The Architect's laughter filled the cosmos, its form a grotesque monument to vengeance. But from the serenity of the ethereal realm, the serene god with the blindfold heard his brother's challenge. He had watched in sorrow for millennia, waiting for his brother to find peace. Now, he knew there was only one path left.
A shaft of pure, unblemished light pierced the corrupted sky. It did not tear at reality like the Architect's power but descended with the gentle authority of creation itself. The crystalline creatures and shadow beasts faltered as the light washed over them. The serenegod, brother to the Architect, was manifesting in the physical world. His form was not that of a warrior, but of a colossal figure of pure, flowing white light, his serene and perfect face still hidden by his blindfold.
The Architect's laughter died in its throat. A flicker of something akin to surprise, then pure, unadulterated rage, filled its being.
"Brother," the serene god's voice resonated through the world, a sound of perfect harmony and deep sadness. "This madness must end. You have suffered enough. Let go of the vengeance that consumes you."
But the Architect was beyond reason. It had been driven by its rage for too long to simply let it go. It saw its brother's purity as a mockery, a symbol of the divine right it believed it had been denied. It didn't want a conversation. It wanted a war.
"I have no time for your pleas, brother!" the Architect roared, its voice a storm of pure wrath. "You stand as a symbol of the world that betrayed us! And I will end you with it!"
Without another word, the Architect attacked its own brother. A colossal wave of corrupted energy, a maelstrom of shadow and chaos, surged from its body, aimed directly at the serene god. The blow was meant to not only destroy him but to corrupt the very essence of his purity.
The heroes on the ground—Aki, with Lyra's essence humming in his veins, and the now powerless trio—could only watch in a state of utter shock. A new war of the gods, more terrible than the last, was beginning right before their eyes, and they were caught in the middle.
"Then you don't give me a choice!" the serene god's voice reverberates, a sound of profound sadness.
From the shimmering light that forms his body, a second weapon takes shape. On his right, a sword of pure, unblemished light, radiating the quiet calm of creation. On his left, suspended in the air, a sword of the same light, but this one is a shield, a perfect mirror that absorbs and reflects chaotic energy. His form is not that of a warrior, but of a sorrowful father forced into a final, heartbreaking battle.
The Architect laughs—a terrifying, booming sound that cracks the very ground beneath the heroes' feet. It doesn't bother with weapons. Its rage is its blade, its vengeance its shield. It lunges forward, a colossal fist of solidified shadow and chaotic energy. The serene god meets the attack with his twin swords of light.
Their clash is not a simple fight but an epic conflict that tears at the very fabric of existence. The impact of their blows shatters mountains and turns rivers into steam. The serene god's pure light meets the Architect's raw chaos, but it is a losing battle. The Architect, fueled by a thousand years of bitterness, is faster, more brutal, more merciless. It does not want to win; it wants to destroy. The serenity god fights with the defensive grace of a protector, but the Architect's blows are savage. The pure light on the serene god's form flickers as the Architect's strikes land, and a wound of pure shadow opens on his shoulder. In return, the serene god manages to land a clean hit with his sword of light, causing a part of the Architect's shadow-form to dissolve in a wail of fury.
But the Architect is relentless. It sees the serene god's purity as a weakness. With a final, monstrous roar, it lands a devastating blow to the serene god's torso, a hit so powerful it sends him flying into the sky like a broken puppet. He disappears over the horizon with a final, heartbreaking echo of sorrow. The Architect stands victorious, its massive form heaving, its laughter a cruel, mocking victory cry.
"You are weak... brother!" the Architect sneers, a tone of utter contempt in its voice. It looks down at the terrified heroes on the ground, its gaze falling on Aki. Now, only they stand between it and the world it so desperately wants to destroy.