Extra broke free from the Protagonist's grasp, his eyes sharp with fury. Before either could react further, Plot Armor stepped between them and pushed both aside with surprising force.
"Stop it," Plot Armor said firmly, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "Alex is still fighting."
All three turned their attention back to the battle unfolding in Sinspire. Below them, Alex stood tall while the Antagonist lay on the ground, struggling to rise.
"Your name... Alex Darvin, was it? Ha... haha... ha!" the Antagonist laughed bitterly, blood dripping from his mouth. "Do you know why I am evil? It's not because I want to be. It's because I need to be."
He lunged forward, attempting to strike Alex, but Alex blocked the attack effortlessly and countered with a swift blow that sent the Antagonist staggering.
"In every story... in every form of art," the Antagonist continued, his voice desperate and raw, "I was the representation of evil. I needed to be EVIL so he could shine!"
The Antagonist attacked again, and again, and again—but Alex countered each strike with calm precision. The attacks grew weaker, more frantic, as the Antagonist's composure crumbled.
Suddenly, a loud crack echoed above them. A fracture split the dark sky of Sinspire. From the light that spilled through it, three figures descended: the Protagonist, Plot Armor, and Extra.
"Alex, stop!" Plot Armor called out.
Alex froze mid-strike, his fist inches from the Antagonist's face.
The Protagonist landed softly, a mocking grin on his face. "Look at what you've become."
The Antagonist, beaten and bruised, smirked through the pain. "I have become what you made me."
Protagonist turned away, ignoring the comment, and approached Alex. "Congratulations, Alex," he said with a sly smile. "For finally accepting me."
Without warning, Alex's fist shot forward and connected with the Protagonist's face, sending him stumbling back.
Both the Protagonist and Antagonist stared at him in shock.
"How?!" the Protagonist yelled, his voice a mix of disbelief and rage.
Alex stood firm, his gaze unshaken. The air around him shimmered with quiet, unyielding power. The war wasn't over—but something had clearly changed.