As they soared through the sky, Eiden clung tightly to the streak of green light tearing upward through the night. The world below shrank into a patchwork of dark plains and dead grass, the battlefield reduced to a distant scar beneath the moon.
The higher they rose, the thinner the air felt — cold, sharp, almost metallic. The wind roared past them, whipping Eiden's hair behind him as he held on, refusing to let Yajin slip away.
When they reached a height where the ground looked no larger than a coin, the pillar of light finally unraveled. It dissolved into drifting particles, scattering like fireflies over a vast plain of lifeless grass far below.
Yajin's body reformed first, his silhouette solidifying in midair. Eiden materialized beside him, both of them suspended for a heartbeat before gravity reclaimed them.
They fell.
Wind howled around them as they descended, their cloaks long gone, their chests bare beneath the moon. Eiden reached for the longsword at his lower back, sliding it beneath the metal sleeve on his right glove. The blade locked into place with a muted click, fitting perfectly against his forearm. With his free hand, he unsheathed his katana, its edge catching the moonlight as they plummeted.
Yajin glanced sideways at him, hair whipping wildly in the wind.
"You eager to kill me or something?" he called out, voice steady despite the fall. "I guarantee you, I won't die easily."
"I plan on killing you with all I've got," Eiden replied, eyes fixed on the ground, rushing toward them.
Yajin grinned. "Alright then."
The earth surged upward.
They struck like meteors.
A thunderous impact shook the plains, dust and dead grass exploding outward in a wide ring. The shockwave rippled across the field, bending the brittle stalks of grass flat before they slowly rose again.
For a moment, everything was swallowed in dust.
Then two silhouettes rose from one knee, standing meters apart as the haze thinned.
Eiden straightened first, katanas angled downward, the longsword locked against his arm, gleaming faintly. Yajin rose as well, brushing dust from his shoulder, the Sword of Judgement humming with a low, unsettling resonance.
"Eiden," Yajin said, voice echoing across the quiet plain. "If I die, you'll become a god soon. If you die, I will become a god—"
"Enough with your nonsense," Eiden cut him off. "It's time I put you down."
He raised his right arm, blade pointed directly at Yajin.
Yajin mirrored him, lifting the Sword of Judgement with a slow, deliberate motion.
The air thickened.
The wind gave a single long whoosh — then stopped entirely, as if the world itself held its breath.
White aura unfurled around Eiden, swirling around his blades like a rising storm. Green aura surged around Yajin, coiling upward from his feet to his shoulders, crackling with divine pressure.
Their voices overlapped, steady and resonant, carrying across the silent plains:
"Rise of the Eternal Gods."
The ground trembled.
The sky dimmed.
Their auras shot upward at the same instant, two pillars of light tearing into the sky. White and green collided mid‑air, clashing like opposing storms. The pressure rippled across the plains, bending the dead grass outward in a perfect circle.
The light grew brighter. And brighter. Until the world seemed to hold its breath.
Then—
Their auras erupted like twin suns.
A shockwave of divine force rolled across the land, and their silhouettes began to change within the blinding radiance.
The green light around Yajin thickened, swirling like a living storm. His body expanded, muscles tightening beneath skin that now glowed faintly with emerald radiance. His height surged until he stood as tall as an ogre, towering and imposing.
Three eyes opened across his face — the central one glowing brightest, pulsing with judgmental intensity. Each blink sent ripples through the air.
The Sword of Judgement lengthened in his hand, the blade widening and stretching until it resembled a slab of divine metal. Green sigils flickered around him, blinking in and out of existence like ancient runes remembering their purpose.
His aura wrapped around him like a mantle, forming faint, translucent shapes behind him — wings that weren't wings, shadows that weren't shadows — hints of a celestial form too old for mortal eyes to fully grasp.
The ground beneath him cracked from the pressure of his presence alone.
White light surged around Eiden, swirling upward in spirals that resembled halos breaking apart and reforming. His body grew as well, rising to match Yajin's towering height, his frame now carved with divine sharpness.
White sigils blinked across his aura, each one appearing for a heartbeat before dissolving into drifting motes. His blades radiated with intense brilliance — the katanas glowing like a sliver of moonlight, the longsword blazing like a star.
The longsword locked beneath his metal sleeve pulsed once — then fused deeper, embedding through his skin without harm, becoming part of him, a divine extension rather than a weapon he merely held. White veins of light traced up his arm from the blade, glowing like sacred circuitry.
His hair lifted in the rising aura, drifting weightlessly as if underwater. Behind him, faint outlines of colossal, luminous shapes flickered — not wings, not limbs, but something older, something that suggested the form of a god awakening.
His blades thickened, lengthened, and grew heavier in appearance, though he held them effortlessly. Each movement sent arcs of white energy rippling outward, distorting the air.
The earth beneath him trembled, unable to bear the weight of his ascended presence.
When the light finally dimmed, they stood across from each other — no longer men, but beings touched by divinity.
Larger.
Brighter.
Older.
More complete.
The plains felt smaller.
The sky dimmer.
The world quieter.
Two ascended forms.
Two destinies.
One inevitable clash.