DEATH REALM — BATTLEFIELD
Back on the battlefield, two warriors from radically different worlds and eras crossed paths.
The first wore the battered armor of a Roman gladiator.His name was Michelangelo, once a legendary champion of the arenas, forged by blood, screams, and steel.
The second, Kelly, was a modern-era soldier, fallen in combat, his assault rifle still firmly gripped in his skeletal hands.
Neither truly understood what was happening.Yet one truth was instinctively clear to both of them:
If they wanted to survive… they had to fight.
Without exchanging a word, their bodies moved before their minds could react.
Michelangelo grasped his sword as he had thousands of times before.Kelly raised his weapon, his movements precise and mechanical—the product of years of military training.
In this absolute chaos, where logic had lost all meaning, one reality remained:
Killing had become a reflex.
For them, violence was nothing new. It had been part of their lives long before death itself. They advanced through the battlefield, cutting down enemies almost naturally, taking grim satisfaction in every foe they defeated—like participants in a twisted game where only the body count mattered.
— Warrior! Michelangelo shouted as he skewered an enemy.What is your name?
— Kelly, the soldier replied without hesitation.Sent to the front lines to protect my homeland… and my family.
Michelangelo gave a bitter smile.
—Honorable.I am Michelangelo… but call me Angelo. Champion of the Roman arenas. I fought to feed my loved ones—before they were enslaved.
He paused, then burst into laughter.
— Ancient history. Today, I'm here to tear these enemies apart.
Kelly briefly lowered his gaze to the worn photograph attached to his rifle, stained with dried blood.
— I lost my family too… along with my life.I watched my brothers-in-arms die for me. They saved me… only for me to fall after them. Their sacrifice was meaningless.
His voice hardened.
— But as long as I can pull this trigger, I'll keep fighting.Until my weapon itself begs me to stop.
Their synergy was undeniable.
Michelangelo fought with an almost artistic savagery. His body danced across the battlefield, his blade piercing through enemies before twisting inside them, ensuring fatal wounds. He never stood still.
Kelly, on the other hand, was a ghost. Hidden in plain sight, he eliminated targets with surgical precision, aiming for skulls without ever revealing his position.
Thus, the second alliance of the battlefield was born.
Gradually, more alliances formed. The fighters began to understand that survival in this world could not be achieved alone. The race toward the ultimate rewards was not a sprint…
…it was a marathon.
Raw strength was no longer enough. Knowledge, information, and experience became weapons just as deadly.
One question haunted every soul:
Why am I here… and how do I escape?
As the battle dragged on, Michelangelo felt something changing inside him.The more he fought, the more a savage pleasure consumed him. He—Champion of Rome, undefeated for decades—could not fall here.
Then suddenly—
His sword shattered under the strain.
A moment of silence.
He refused to kneel.
Closing his eyes, he envisioned a new weapon. His burning will took shape. First, a faint glow… then a blazing crimson aura enveloped his body.
His aura became his sword.
At the same time, Kelly awakened a greenish aura, reminiscent of elite combat camouflage. He infused his bullets with this energy, allowing them not merely to kill…
…but to hunt their targets until death.
The battlefield exploded into a torrent of colors.
Only those with devouring ferocity and an absolute instinct for survival could reach Awakening.
Meanwhile, at the edge of the battlefield, Nakid and Ysabella were recovering their strength. Through the vegetation, they watched as aura clashes lit up the sky like a deadly fireworks display.
But they knew one thing well:
Lowering your guard was the first step toward a silent death.
If they wanted to survive…
They had to start forming a plan.
Perhaps even…
To escape this world ruled by the law of the strongest.