Under the dark blankets of the galaxy, stars sparkled brightly like scattered diamonds stitched into the vast fabric of night. Their faint glow draped the horizon in whispers of silver light. Nyxander's face tilted upward, his gaze fixed upon something suspended in the endless sky, as though the heavens themselves had birthed a rival.

There, standing midair as if the void itself bowed to become his ground, was a figure both majestic and terrifying. Its body, no longer beast but now wearing the shape of man, shone with a whitish-silver sheen, a divine yet unsettling luster. Etched across its skin were purple lines, flowing like rivers of molten light, converging into a pulsing circle etched upon its chest. From these veins, white flames burst forth, laced with faint streaks of yellow lightning, wreathing the creature's form in an aura of living fire.

Its head was sculpted with eerie precision, two sharp ridges like fangs jutted from the sides of its lower jaw, while the horn upon its nose had withered into near nothingness, sinking like a forgotten relic into its flesh. Its eyes, unearthly and commanding, bore purple sclera pierced by stark white pupils. Four jagged purple lines ran across each orb, dividing the pupils into eight symmetrical shards, like a divine compass charting destruction.

The Primordial Beast's monarch had shed its chrysalis, evolving into its completed form, a towering colossus of twenty-eight feet, radiating unshakable supremacy. Its gaze bore down upon Nyxander's comparatively small figure, an ocean of dominance threatening to drown him in silence.

Yet Nyxander's eyes did not falter. What began as surprise soon rippled into recognition, his brow arched, and a faint smirk curled at his lips. His gaze locked with the monarch's, not as prey to predator, but as equal to equal.

"What kind of expression is that?" Nyxander said, his voice carrying a venomous calm. With deliberate slowness, he raised his right hand to his left shoulder, tilting his neck until it cracked, then mirrored the motion with his left hand to his right shoulder. Bones snapped like distant thunder, a symphony of defiance. "I hate the expression emanating from your face."

Each step he took forward carried weight, the very void trembling beneath his advance. His body began to expand, air spiraling around him in wild torrents as arcs of white lightning crackled across his growing frame. His eyes split with fissures of light, shimmering with raw power, until his figure rose like a storm-forged titan, twenty-three feet of living tempest.

Both colossi now stood face to face, their gazes locked in a clash of unfazed dominance. It was not merely a meeting of eyes, but a war of wills, each daring the other to yield first.

"Interesting. This is your true form," the Beast Monarch finally spoke. His voice was bold and unyielding, heavy with such force that the void quaked under its weight, rippling outward until silence devoured the echoes.

"Sure," Nyxander retorted, his tone laced with scorn, "compared to someone who devours the existence of others just to crawl higher." His words struck like blades, his voice roaring back against the monarch's in a thunderous retaliation that cracked the silence apart.

The night's cold wind howled and fled from them, carrying whispers of terror into the dark. It was as though creation itself recoiled, the cosmos trembling, as if the universe screamed for survival before the storm about to unfold.

Nyxander's brow furrowed deeply, shadows folding across his face. "Looking at its height may deceive you of its realm. The first time I confronted it, I knew, this beast stood at the Paragon Realm, a place where strength itself bends the law of reason. Between us was not a gap, but a gulf as wide as the heavens. And now, its height has doubled, towering to twenty-eight feet. Normally, such size should mean equal footing between us, but no. The waves of energy it radiates still hum with the power of the Paragon Realm, yet at the same time whisper of a transcendence beyond. Its height and its power mock the very way we measure strength." His voice was low, almost swallowed by the hum of the beast's presence.

"Anyway, things have to be done." Nyxander clenched his fists, the air trembling as lightning burst across his knuckles, sparking like chained thunderclouds. He charged forward, faster than sight could trace, leaving only exploding arcs of lightning in his wake. The earth quivered beneath each step. As the distance shrank, he leaped, body cutting the sky like a blazing meteor, right elbow drawn back like a hammer forged by storms, left hand stretched forward like a spear of light.

The Monarch of the Primordial Beasts only watched, calm as a mountain unmoved by the storm. Its eyes gleamed, its stillness louder than any roar. Nyxander closed the gap, his voice breaking into the roar of his technique.

"Stormbreak Void Fist: Lightning...." But the words died on his lips. For at that moment, he saw it, the faint curl of a smile on the beast's lips. Time itself seemed to hesitate, dragging each second into eternity. In that stolen instant, the Monarch vanished from his line of attack, FUUUM! and materialized inches behind him, as if the world itself had betrayed Nyxander's movement.

Cruk! His throat seized; his eyes rolled to the edge of their sockets, catching the monstrous figure now looming at his rear.

"This is how you roll your punch, right?" the beast mocked, voice dripping with disdain as its fist coiled with unyielding power.

Nyxander's teeth ground together, a guttural roar ripping from his chest. "Aetherial Shroud Manipulation: Void Crystallization!" The void behind him thickened, condensing into solid crystal-like walls of nothingness, a barricade against annihilation.

But the Monarch's fist was merciless.

With a deafening crack, the crystallized void fractured, shattering like glass before a tidal wave. A hole tore open, and the beast's fist drove through, slamming into Nyxander's ribs with the weight of an ending world.

Pain exploded like lightning in his chest. His body, once unyielding, was now flung like a ragdoll wrapped in thunder. He shot across the air, a blazing comet of lightning tearing through the sky, smashing down once, twice, thrice. BAAM! BAAM! BAAM each impact carving deep craters into the earth as if the heavens themselves pounded him into the soil.

Finally, his body crashed with a final, bone-rattling blow, the ground bowing beneath him, swallowing him in a vast hole that yawned like a wound upon the battlefield.

"Kuf, kuf." Nyxander coughed away the dust looming across his face, the gritty veil clinging to his skin like a stubborn shadow. Slowly, he stood, the ground trembling beneath his massive frame as large debris slid and crumbled from his body like broken armor falling away from a war god.

Above him, the Primordial beast's monarch hovered, floating with a calm majesty, the air itself bending in quiet submission to his presence. Nyxander raised his gaze, his eyes burning like twin embers locked onto the beast's towering form.

"No matter how much you pulled off, you won't be able to lay your hand on me, much less a scratch," the monarch declared, his voice rippling through the air like a divine decree, not born of arrogance but of absolute domination.

"I accept that I previously looked down on you," the monarch continued, tone deep and unshaken, each word striking like a war drum. "That was a mistake I will never forget. Thanks to you, I will never again allow an attack to connect to my body."

"Risk," Nyxander muttered, his teeth clenched, the word hissing between them like sparks escaping a furnace.

BAAM! In the next instant, he leaped into the air, the earth beneath his feet erupting in a violent shockwave, sending dust and stone outward as though the planet itself resented his departure. He tore through the air with zero resistance, his body a thunderbolt made flesh, and in the blink of an eye, the gap between them dissolved.

"Stormbreak Void Fist: Lightning Rift!" His right fist twisted reality itself, carving a void where space split like fragile glass. The strike shot forward, a tempest of raw force, but the beast's monarch met it with ease, his right hand clamped down upon Nyxander's fist, space itself rippling around them like disturbed water.

"Is that a...." the monarch began, but his words died as Nyxander spun sharply left. His elbow bent like a coiled blade, thrusting toward the monarch's cheek.

Thud! The monarch's left arm shot up, blocking the strike, releasing a shockwave that cracked the air like thunder rolling across the sky.

"Aetherial Shroud Manipulation: Void Crystallization!" Nyxander roared. The void beneath his feet solidified into crystalline darkness, a phantom platform forged from nothingness. He stamped against it, flipping his massive body over the beast like a storm-tossed titan.

Descending in a blur, he roared again, "Stormbreak Void Fist: Lightning Rift!" His fist, a meteor of annihilation, screamed down toward the monarch's back.

But the moment it was about to connect, the beast monarch howled. A white flame burst forth, divine and merciless, engulfing his entire body. It roared alive, devouring Nyxander's fist in blinding brilliance and racing up his arm like a serpent of judgment. The fire kissed his flesh with searing hunger, spreading toward his body, its heat fierce enough to warp the very air.

Though Nullpoint swallowed the flame before it consumed him whole, the pain raged like wildfire in his veins. Nyxander staggered, his body writhing against the invisible burn, before plummeting earthward.

He struck the ground with bone-rattling force, his feet embedding deep into the earth, half his legs swallowed by stone as though the planet itself sought to anchor him.

Breathing heavily, Nyxander clenched his scorched right fist with his left hand, his gaze lifting once more, defiant, sharp, and unyielding, locking onto the beast's monarch still floating like a sovereign sun above. His glare was not of defeat, but of promise.

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