Light flared from the cosmic eye.
Dozens of soldiers poured into the temple—figures forged from molten gold and starlight, moving with cold, mechanical precision. Each step they took sent ripples through the floating ruins. Their hollow eyes burned like coals as they charged without hesitation.
Kratos exhaled slowly, tightening his grip on the Leviathan Axe. Frost crept along the etched runes, curling like pale smoke into the void. His gaze swept the battlefield—measuring distance, angles, threat.
Beside him, Asura's veins ignited crimson. Mantra surged through his body, six phantom arms shimmering into existence behind him, trembling with restrained violence. He cracked his neck once, a low growl vibrating from his chest.
"They never stop," Asura muttered. "Do they?"
Kratos answered with action.
The axe swung. The first soldier froze solid before shattering into icy fragments that scattered into the abyss. Another charged—only for Asura to meet it head-on. His fist struck like a falling star, crushing the construct's skull and sending its body spinning away before it dissolved into golden dust.
The temple erupted into chaos.
Frost collided with flame. Phantom fists tore through armored forms. Marble cracked, pillars splintered, and shattered stone drifted upward in slow, weightless spirals. The void itself seemed to recoil as controlled brutality and unrestrained wrath moved in deadly rhythm.
Moments later, silence reclaimed the battlefield.
The final enemy collapsed into stardust, glittering faintly as it settled across the broken floor. Asura lowered his fists, chest rising and falling, thin smoke curling from his glowing veins.
"Heh," he said, glancing at Kratos. "Not bad for someone who used to be a god."
Kratos wiped the shimmering residue from his axe, eyes narrowing just slightly.
"Not bad," he replied, "for someone who treats every problem like an explosion waiting to happen."
Asura blinked—then laughed, a sharp, genuine bark that echoed through the ruins.
Above them, the cosmic eye flickered.
A voice seeped through the air, layered and distant, as if reality itself struggled to carry it.
???"This outcome… was not anticipated."
Kratos and Asura looked up together.
"SHUT UP!" they roared in unison.
The eye dimmed—not vanishing, but retreating—its glow withdrawing into the cracks of the sky like a watchful presence choosing silence over exposure.
The stardust finally settled.
Beyond the temple, cosmic storms churned—lightning tearing through the void. Kratos lowered his axe slightly, studying Asura. The warrior still radiated heat, sparks snapping along his phantom arms, fury barely leashed.
"Your rage," Kratos said at last, voice even. "It clouds your judgment. Once… it nearly destroyed me."
Asura stepped closer, heat warping the air between them.
"Good," he said, eyes burning. "Then you know what it means to fight with nothing left to lose."
Kratos's jaw tightened.
"Recklessness gets men killed."
"And hesitation gets them buried," Asura shot back, closing the distance entirely. Frost hissed against heat as their power brushed the air. "I move when the enemy stands in front of me."
Kratos didn't retreat.
"I move when I understand what I'm breaking."
A pause.
Then Asura snorted, baring his teeth in a grin that carried both threat and grudging respect.
"Heh. Fine. Just don't slow me down when the next wave comes."
Kratos allowed himself the faintest smirk.
"I won't."
The temple rumbled.
Runes along the far walls ignited, pulsing like a living heartbeat. Shadows twisted between the pillars, folding at impossible angles. A presence pressed down on reality—vast, ancient, deliberate.
A voice spoke without breath.
???"Warriors… Children of Wrath… Why do you quarrel within the temple of Eon?"
Kratos and Asura stiffened, exchanging a glance.
No words were needed.
They both understood.
The trial was only beginning.