***Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays to all my readers. I'll be busy with the family for the holidays, so I'll upload a few chapters now and see you guys after the holidays. I hope you'll all stay safe.***
The crowd had fallen into an unnatural silence—no chants, no jeers, only the pounding of a thousand hearts as two figures squared off.
Helios' breath misted in the night air. His body screamed from the wounds already endured, but his eyes burned with clarity. He lifted Equilibrium, shadows crawling along its length as the blade drank deep of his will. Silver light dimmed into black steel laced with violet veins, edges stretching, warping. The weapon pulsed once, then unfurled into its dark mode—Slánú na nDoimhneacht.
Darkness coiled around the blade like serpents, the weapon shifting between whip, sword, and hybrid forms with a sound like chains dragging across stone. Helios' own body shone faintly with opposing light, his veins alight with radiance. His frame steadied, wounds dulled, his speed heightened. He became a contradiction incarnate—darkness in his hand, light in his flesh.
Across from him, Sephiroth's eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight. Dark energy rose around him as Masamune drank from the abyss. The long blade pulsed, its edge leaking a deep blue energy, and Sephiroth's form blurred at the edges as if he stood half in another realm. The air warped around him, his every step scattering sparks of dark energy.
Their eyes met. The audience held its breath.
Then they vanished.
Light and shadow exploded across the arena as both fighters blurred into motion. Sephiroth teleported forward, Masamune carving a line through empty space where Helios had been. Helios vanished and reformed from the orb of light that appeared behind Sephiroth, Slánú lashing in whip form. The whip snapped, a streak of violet lightning racing for Sephiroth's spine.
Sephiroth's form flickered. Masamune cut sideways, catching the whip and sending sparks in every direction. Shadow Flares erupted around him—half a dozen dark orbs birthing themselves into existence and screaming toward Helios.
Helios raised a Reflect panel mid-dash. The first two orbs detonated harmlessly, light bursting outward. He twisted Slánú into whip-sword form, spinning the blade into an Umbral Spiral, deflecting the remaining Flares in arcs of violet fire. They veered wide and exploded harmlessly against the broken walls.
Sephiroth appeared before him in the same instant, Masamune already mid-thrust. Helios twisted, coating his blade in light and darkness both, the edges biting against the impossible length of Sephiroth's strike. Sparks roared as the two locked for a fraction of a second. Then Sephiroth's foot snapped up, boot crashing into Helios' ribs. The younger warrior went flying, Skidding across stone, blood spraying from his mouth.
Helios spun Slánú into sword form as he landed, light exploding beneath his boots to launch him back at Sephiroth. He slashed once, twice, the third strike accompanied by a snap of his free hand. Thundaga answered, bolts splitting the night sky and crashing down around Sephiroth.
The One-Winged Angel vanished, reappearing behind Helios before the lightning struck. Masamune whistled forward. Helios blurred into a sphere of light, reformed ten feet to the left, and whipped Slánú across the air. The blade snapped into Phantom Snare, chains of darkness lashing outward, catching the air where Sephiroth had stood. Empty.
Masamune flashed from above. Helios spun Reflect into a hexagonal plate, the strike crashing against it. The barrier shattered instantly but deflected the tip just wide. Helios countered with a Dark Firaga, fire soaked in shadow erupting from his palm. Sephiroth raised a hand, dismissing the sphere with a flick of darkness.
"Your melding magic into your swordplay has improved," Sephiroth said softly, his voice calm even as his body flickered forward again.
Helios grinned. "I had a good teacher."
Their blades clashed again.
Sephiroth's rhythm was impossible—slashes so fast the Masamune seemed to be everywhere at once, each one angled to trap, redirect, and crush. Helios bent his body into unnatural shapes, teleporting in bursts of light, countering with Slánú's swordwhip form. Every time Masamune pressed too close, he lashed out with whip arcs, driving Sephiroth's strikes slightly wide. Every time Sephiroth disengaged, Helios hurled spells into the gap—Firaga bursts to mask his movements, Aero gusts to launch himself higher, Blizzaga shards to cut across teleport trails.
But Sephiroth adapted. Shadow Flares detonated automatically from his steps, homing relentlessly. Helios threw Reflect after Reflect, chaining them together in angled bursts so each explosion became cover for his counters. Still, cuts began to line his arms and shoulders, each one evidence of Sephiroth's blade finding gaps.
Helios clenched his fist. A Magnet vortex tore open between them, pulling Masamune's trajectory inches off its intended line. For the first time, Equilibrium's dark edge grazed Sephiroth's coat. A shallow line tore through the leather.
Sephiroth's eyes narrowed.
Helios smirked, blood dripping from his chin. "Got you."
Sephiroth answered with silence—and speed.
He blurred into ten places at once, teleport after teleport, his body flickering through the stage like a phantom. Each reappearance birthed a fresh storm of Shadow Flares, a dozen black suns screaming for Helios. Helios exploded into an orb of light, streaking across the battlefield, Reflects bursting in his wake as the orbs detonated behind him. The Colosseum walls shook, dust and stone collapsing in cascades.
He reformed above, both hands gripping Slánú in whip-sword form. He dove, twisting into Vow Severance, the blade elongating mid-strike into writhing shadow, edges binding, locking for Sephiroth's body.
Sephiroth turned in a blur, Masamune cleaving through the binding tendrils before they could fully coil. The impact detonated, shockwaves rolling across the floor. Stone shattered, the stage groaning.
Helios landed hard, skidding backward. Sephiroth appeared before him instantly, Masamune raised high. Helios snapped a hand upward—Water burst from him, a torrent shielding his body, catching the descending blade just enough for him to roll aside. The water exploded into a spear that screamed toward Sephiroth. He cut it in half with one stroke, droplets sizzling into mist against his aura.
Helios rose, panting, sweat and blood running down his face. His hand twitched, dark energy curling in his palm. He shaped it, light fusing with shadow, forming something unstable. The air warped.
A wave of darkness ripped outward—Drain, his experimental spell. It howled for Sephiroth, a black tide meant to strip flesh and spirit alike.
Sephiroth caught it on Masamune's edge. The wave split like water around rock, bursting into harmless smoke. Sephiroth's eyes were calm, but his lips curved faintly. "Dangerous."
Helios grimaced. "Still figuring the spell out."
Sephiroth blurred again, faster than before, his entire body wreathed in darkness. His next slash came from nowhere, Helios barely managing to twist Slánú into Edge of Benediction, his blade burning with dark-light equilibrium. The two weapons clashed, and the moon itself seemed to tremble.
The Colosseum erupted in gasps, but still no cheers. It wasn't sport anymore—it was a war of gods.
They traded again—blows too fast for mortal eyes, teleport against teleport, spell against flare. Firaga Walls roared into existence, Helios scattering them with Aero bursts. Lightning cracked across the sky, water spears howled, darkness lashed and bound. Masamune remained inevitable, each cut carving through space itself, Sephiroth's body untouchable.
Helios fought harder, every spell woven seamlessly into blade strikes, every teleport chained into whip lashes. Still, blood poured from his side, his arm trembled, his light dimmed. Sephiroth, too, showed faint strain—the cut in his coat, the faintest mark on his cheek, the narrowing of his eyes.
They locked once more, Slánú in sword form braced against Masamune, sparks exploding into the moonlight. Helios' face was twisted in a grin, Sephiroth's calm unreadable. The ground beneath their feet split and caved, unable to bear the weight of their clash.
And then both vanished, light and shadow tearing across the battlefield, each reappearing in mirrored positions, blades raised for the killing stroke.