The sky of the Death Realm split with a rift that spanned heaven and earth.The black void descended like a cruel stage curtain.
Ethan and Ronan faced each other amid the crumbling ruins.
"Rebel."Ronan's voice was gravel scraping across sheet metal."That's your role?"
Ethan laughed, a spark-spitting laugh like severed wires."Better than 'Proxy.' At least I don't serve the Void tea and biscuits."
Their words sounded less like apocalyptic duel and more like office workers tossing blame. A resignation interview disguised as an end-of-the-world battle.
The first strike.Ronan swept up a storm of black paper, each sheet inscribed with a human death record, each blade-sharp."Don't you get it? Every death was scheduled. I just make sure they punch out on time."
Ethan blocked, his body slashed open, blood dripping like spilled ink.He sneered through the pain:"Punch out? You're a debt collector in disguise. Just one badge away from promotion to 'Assistant Manager of the Void.'"
The duel escalated.The Death Realm shook, its skeletal buildings splitting. Legions of wraiths surged from the ground, crowding in like spectators.
They clapped and howled, their chorus grotesquely synchronized:"Brothers, oh brothers, who's Father's favorite now—?""One a Rebel, one a Proxy, both just puppets anyhow!"
Ethan's chest clenched.
He remembered a fragment of childhood:A dark room.Another child's breathing in the corner.A shadowed hand offering him a crust of cold bread.
He'd never seen the child's face.But in Ronan's eyes—there, a flicker of that same familiarity.
"You knew all along, didn't you?" Ethan's voice was raw.
Ronan only laughed, absurd and bitter."So what if I did? Rebel or Proxy—we were cast at birth. You think we're fighting? We're just footnotes in the same family file."
Ethan's heart shuddered.Brothers.The Void had written them on the same page, only split their fates apart.
The second strike.Ethan unleashed the power of the Death God's Eye, black flames burning as he smashed through the paper storm."If we're truly brothers, then I'll wake you up. Stop being the Void's punchline!"
Ronan sneered."Punchline? Don't you see? The Void is the only audience. The harder we fight, the louder it laughs."
The irony was unbearable—two men tearing each other apart, while in a higher dimension, it was nothing more than free entertainment.
In the crowd, a wraith peddler sold candied souls. Others munched and cheered."Great show! Can we get a flashback scene? Maybe add some teary monologues?"
Ethan nearly coughed blood from laughter."Hear that? We're their Saturday night variety show."
Ronan's expression faltered, but he kept swinging destruction.
The battle tore the sky. The Death Realm itself wailed.
At last, both stopped, heaving for breath, eyes locked.
After a long silence, Ronan whispered:"Maybe… we were never enemies. Just trapped in different chapters."
Ethan gritted his teeth, forcing a bitter grin."Too bad the script says we kill each other. Fine. We'll kill—let it laugh. But don't forget—we'll laugh last."
Above them, the Void's laughter boomed:"Excellent. Fated brothers, keep dancing. The ending is already written."
And in that instant, their crossing gazes dripped with irony.Not enemies. Not allies. Just doomed actors, forced to stage a blood-soaked, absurd brotherly duel for the Void's amusement.