The crater had become a lake of fire. Lava frothed and churned below, its molten waves licking higher with every tremor. Above it all, two figures stood across the collapsing battlefield—an abyssal monster of chains and mouths, and a boy wrapped in orbiting sparks.
Draven's True Maw unfurled grotesquely, chain-wings spreading like broken wings of iron, each link dripping haze. Rows of jagged mouths opened across his torso, hissing and chanting as if a thousand throats groaned at once.
Opposite him, Orin's Storm 3 form burned steady. Sparks of black, blue, white, and red circled his small body like planets. Blue lightning coiled around him in serpents, snapping with draconic rage. Black arcs etched his outline, white shards spun like moons, red pulses boomed in sync with his racing heart. Every pulse cracked stone.
The crowd couldn't breathe. Silence drowned them, broken only by the molten roar of the flood.
Orin grinned, his lips split bloody, eyes burning pure white. "Ten seconds, big guy. Bet I can make you regret growing extra mouths."
And then he vanished.
The first step shattered the crater floor—One-Step Blur. Only sparks remained behind, whirling into a glowing circle.
He reappeared in a crouch beneath Draven's guard. Sparks tore open into the silhouette of a tiger, jaws wide. The phantom storm beast pounced with him—Tiger Blur. Orin's fist rocketed upward, claws of lightning carving across Draven's chest. The devil reeled, haze armor tearing, sparks detonating against his ribs.
Chains lashed in retaliation, but Orin had already moved. Another blur, this time vertical, carried him high into the air. Sparks gathered, orbiting faster, fusing into the serpentine heads of dragons. Four roars erupted as the sparks aligned—Dragon Hydra Spiral.
Four dragons of storm ki blasted outward, one red, one white, one black, one blue. Their jaws clamped on Draven from every angle, forcing him to stagger as the magma split apart beneath the impact.
The ground screamed. Lava geysers split upward, the crater shaking like the world itself would fall.
"RAAAAWRRRHHHHH!" Orin bellowed as he pressed forward, body sparking with more power than a frame so small should contain.
Draven hissed, chains spinning to intercept—but Orin grabbed one mid-swing, sparks embedding into its length. His grin turned manic.
"Mine now!"
He whipped the chain like a flail, sparks detonating along its links. Each swing rang like a thunderclap, smashing into Draven's haze armor, exploding in bursts of lightning. The devil staggered under the flurry of blows, each strike accompanied by explosions that lit the molten sky.
And then Orin blurred again, his body trailing a comet's tail of sparks. His hand curled into claws, beast stance locking in.
The silhouette of a wolf rose behind him—jaws open wide, fur bristling, sparks turning into a spectral mane. Orin plummeted like a meteor—Wolf Fang Comet.
His clawed fist drove straight into Draven's face. Bone and haze shattered, one of the Maw's screaming mouths snapping shut in silence as sparks erupted across his form.
The coliseum trembled. The lava surged higher. The crowd screamed in awe and terror.
On the rim, Code's fists clenched. He's combining every technique. No wasted motion, no scattered storm. He's… creating a style.
Yullan's lips trembled as tears streamed down her cheeks. "That's… that's Orin."
Down in the flames, the boy spread his arms wide, sparks orbit spinning faster, grin bloody and wild.
"See that? My turn to play fetch!"
Draven staggered under the wolf's comet strike, magma geysers splashing around his broken form. His grotesque body seethed, haze bleeding from a dozen wounds.
"PAIN."
"BREAK."
"DIE."
Chains spread, regenerating, twisting into spiked tendrils. The abyss flame clung to them, warping the molten air in waves of heat.
Orin licked blood from his lips, still grinning. "C'mon, scary face—don't go soft now!"
The devil roared.
Chains lashed outward like a storm of spears. Orin blurred, sparks orbit flashing as he slipped between them. But Draven adapted. Chains bent unnaturally, coiling midair. One snagged Orin's leg, another his waist, two more his arms.
"Oi! Not fair—!"
He was yanked and slammed into the crater floor, stone exploding under the impact. Blood burst from his mouth as haze chains constricted tighter, sparks orbit shattering.
The crowd screamed as Draven lifted him high, chains binding him like prey.
"BREAK!" the voices thundered.
The True Maw opened across Draven's chest, wider than ever, a black abyss lined with gnashing teeth. Its suction roared, dragging in lava, debris, even light itself.
Orin strained, sparks sputtering. His white eyes flickered, grin faltering. His body cracked, fractures running across his skin like glass. Blood streamed hot down his chest.
"ORIN!!!" Yullan's scream shredded the air. She fought against Code's arm, sobbing, her fists hammering against him. "Let me go—he's—he's—!"
Code's face was stone, but fury burned behind his eyes. "If you run in there, you'll die before you take one step." But so will he, he thought bitterly, heart pounding. Storm 3 is breaking him.
The boy sagged, sparks orbit collapsing one by one. The crowd's hope collapsed with it.
Draven's laughter swelled, maw pulling wider.
The storm was dying.
And then—
A flicker.
Not black. Not blue. Not white. Not red. Something else.
A spark appeared near his chest. Not a shard, but a perfect orb, glowing with impossible light—golden-crimson with a white core. Some saw gold, some swore it was violet, others silver fire. None could describe it, only feel their hearts seize at its birth.
It didn't orbit. It pulsed.
BOOM.
The other sparks froze, then fell into rhythm.
BOOM.
Black arcs wrapped tighter against Orin's skin, etched like tattoos of lightning.
BOOM.
Blue lightning straightened, winding around his limbs like serpents tamed.
BOOM.
White shards aligned, circling in a perfect halo.
BOOM.
Red pulses synced with the new spark, his heartbeat pounding with its rhythm.
The storm aligned.
The Fifth Spark became a conductor. The chaos storm turned symphony.
The crater shuddered. Lava froze midair. Stones hung suspended before shattering again.
The crowd gasped, some collapsing to their knees, some crying prayers, others shrieking "monster!"
Orin's head snapped up. His white eyes glowed faintly with streaks of gold. His grin returned—bloody, cracked, steady.
"Heh… guess Storm 3 just got… a conductor."
Draven snarled, voices fracturing into fury. Chains tightened, maw widening to swallow all.
But Orin's storm ignited again, harmonized by the Fifth Spark. Sparks shrieked in perfect rhythm, a storm no longer breaking itself.
The boy laughed raggedly, insane and defiant.
"Surprise, ugly! Storm 3's got an upgrade pack!"
The Fifth Spark pulsed harder—
—and the entire crater detonated in a shockwave of harmony and abyss colliding, storm against maw, swallowing the world in light and darkness.