The fight exploded into motion. But even with lives on the line, our heroes carried dangerous confidence.

Ashly rocketed forward on a wind blast, movements surgical, strikes precise. But Sol was simply faster. His smirk stayed plastered on his face as he weaved through fists, kicks, air slashes, gusts. Ashly's frustration climbed with each miss, the gap between them brutally obvious.

"Reminds me of something." Sol ducked under a haymaker, silver lightning crackling along his skin. "You pulling the same ambush trick twice? That's just lazy."

"Stop. Talking." Each word came with a strike aimed at his face.

Sol sidestepped like he was dancing, then drove his fist into her stomach. Everything froze. Then she flew backward, hitting the stone riverbed hard enough to crack it.

Sol rolled his shoulders like he'd just finished stretching. "Real talk? You're not even the one I have beef with." He tapped where Nova's metal shard had pierced him. Eyes drifted toward the other fight. "Sister's got way more attitude. Better match for Neiva anyway."

"Can you just SHUT YOUR MOUTH?!" Ashly's control shattered. "I don't give a damn about you! Nor her, not even HIM!"

"No?" Sol slid his hands into his pockets, silver darkness coiling around him like lazy smoke. "Then what's the point of this? Why throw your life away?"

"The point?!" The word came out venomous. "Master gave me an order. That's all the point I need!"

"Loyalty like that..." Sol's gaze flicked to Neiva for a heartbeat. "Yeah. Seen it before." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Can't wrap my head around it though."

"Of course you can't." Her response came sharp as broken glass.

Sol watched her carefully, something clicking. "Wild shot here—the Sundering Flames drama? The whole Infernia-Luminia war? None of that matters to you, does it?"

Ashly tried finding his angle. Gave up. "You got that right. My world begins and ends with Master." She made a dismissive gesture. "Everything else can rot. Infernia. Luminia. The Sundering Flames. Every bit of it."

"Huh." Sol's hum carried thought. "Well, fighting you doesn't really appeal to me either. So why do it?"

"So you can't interfere with Master's kill." Blunt. Cold.

"Counter-offer." Sol said it like proposing a lunch trade. "We both stand down. I don't help Angelo. He's on his own. Deal?"

Ashly looked confused, then insulted. "You're joking!" She parsed his intent. "Either you're delusional about your friend's chances, or you're mocking Master." Her eyes became slits. "If its the latter—"

"Easy." Sol's voice stayed smooth. "No disrespect intended. If your boss didn't have Luminian civilians on his conscience, we'd probably get along fine." His attention shifted to Angelo and Dray's clash. "But Angelo? Red? Blue?" Something absolute settled in his silver eyes. "Those three are a monster in the making. World's just too blind to see it yet."

Neiva and Nova squared off. Blue eyes burned into brown. Metal against metal. Both armored—Nova wielding twin razor swords, Neiva gripping her moonlit scythe.

They moved as one. Weapons shrieked through air, meeting in a burst of sparks. Neiva's scythe buckled. One of Nova's blades caught the head while the other carved through the shaft with a loud snap.

Neiva bounded back instantly. "Shit." Frustration twisted her face as she stared at the severed weapon. "Don't celebrate yet!"

"All bark, no bite!" Nova's sneer dripped contempt.

Neiva ditched the broken scythe. Fresh metal blades formed in her palms.

Nova paused, confusion flickering. "Hold on. Why not use these ones?" She nodded toward the swords at Neiva's waist.

Neiva's eyes dropped briefly. "Make me." Simple. Cold.

She launched herself forward. They became a tornado of clashing steel—Neiva deflecting, weaving, striking at gaps. But Nova had experience on her side. More raw strength. Denser blades, sharper edges.

Snap.

Neiva blocked. Her conjured swords broke clean through.

She leaped away, but Nova pressed hard.

Neiva created blades mid-dodge. Way less durable. Nova hammered relentlessly.

"HIYAAHH!"

Neiva kept retreating, parrying each onslaught, shedding blade pairs like snake skin. The pattern repeated. Again. Again.

Nova spun up a metal buzzsaw in mid-air. It screamed above her palm before she hurled it like a frisbee of death. Neiva shot metal cables to intercept—the saw chewed through them. She dodged by inches, but Nova was already there. Blade screaming toward her face.

Neiva twisted hard. The blade sliced her chest armor apart. She jumped back, arm covering her torso.

"Yes!" Nova's triumph rang out. "Got you!"

Neiva lowered her arm slowly. Auranium under-armor gleamed beneath—barely scratched. Her smirk could've cut diamonds. Nova's face contorted with pure rage.

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"Alright." That single word from Neiva made Nova freeze.

"What—"

Neiva's hands crossed to opposite hips, finding the real swords. "God, I hate this. But you pushed me there." She drew them inch by agonizing inch. Her aura stuttered, then restarted—color bleeding to venomous yellow.

Nova's shock was total. "Those blades... identical to his... and that aura—you're a goddamn Duoron?!"

Neiva's giggle was wrong. All wrong. "Ready to dance again, bitch?"

"You little piece of—"

The giggle came again. "Funny thing? I used to hate that word so much. But saying it myself?" Her grin widened. "Kinda see the appeal now, actually."

"I'LL RIP YOU TO SHREDS!" Nova exploded forward like artillery, both blades angling from different vectors. Chest completely exposed.

Neiva could've ended it. One strike to that opening. Instead, she met Nova's blades with her own. Nova's shattered like glass. Nova stumbled, landing right in front of Neiva—bewildered, off-balance.

"Hah!" Air blasted from Nova's lungs as Neiva's boot connected with her stomach, sending her rocketing into a river stone. The boulder exploded. Nova's blood mixed with water.

Nova dragged herself up shakily, breath ragged. "That's Force aura... isn't it... and that silver crap..." Blood dripped from her mouth. "Cheating whore..."

Neiva giggled again. "Want a confession? Sometimes I'd use cheat codes in single-player games. Never online though." She tapped her cheek like pondering. "Mostly 'cause I'm not a hacker, honestly."

Nova wiped crimson from her face, spitting more. "Laugh it up. Won't last. Not after Master Dray guts that boyfriend of yours."

Every trace of playfulness died instantly. "He's not my boyfriend." Neiva's voice went arctic. "He's infinitely more important than that." Her expression turned to stone. "And yours? He's the one bleeding out tonight."

"Yeah right!" Nova's fists clenched. "Only found two counters to his Hellflame so far. Energy damn sure isn't one." Confidence leaked back into her voice. "Entire town threw everything at him once. His Black Sun ate it all. Your Angel of Death's getting cooked. Literally."

Neiva's tongue clicked in disappointment. Shaking her head like a disappointed teacher. "History lesson time. Those two who crushed his Black Sun?" She gestured lazily toward Red and Blue behind Angelo. "Right there. Don't you wonder how?"

Nova's eyes went wide. Before sound could escape her throat, Neiva spoke again.

"Just watch."

Angelo and Dray locked gazes. Dray's eyes—sickly grey-white, dimmed instead of glowing. Angelo's burned like molten steel, boring into his soul.

Trinergy Armor gleamed around his frame. Chest plate, gauntlets, leg guards. No helmet—his Trinergy jacket hood served that purpose. Angelo's arm extended. From deep inside the CampShip, Mercy's Edge answered his call, flying to his palm.

Dray's eyes went wide. "You just... controlled a weapon beyond visual range, from that distance..." Genuine shock colored his voice. "Should say I'm impressed. Honestly? I'm speechless."

Angelo laid his scythe across his shoulder. "Got a whole arsenal of new tricks since last time. Should've accepted my offer when you had it. Should've changed." His eyes blazed beneath the hood. "You are beyond redemption now."

Dray's hum was thoughtful. "Your judgment holds no weight with me. Whether you label me evil or not—irrelevant." Head shake, gaze going distant as fury built. "I'll admit though... part of me wishes circumstances were different. Someone with your potential could've reached legendary heights." Voice turned razor-sharp. "The exact kind of person Flint would've admired... if you hadn't BUTCHERED him!"

Angelo's rage matched instantly. "He was massacring innocents, you delusional hypocrite!"

"OOOOHHHHH!" Dray shot forward like a black comet.

"HAAAHHHHH!" Angelo met him head-on.

Armored fists locked mid-air, both warriors straining against each other. Mercy's Edge floated beside Angelo like a watchful sentinel.

"Fool!" Dray grunted, triumph spreading across his features. "Direct contact with my flames? Suicide! Your armor—" The words died in his throat. Angelo was smiling. His grip on Dray's hellflame-wrapped hands, tightened.

Total shock consumed Dray's expression. His legendary fire—the one that bonded to any surface, consumed everything, burned until nothing remained, not even water survived it. The flames only a tiny handful of Aurons could extinguish.

His hellfire refused to stick to Angelo's Trinergy. Wouldn't spread. Wouldn't consume. Just... made contact. Nothing more.

"No... impossible..." Dray's whisper came hoarse. "IT CAN'T BE—"

Angelo's gauntlet interrupted his face.

"HEYYAAAHHHH!"

Dray plummeted, cratering into the ground.

Dray's eyes opened to Angelo's palms aimed at him, strange silver energy swelling.

"TRINERGY BOMB!"

The projectile plunged like a meteor. Dray rocketed sideways—the shockwave still caught him, sent him tumbling. Mostly unscathed. But Angelo was already closing in, orange wings driving him forward, Mercy's Edge singing its death song.

Dray swiped with massive tar-arms. Angelo carved through the black flames like warm butter. When Angelo reached striking distance, Dray screamed desperately.

"BLACK SUPERNOVA!" Wrapping himself in a cocoon of writhing hellfire. Angelo sliced straight through it. Through the gap, Dray's horror was visible.

"Pointless." Angelo's voice stayed flat. Simple. He swung again.

"Hellfire..." Dray sucked in air. "ROARRRRRRR!" Black flames erupted from the cocoon. Angelo actually dodged this time, the fire stream chasing him—but evasion was trivial.

Angelo dove in again. Dray attacked with hellfire. Angelo dodged or carved through it.

The truth became brutally clear to everyone watching—especially Dray. With his hellfire completely neutralized, he had to fight on skill alone.

And he was lacking.

Blue adjusted his forged energy glasses, created specifically for this gesture. "Precisely as predicted."

Red's smirk was vicious. "What? That Trinergy dunks on sticky fire, or that without it he's garbage?"

Another glasses adjustment. "Both. As hypothesized, the constant internal repulsion among the three energies generates a surface that, molecularly speaking, his flames cannot bond to whatsoever."

"Heh, yeah." Red agreed. "And just like baby brother, his evolved ability carries him Harrrd. Strip that away and..." Red gestured at Dray desperately fighting for survival. "Well, see for yourself."

Angelo moved superior, countered superior, fought superior. Dray was learning a harsh lesson.

"Master!" Ashly and Nova both screamed from their paused battles.

"My liege!" Lavvy's distant voice came from the trees. Nobody acknowledged him.

"Master, we need to pull out!" Ashly's shout cut through the chaos. Sol didn't stop her.

Dray dodged another slice, incinerated an orange tether, deflected an orange blast. "I—" Complete loss paralyzed his face. Teeth grinding over the impossible choice. Maintain pride, fight until the end? Or flee with his tail between his legs, survive, and return stronger?

While he wrestled internally, Angelo prepared his finishing strike. "Prepare for speed boost. On my signal." He told the others through their link. Both nodded. Red could practically taste victory and it tasted like iron.

Angelo positioned his scythe, wings angling precisely. "Time you learned why this is called Mercy's Edge." Then mentally: "NOW!"

Trinergy detonated from his wings, launching him at Dray exponentially faster.

Dray couldn't adapt to the new velocity. Instincts barely saved him from bisection—but Mercy's Edge punched through his Auranium under-armor, carving a deep ravine across his entire torso. A choked "Gah!" escaped as he dropped like a stone.

"Dray!"

"Master!"

"My liege!"

Three voices screaming as Ashly and Nova shot forward to catch their falling leader. Before contact, Dray's face twisted with agony and determination as he extinguished every black flame around him. And possibly, any hope of victory along with it.

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