High above the collapsing plane, Reiga didn't wait anymore his single pale-blue iris flashed as he commanded the environment around his opponent. Below, the dark ocean reacted to the Black Dragon's sheer intent.
The Black Water beneath Yang surged upward, hardening in a split second into towering, razor-sharp spikes of solid black stone. They erupted out of the dark sea one after another, a relentless barrage of massive black spikes thrusting toward the sky.
Yang glided through the lethal forest with serpentine grace. His porcelain, faintly transparent body twisted and coiled midair, slipping through the small gaps between the ascending spires with precision. The jagged tips grazed his white scales, but Yang's aerial momentum remained flawless, his movement resembling a stroke of white ink cutting through a canvas of dark stone.
Suddenly, a colossal spike, far larger than the rest, pierced directly into his path. It was too close to dodge.
Without breaking stride, Yang whipped his long, slender form into a sudden axial roll. His body snapped around like a whip, his heavy tail driving into the side of the towering spear with devastating, bone-shattering force.
A deafening, glass-like rupture echoed across the sky. The massive stone spike pulverized into a thousand jagged fragments before falling back down and dissolving back into liquid Black Water.
Yang halted his movement, floating weightlessly a few dozen feet above the water. He turned his long, crocodilian head back, eyeing the sprawling field of black spires he had just evaded. Slowly, almost rhythmically, the spires began to lose their sharp edge. They melted down, turning into fluid dark streams that merged quietly back into the calm, motionless ocean beneath them.
'Because this is Albion's mind,' Yang thought. 'The world responds to what exists within him. Thoughts, emotions, and memories reshape this environment.'
Inside the Inner World the Black Water was never just fluid, it was a living, malleable psyche. Moments from Albion's past and the memories of his trauma could rise from the dark tide as real as stone and iron. Physical things that both he and the beasts could touch, walk upon, or shatter.
And because Yang and Reiga were born from that same mental wellspring—forged from his subconscious just as Amon had been—they held the same dominion over the tide.
Albion possessed the greatest potential over this domain through his Codex Magic, allowing him to reconstruct structures like iron pipes or summon detailed vestiges like Juvia and Gajeel. But the dragons moved the realm through pure intent.
A low, grinding rumble snapped Yang out of his thoughts.
Around him, six colossal black spikes burst from the tide in a rapid circular sequence. Before he could react, the columns angled inward, grinding together at their peaks to weld into a seamless, impenetrable dome of dark stone.
Within the sudden darkness, Yang was trapped. High in the sky, Reiga hovered beneath the hollow black sun, his white-hot skeletal plates emitting a steady, warm glow. His single blue eye stared at the dome with solemn understanding.
Neither dragon hated the other. They didn't possess the capacity for petty malice toward one another. They understood each other perfectly, because at their core, both were guardians. They simply guarded different, conflicting pieces of the same broken boy.
"You chose the wrong side," Reiga spoke. "You should have been on our side, Yang."
A thin, blinding needle of pure white energy pierced straight through the side of the black dome. Before the stone could crumble, the white laser swept around in a seamless, instant 360-degree circle.
The top half of the structure slid cleanly off its base before the entire construct shattered into dust, reverting back into black liquid that splashed harmlessly into the sea.
Yang emerged from the center, his translucent white scales gleaming under the pale sky. He glared up at the Black Dragon with intense, unyielding resolve.
Reiga's crocodilian jaw opened. He let out a soft, vibrating hum.
One by one, dense orbs of pitch-black energy manifested around Reiga's long body, arraying themselves in a sharp, lethal sphere formation. The spheres crackled with dark, unstable static. With a silent flick of his mind, Reiga launched the volley downward.
Yang opened his jaws wide, unleashing a roaring beam of white energy to meet the descending barrage.
The collision detonated in midair, blasting open a thick veil of black-and-white smoke that swallowed Reiga's position in the sky.
High above, he hovered within the dark fog, his sharp pupil narrowing as he searched the obscurity.
'Where is he? I can't track his presence...'
A sudden, sharp displacement in the smoke pattern was his only warning. Out of the wall of fog, a massive white tail struck Reiga directly across the skull.
The sheer physical force sent the Black Dragon spinning out of control, blasting him through the air in the opposite direction, far away from where Amon and Albion were.
Reiga's body slammed into the Black Water, skipping across the hard liquid surface like a thrown stone before he drove his razor-sharp talons into the floor, grinding to a halt with a harsh spray of dark liquid.
A thunderous, world-shaking roar tore through the realm as jagged arcs of purple lightning lashed wildly across the sky.
Yang descended from the upper currents, enveloped in an overwhelming, blazing aura of pure white energy. His scales were blinding, his aura radiating limitless, untamed force.
"Let's see if you can do anything about this!" Yang's voice echoed like a ringing bell. "You claim I chose the wrong side, but I believe that you and that boy chose the wrong side!"
Yang accelerated into a sonic blur.
He rammed his skull directly into Reiga's chest, driving both of their massive bodies across the obsidian plain. Yang's elongated form whipped around Reiga's frame in a lightning-fast coil, pinning the Black Dragon firmly against the hardened tide.
Reiga grunted, the air forced from his lungs as the immense pressure bound his limbs. He glared up into Yang's pale face, his jaw snapping with furious effort.
"I'm loyal to Albion because he represents my absolute desire to survive!" the Black Dragon snarled, his voice rasping with equal parts pride and pain. "Your existence comes from escape and imagination! My existence comes from self-worth and perseverance! That is why I will keep fighting—I will keep going until the very moment my body shatters!"
Reiga's jaws snapped open. He lunged upward, burying his interlocking fangs deep into the base of Yang's translucent neck.
A spray of deep, thick crimson blood burst into the air, splashing across the black floor with a warm, heavy metallic scent. Yang let out a piercing roar of pain, but his eyes flared with ferocious loyalty.
He snapped his jaws downward, sinking his own fangs deep into Reiga's body. The two massive dragons locked into a brutal, point-blank brawl, rolling across the black plain as crimson blood scattered across the dark landscape.
Far below, near the center of the realm, Albion lay propped up on one arm, his bare chest slowly knitting together.
He looked up at the distant storm of white and black energy. He couldn't hear the words passing between the two beasts, but his jaw remained slack in quiet awe.
'I don't even know how they're doing that...' Albion thought. 'It doesn't look like magic at all. It feels like something else entirely. But... I'm genuinely glad Reiga is able to hold his own right now.'
A chill ran down his spine as he saw the scale of their clashes. 'If I had to fight Yang by myself... or if Reiga turned his attention to Amon without me... the battle would be over in an instant. There wouldn't even be a fight. Dragons really are terrifying... even if they're just constructs from my childhood books.'
A strange, unnatural sound cut through his thoughts, a wet, violent impact, like a heavy object smacking against water at blinding speed.
Albion slowly turned his head toward the lower fight, his eyes widening in horror.
"You fakes..." Amon's raspy, stitched voice hissed through the air. "All of you... getting in my way!"
A metallic shattering sound echoed across the liquid floor. The heavy iron club that formed the left arm of Gajeel's vestige completely fractured, exploding into useless iron shrapnel.
"Come on! Just try and stop me, you fakes!" Amon screamed.
In a single, fluid motion, Amon stepped inside Gajeel's guard. Using the heavy purple energy cleaver in his right hand, he drove an upward, blinding slash directly through Gajeel's shoulder joint.
The vestige's left arm was severed clean off, spinning through the air before dissolving into dark gray ash.
Amon stood in the spray of fading energy, his three crimson eyes wide with maniacal delight. His dark stitches stretched painfully as his mouth twisted into a wide grin.
"You all bleed the same way!" Amon cackled.
Albion's breath caught in his throat. A cold sweat broke out across his bare, wounded chest as a wave of dread washed over him.
'I was wrong...' Albion thought, his eyes trembling as he watched Amon raise the second cleaver toward the defenseless Juvia. 'He's growing too fast.'