Golem's wall-like stance didn't budge. Every time Snake tried to find an opening, it was met with the same grinding impact, that heavy, immovable presence forcing it back. The connection between me and Snake was pulsing with strain — every rotation eaten away bit by bit.
It was like punching a stone wall that kept shifting to block every angle. My bey might be a balance type, but right now, it was just being dragged into a war of attrition I couldn't win.
If this went on, my spin would bleed out before I could land anything decisive.
Across the stadium, Gideon's smirk deepened. He didn't even need to shout; his voice carried over the crowd with deliberate clarity.
"Already slowing down? This is me just warming up. You won't last if this is all you've got."
I kept my eyes locked on him, my grip tightening around the launcher handle still in my hand. "Enjoy the confidence while you can."
He tilted his head slightly, provoking amusement on his face. "Confidence? No. I'm just showing you the difference between us."
A faint smile tugged at my lips. "No. You're just setting yourself up."
His expression sharpened, just enough for me to see the shift in his focus. That was enough.
I lowered my voice so only I could hear it. "You brought this on yourself."
And then I gave the command.
"Abyssal Vortex."
The stadium air shifted instantly — not in imagination, but in a way even the casual bladers on the sidelines would feel. A cold ripple crawled outward from Snake's position, bending the dust on the floor in an unseen wind.
Snake's spin deepened, a low, resonant hum replacing the usual metallic whir. The energy pulsing through our link sharpened, becoming a perfect rhythm, heartbeat to heartbeat.
The movement began subtle — a tight, coiling spiral around the center. Then, with each rotation, the arcs grew sharper, faster, the space between each path tightening until it became a spinning maelstrom.
The stadium lights dimmed — or maybe it just looked that way because of what was forming. From the spin pattern, a shadow rose, stretching upward until it towered over the stadium floor. The serpent's form emerged first as a silhouette — massive coils wrapping around an unseen core, the sheer size of it blotting out the air behind it.
Then, the details burned into focus.
Scales like blackened steel shimmered under the lights, each edged in a faint, unnatural glow. Along its body, faint lines of runes pulsed in deep violet, flickering as if alive. Its mouth opened in silence at first, rows of fangs catching glints of light before a deep, echoing hiss rolled through the arena floor.
But its eyes…
This time, they weren't the usual void-like glare from before. They burned a vivid, unnatural green, like the heart of some ancient storm trapped in crystal. The moment they locked forward, it felt like they were looking straight through everything in their path.
The coils spun faster, the phantom body moving in sync with Snake's actual motion in the stadium. Around it, the air warped — an invisible pull forming that made tiny bits of dust and loose debris tremble before lifting slightly off the ground.
The low pressure built fast. I could feel it through the bond — Snake's energy tightening, compressing, drawing everything toward the center. Each coil's movement added to the pull, creating the vortex.
It wasn't just wind; it was weight. The force dragged on everything in range, the center of the stadium becoming an inescapable pull.
The visual tore wider — the serpent's massive form arching upward, its head turning in perfect sync with my intent. The green eyes narrowed, focusing on Golem like prey it had already decided belonged to it.
A faint ring of energy traced itself in the air behind the serpent's head — a halo made of shifting glyphs, their movements alien, rotating like the dials of some long-forgotten lock. Lightning-thin lines of energy arced between the serpent's body and the stadium floor, the ground beneath it darkening as if scorched by shadow.
The hiss deepened, almost becoming a growl. The coils tightened around an invisible target, their speed multiplying until the air itself seemed to twist.
I kept my eyes on Snake's phantom form, the connection so strong I could almost feel the pressure in my lungs.
This was it — the Abyssal Vortex.
The serpent's head tilted back, green eyes blazing, the black coils drawing tighter around the core of the maelstrom. The glyphs flared, the glow along its scales sharpening like a blade's edge.
The air in the stadium felt heavier, every motion dragging slightly slower, like the vortex wasn't just pulling at objects, but at time itself.
And then, the head began to lower — slow, deliberate — aligning its gaze directly on Golem.
The crowd's noise dulled into a low hum, all eyes fixed on the black-and-green phantom that seemed to swallow the space around it.
The hiss rose to a sharp, ear-splitting pitch — the last sound before everything would change.