Continuation
The impact of Null's descent should have leveled the city. Instead, when he hit the ground, there was no sound of shattering rock. There was only a wet, heavy thud.
Null didn't just land; he sank. His body, now jet-black and radiating a cold, dark heat, melted into the asphalt like hot wax. Within seconds, he had vanished beneath the surface, leaving behind nothing but a puddle of thick, obsidian ink that began to spread across the crater floor.
Aris stood at the edge of the puddle. His expression hadn't changed. His pale, clouded eyes didn't show fear or surprise—only a weary, professional boredom. He adjusted the grip on his solar blade, the heat of the weapon causing the air to ripple.
"Hiding in the dirt doesn't change the ending, kid," Aris said. His voice was a flat, freezing whisper. He stepped forward and plunged his sword into the center of the ink. He wasn't aiming for a body; he was aiming for the soul. The solar heat hissed against the black liquid, but the ink didn't evaporate. It grew.
I. The Contrast of Gods
The ink surged upward, trying to form its own dark territory, but Aris didn't let it. He slammed his single palm against the air, and the reality of the Silver District snapped.
[Executioner Style: Absolute White Domain]
Suddenly, the world didn't turn dark. It turned Blindingly White.
The city vanished, replaced by an infinite, sterile void of pure white light. There was no horizon, no sky, and no shadows. In the center of this blinding desert, Null's black ink looked like a stain on a fresh canvas. The Blood Sea of Null's inner soul tried to manifest, bubbling up beneath the white floor, but the pressure of Aris's domain was too great. The blood stayed trapped like a red ghost beneath a sheet of white ice.
"It's been years since I last stood in a space like this," Aris said, his voice echoing with a cold, hollow ring. "I remember you. I remember the version of you that actually knew how to fight. And still... you haven't made any real improvements. You're still just a child playing with his father's tools. Someone has to come out and put the dog down."
From the trapped ink, hundreds of figures began to rise. They were all Null—ink-clones, liquid and dark. Their eyes glowed with a dull, translucent grey light.
"We... are... not... a... child," the voices spoke in unison, a chorus of a thousand Nulls overlapping into one terrifying, distorted roar.
II. The Mower and the Grass
Aris didn't wait. He swung his sword in a massive, horizontal arc. The swing was so powerful it cracked the "White" of the domain itself. The shockwave hit the first row of clones, shattering them into droplets. But as Aris knew, you cannot cut water. The droplets simply hit the white sand and reformed instantly.
"Persistence isn't talent," Aris muttered.
He began to move. He was a blur of obsidian armor and solar fire against the white background. He hacked through the clones by the dozens, his blade moving like a reaper's scythe. But for every clone he destroyed, two more rose from the sea beneath the floor. Aris realized the trick. He closed his eyes for a micro-second, his pale pupils capturing the "Code" of Null's regeneration.
[Total Mimicry: Space Compression War]
Aris didn't just copy Null's elements; he copied the very concept of the ink. He forced the white space to Compress. Suddenly, the infinite white world began to shrink. The walls of light closed in, squeezing the clones together. They began to collide with each other, their "Liquid Void" forms becoming tangled and unstable.
The battle turned into a meat-grinder. Aris was winning by a mile. He wasn't just stronger; he was smarter. He used the clones' own momentum to trip them, slicing through their necks before they could solidify. He was a professional at work, clearing a room of pests in his own white slaughterhouse.
III. The Scar and the Blade
Through the chaos of the clones, the real Null finally moved. He and Aris charged at each other through the crowd of ink-shadows, two streaks of dark light clashing in the center of the white room.
Clang. Hiss. Boom.
Their blades met a hundred times in a single second. Every time Null tried to use his "Yin-Yang Paradox," Aris would mimic the frequency and cancel it out. Aris was a perfect counter. He was the wall that Null couldn't climb. Aris caught Null's blade in a lock. He leaned in, his face inches from Null's jet-black hair.
"You were smarter back then, kid," Aris whispered. He looked down at a jagged, white scar on his own stomach a wound visible through a gap in his obsidian armor. "You left this on me in the last life. I thought this time you'd actually finish the job. But look at you... desperate. Flailing."
Aris used his missing arm the ghost limb made of pure, compressed wind. It manifested from his shoulder and punched Null squarely in the throat with the force of a hurricane. Null flew back, his crown flickering, his dark wings tattered. He hit the white floor and tried to rise, but the "Space Compression" was crushing him. The White Domain was heavy, like being buried under a mountain of light.
IV. The Intervention
Aris walked toward the fallen Null. He raised his solar blade, the tip glowing with the heat of a dying star.
"One of us is dying today," Aris said, his voice as cold as the void. "And it isn't the man who remembers how to win."
He plunged the blade down. It moved with the weight of a mountain, aimed directly for Null's heart. Null's eyes widened, his 49% power flickering out, his body unable to move in the compressed gravity.
SHINK.
The solar blade stopped an inch from Null's chest. A new blade made of absolute, frozen darkness had intercepted it. The clash of the two weapons sent a ripple through the White Domain, causing the white light to flicker and crack like glass.
Fang stood over Null. His blue eyes were no longer calm; they were burning with a primal, ancient fury. His dark blade held Aris's solar sword in a dead lock.
"The kid isn't done yet, Executioner," Fang growled, his voice vibrating with a power that felt older than the King of Stone.
Aris narrowed his clouded eyes. For the first time in the entire fight, a small, cold smile touched his lips. "The wolf finally shows his teeth. Good. I was wondering when the real fight would start."