uncontrollable explosion as his massive form slammed onto the arena floor with a deafening shockwave. Stone cracked, dust shot upward, and a low rumble echoed through the stands as if the earth itself had groaned under the impact.
"Man's Suplex…"
Ra's hands struck the floor, palms flattening, but the momentum carried him forward, light trailing like comet tails. For a heartbeat, the arena was silent, and then debris began to settle, revealing Ra sprawled across the floor, glowing faintly but visibly shaken.
Anaxagoras stood tall, chest heaving slightly, still holding his cane with one hand. A faint smirk touched his lips.
"You… you underestimated physics," he said softly, almost conversationally, "and humans."
"Round two?" he asked, calm as ever.
Ra's golden aura flared brighter, rising in a solar surge that lit the arena like dawn over a battlefield.
"Yes," Ra said, voice low and dangerous, "but this time… I learn from your moves."
Ra's body began to tremble. At first, it was subtle, a flicker in the golden light that clung to his skin. Then the air around him warped, heat rippling outward in waves that made the stone floor shimmer.
He planted both feet firmly, shoulders widening, arms slowly rising. Light surged from his chest, spilling across the arena like liquid fire, illuminating every god and human spectator. Dust swirled violently, caught in the rising thermal currents.
Ra closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. Then he opened them and the pupils had contracted into points of blinding brilliance. His aura expanded, stretching across the arena, then the coliseum itself, until the entire space felt like it was contained inside the heart of a star.
He lifted both arms high. The light around him condensed, spinning faster and faster into a sphere above his head. Sparks of plasma, shards of pure heat, and streaks of golden fire rotated violently, forming a miniature sun, suspended in the air. Its warmth was suffocating, its brilliance nearly unbearable to look at.
"The sun," Ra said, voice low, resonant, carrying the weight of celestial authority, "is not merely mine. It is me."
The arena quaked beneath the intensity. Stands shook. Gods grabbed onto railings, some shielding their eyes, others bracing for the inevitable blast.
King Enma leaned forward, a mixture of awe and fear flickering across his face. Xolotl's jaw tightened as he murmured, "He's raising the star itself…"
Anaxagoras, still standing calmly, raised an eyebrow, his cane tapping the ground in measured rhythm. Light reflected off his translucent, star-veined form, casting faint constellations across the arena floor.
Ra's sphere of solar power pulsed once, twice, then began contracting violently, radiating heat and energy so intense that it distorted the air, causing hallucinations of fire and light to ripple across the walls. Every god and human could feel the pressure, the crushing weight of a star condensed into a point above the arena.
"Anaxagoras," Ra said, voice deepening, almost vibrating with raw cosmic power, "I will end you. I will burn your essence down to the origin of thought itself."
The golden sphere grew brighter, almost unbearably so. Sparks streaked outward, disintegrating parts of the arena floor. Shadows twisted violently, thrown into stark contrast against the searing light. The heat made the air shimmer, bending the reality around them.
Anaxagoras took a single step forward, cane raised, but his voice remained calm, almost casual.
"You think brute power will stop a mind that doesn't truly die?" he said. "You may be the sun… but I've learned to observe it."
Ra's aura flared to its maximum. Light exploded outward, forming arcs of golden fire, miniature solar flares leaping off the sphere, each crackling with the intensity of the real sun. The arena seemed to be consumed in sunlight, the shadows of spectators reduced to glowing silhouettes.
Every eye strained against the light. Every god and human could feel the weight of annihilation poised above them.
Ra raised a finger, pointing directly at Anaxagoras.
"This ends now. Sun Blast: Aphelion."
The mini sun trembled, then imploded into a concentrated beam of searing light, aimed straight at the philosopher who had defied the impossible.
Ra raised both hands above his head, fingers splayed, and the very atmosphere warped. Stone cracked beneath his feet, the arena trembling as if it were a planet under siege. Heat waves rolled outward in waves, making the spectators stagger and shields flare with divine energy.
"I warned you," Ra's voice boomed, deep, resonant, carrying the weight of centuries and the light of a star. "No mortal can survive the sun's full wrath!"
Above him, the miniature sun condensed again far larger this time, its surface roiling with flares and plasma arcs. It twisted and stretched, expanding outward like a living star ready to erupt. The air shimmered with intensity, making the horizon blur, throwing shadows into sharp relief.
Anaxagoras, standing perfectly still, raised a single hand. His star-veined body glimmered, constellations rippling along his skin like a night sky in motion. The philosopher's eyes, calm and piercing, never left Ra's glowing form.
The blast fired.
It was colossal.
A roaring column of pure solar energy, a golden inferno that tore through the arena's center. The light alone was blinding, a searing heat that felt like it could melt continents. Flames of concentrated star fire licked the walls, burning away inscriptions and the ancient divine architecture, leaving behind smoke and molten stone.
The gods recoiled. Mercury stumbled back, horn clattering to the floor. Perun's hands gripped the railing, knuckles white. Even Zeus blinked rapidly, shielding his eyes, as the sheer magnitude of the attack threatened to engulf the entire coliseum.
Anaxagoras didn't flinch.
He raised both fists, stepping forward into the center of the expanding Sun Blast. His form shimmered, flickering between solidity and a translucent star-like state. The beam crashed against him.
And for a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then. he grinned.
The Sun Blast slammed into him with the force of a thousand suns, yet he did not burn. The energy bent around him like water around a stone, folding, twisting, redirecting the heat and light. Sparks of solar energy scattered outward, colliding with the arena walls and sending cracks racing across the floor.
"Good… job Ra."