Sky Stones is no longer just blue or dark; the aurora of lightning and cosmic spirals compete to break the darkness. In the midst of a large crater left by the last explosion, Thor and Fitran stand facing each other, both out of breath yet refusing to fall. The temperature around them feels cooler, as if anticipating the magical explosion that is about to occur, the air vibrating with a tension that is almost palpable.
Fitran's body is covered in wounds, blood and sweat mingling, yet his spirit burns even brighter. In one determined movement, he summons Voidlight to his left hand and Excalibur to his right. The black-and-white light and the golden silver gleam clash around him, awakening a power never witnessed by anyone—neither human nor deity. His gaze is sharp and full of determination, his eyes blazing with an unquenchable fire of battle. As the weapons tremble in his hands, a wave of energy envelops the arena, creating gentle ripples in the air, like waves on the surface of a suddenly disturbed calm lake.
Thor's eyes widen for a moment, then his smile grows wilder. “Finally, you’re bringing out everything! Show me the power worthy of changing the sky!” His voice echoes, bouncing back with the force of thunder, and as he raises Mj?lnir, his body is filled with a flowing energetic light, making him appear larger, more terrifying. With every muscle flexed, his aura of power becomes increasingly tangible, stirring the dust around him.
Fitran stands tall, both swords raised. Voidlight absorbs all the darkness and destructive energy around, while Excalibur radiates a light of hope that cuts through the darkness itself. With every heartbeat, magical vibrations crawl along his spine, delivering a blazing flow of energy. In an instant, the Genesis magic surrounding him is drawn into the blades, forming a glowing aura that envelops his body, like sunlight piercing through dark fog.
He raises both swords high and whispers: “Duality is the nature of all worlds. From the void and the light, fate must be reforged.” His expression is focused, with furrowed brows and half-open lips, as if every word is a mantra summoning the highest power. Behind him, the sky bursts into color, like a canvas filled with vibrant hues pulsing in sync with his energy. He feels every explosion of magic, like the thumping of a heart echoing through the air, forming a battle symphony that shakes.
Hundreds of glowing glyphs and cosmic lines surround Fitran, dancing in harmony that vibrates the atmosphere around him. He spins with a confident movement, his feet striking the ground that trembles as if responding to the impending power. With burning spirit, he charges forward, both swords crossing like the charisma of an unstoppable warrior. Thor welcomes him, Mj?lnir crossed in front of his chest, his face showing unwavering determination, channeling all of Asgard's lightning into his gleaming hammer.
Fitran combines the two swords in front of his chest, his energy blazing, as if inviting a storm of magic. The black and white energy collides with a shattering explosion, creating a core of light the size of a mini-sun between his palms, shimmering in striking colors. A rumbling sound rolls through the air—not from the earth, but from the void between the stars, a resonance that raises goosebumps. As the sound echoes, an incredible pressure is felt, the temperature suddenly changing, feeling hot and cold at the same time, as if time and space have frozen.
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A mantra resonates, not from his lips, but from Fitran's very consciousness, his voice sounding like a distant song, calling forth the dormant energies:
“Ultimate Cosmic Magic — Genesis Annihilation: Where all light is born and all darkness ends, Let fate converge in one singular spiral!”
From both of his swords, a cosmic spiral explosion radiates, a strand of light spinning rapidly, piercing through space and time, absorbing all forms of magic around it. The deafening sound seems to shake the ground, while the blinding light creates strange shadows on the arena walls. Voidlight and Excalibur spin to form two light dragons—one black, one silver—that clash fiercely, creating flashes that seem to shatter the very fabric of the cosmos, then they merge into a single surge of energy, racing toward Thor.
Thor raises Mj?lnir, summoning the Final Tempest—a massive thunderstorm that unleashes milk-white lightning, creating a pillar of energy that touches the sky and the earth. The atmosphere instantly cools, as if time has frozen amidst the blazing weather. The two energies collide, creating a singularity in the midst of the Stones. The universe trembles, dimensions pulse, its heartbeat merging with the vibrating arena.
The next moment feels eternal. Time stops. All colors vanish except for two: Thor's blue lightning and Fitran's cosmic spiral. At the center of the battlefield, energy hums, creating an unmatched aura. Fitran darts through the swirling energy, both swords spinning, dancing like an eagle hunting, piercing through Thor's thunderstorm, slicing through the power of Mj?lnir, then exploding into thousands of tiny stars in the sky of Stones. The scent of metal and ozone stings, intensifying the tension of the moment. The echo of the explosion reverberates, and the ground trembles beneath the feet of each warrior.
Thor struggles to hold on, his hammer cracking under the pressure, his body pushed back, yet he laughs—proud and amazed by the human strength that refuses to yield. His expression transforms from despair to a burning desire, his eyes sparkling with an indomitable fighting spirit. With every heavy breath, he feels the temperature rising around him, as if the entire universe supports his struggle.
When all the energy finally subsides, only the glowing dust and the heavy breaths of the two kings remain. Their breaths sound labored, like the rumble of wind sweeping through the valley, creating a tense and hopeful atmosphere. Fitran kneels, both swords still crossed, his chest rising and falling as he struggles against the pain. His face shows tension, sweat soaking his temples, while his fingers gripping the swords begin to tremble, affected by the remnants of power flowing between them. Thor gasps, his knees touching the ground, Mj?lnir embedded in the smoldering crater, releasing smoke that hisses like wandering ghosts. The air around them feels increasingly hot, as if the laws of physics are being shaken, and the surrounding temperature rises, making their skin sweat.
Cosmic auroras and lightning intertwine in the sky of Stones, creating a pillar of light that pierces through dimensions. Its rays shimmer with shades of blue and purple, the movement of magical energy flowing like an unbroken river, releasing sparks that create a beautiful yet terrifying image. The deities, Rinoa, and all the inhabitants of the world hold their breath, realizing: the outcome of this duel will change the balance of power forever. Their expressions are a mix of hope and fear, speaking of what might happen if one side loses. One more step, and the fate of Stones—and the entire world—will be decided. That final movement will determine everything, making the souls of every spectator tremble, as if everyone is anxiously waiting for the critical moments in this thrilling battle.
