The weak die like ants, while the strong survive only in fear of their own downfall.

  Sluth thought this as he watched Fin punch a hole straight through his zombie brother.

  His wife and children—angels in his eyes, carved so perfectly they could have been statues in Akkad's honor—crumbled to dust as Olivia cut them down faster than a blink.

  But what of those caught in the middle of the food chain?

  What of those neither weak nor strong? Do they run like cowards, clutching at another tomorrow, or fight like warriors and hope for another day?

  Sluth never got the chance to choose. His body betrayed him—his head fell, tumbling into one of the tomb holes.

  He heard crackling thunder shake the pyramid as he drifted past the graves of his ancestors.

  Light struck him as he squinted into the flames. Not ordinary flames—no, these were phoenix flames, the kind only whispered about by his elders.

  The phoenix-like man fought Akkad, fire and ice clashing blow for blow, sparks and shards scattering like fragments of a broken sky.

  Blaze remembered his stick fighting with Bill as he carved a sword from his phoenix feather, aflame, and radiant. Akkad mirrored him, forging his own weapon of frost. Their swords collided, fire against ice, creation against ruin.

  Though Sluth was a mummy with no eyes, there was still a spark in his hollow sockets as he watched the duel unfold.

  "Only the strong truly hold the key to freedom,"

  he muttered as Blaze fully awakend—both man and phoenix—clashing with Bill the Scorpion. Sluth's sight couldn't keep up, so he described it to himself the only way he could: like a Leucospermum protea blooming against the wide sky.

  But then—like spotting a stain of mud on a princess's dress—his gaze caught something else.

  He wasn't shining, nor swift, nor strong. He moved like a shadow—blending with the darkness, not diminishing the beauty of the stars but completing it, like the night sky itself.

  Kael stood in the middle of the food chain. What was his choice?

  Would he fight like a warrior? Could he ever reach freedom?

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  No one praised the night—but they always praised the stars it carried.

  Was that his fate, too?

  "If only," Sluth whispered as darkness consumed him, "if only at the end of my life I could gaze into his eyes…" Then maybe I would know freedom."

  Light returned—in a distant place where pawns fell in a chess game between two women.

  "This boy, Blaze. He isn't truly of my blood. He was a failed attempt to recreate me. And yet… he wields my power well. I'm considering adopting him as my son."

  Fiona sipped her tea as her opponent slid her knight across the board.

  "If you deem him worthy, I won't interfere. Have you seen his future?"

  Fiona moved her bishop.

  "He has a tragic yet fascinating path. He walks my path. But…" she trailed off, her glow burning brighter.

  Her opponent tilted her head, waiting.

  "I attended one of those hero-choosing ceremonies. Their fates were already written. But one boy—when I looked into his eyes—I saw something else. His eyes… so deep, so beautiful, as if they could swallow me whole." Fiona smiled, her phoenix glow spilling into the room.

  "What is his fate?"

  "Not even I, the Goddess of Light, could see it. I looked, and all I saw was darkness."

  Her opponent trembled as she lifted her cup.

  The cup slipped from her pale fingers, shattering against the board.

  Two men robbed in white and gold dropped to their knees.

  "Madam—the clone phoenix is fighting Akkad. And… there seems to be another force. Dark. We don't know if it's ally or foe."

  "Do you know his name?"

  "His name is Mikael," her opponent whispered.

  Fiona smiled, eyes flashing. "Request a gate. I'll watch this fight up close. No interference."

  "Very well, madam."

  Fiona moved her queen.

  Her opponent's voice cracked. "I'm not ready to meet my son."

  "Checkmate."

  Sweat evaporated from my skin as I danced between lava cracks and ice shards.

  Bill and Blaze clashed, thunder ringing with every blow.

  The impact forced them apart. Blaze leapt—not like a fighter, but like a dancer—each step ending in a clash, each thud on the earth a strike exchanged with Akkad before retreating again.

  Akkad's tail shredded. His fists splintered before they reached Blaze.

  Akkad's heart raced. Fear coiled inside him—not of Blaze, but of the shadow.

  Akkad prided himself on detecting threats long before they came. But this shadow… he hadn't noticed it until it was too late. Until it felt like the reaper's embrace.

  My katana gave me eyes that could see the world in it spiritual state . I also felt like a spirit.

  The massive clash between Blaze and Akkad created a dark void which I entered moving like a shadow , my presence and moves undetected.

  That flow state allowed me to move across multiple dimensions hence seeing atleast 3 seconds into the future and being able to move fast enough to stop that future before it happened.

  Atleast that how I could simplify her explanation . Everything has a downside , 3 minutes and I'm a mushed potato. It like standing on water if the surface area of my spirit isn't equal to that of the radius I sink !

  "You moves before things become real."

  Whatever she meant.

  Blaze's feathers burst into clones, swarming Akkad.

  Akkad cut through the illusions, lashing out with whips of ice. I lunged, severing his arms and legs, leaving only his head clinging to survival.

  Blaze appeared before me, his fist burning, harnessing the dragon, striking Akkad with a critical blow.

  "Spirit displacement ".

  His cold hand caught me first.

  "You're a dangerous pest," he hissed, freezing me solid.

  "H.."

  Akkad in a spiritual state smiled.

  " I've lived over a a thousand years don't underestimate me child. Though it took some time to understand your power , I couldn't fully grasp it but I knew I had to attack your spirit directly ".

  Amara smiled, "I guess defeating a demon like him isn't easy . He saw through your weakness, to enter in this state you need a door and to leave it you need that door to be opened, he just happened to find the opening... "She froze along with me.

  Blaze impaled him from behind—but it was only a clone that crumbled to snow.

  "If that boy were born centuries ago, he would have been a god," Akkad murmured, stepping toward Blaze, who stared at my frozen form.

  "But in the end his a mere child"