The Fifth Spark pulsed harder.
The world shook with it. Molten rivers froze midair, only to crash back in exploding waves. Shattered stone hung suspended before gravity reclaimed it. The entire crater swelled with rhythm, as if every heartbeat belonged to Orin alone.
Floating in the storm, his small frame glowed like a broken star. Black arcs burned across his skin like tattoos. Blue lightning wrapped his limbs in serpents of light. White shards curved into a steady halo. Red pulses throbbed in time with his veins. And in the center, the Fifth Spark pulsed steady—golden-crimson flame with a white core, holding it all together.
Across from him, Draven stirred. Chains slithered from his body, barbed, dripping haze. His grotesque form cracked open further, ribs splitting as the True Maw yawned wider. It was no longer just a mouth—it was a black hole of teeth and shadows, pulling not only heat and rock, but air, light, and sound itself.
For a moment, silence crushed the coliseum. Even the screams of the crowd vanished, stolen into that abyss.
Orin's grin split bloody and stupid wide. "Big mouth, huh? Heh… then I'll give you the biggest punch I've got!"
He clenched his fists. Sparks spun faster, orbit turning like gears. The Fifth Spark hummed, steady, syncing every beat.
The tiger phantom roared into existence, stripes of black and blue lightning across its spectral frame. Dragon heads coiled from the orbit, four serpents snarling, teeth bared. Behind him, a wolf silhouette rose, fur bristling with storm sparks. Chains of storm light unfurled from his fists, whipping around like flails, each link glowing with fire and lightning.
They circled him, not chaotic, but in rhythm. A symphony.
The Fifth Spark pulsed again. The tiger's roar aligned with the dragon's hiss. The wolf's snarl echoed the chain's crack. All became one.
The ground broke apart as Orin launched forward. His storm fused, body blazing like a comet of sparks and lightning, phantoms howling at his side.
"SYMPHONY STRIKE!"
The words ripped from his lungs like thunder.
Draven roared back, his chorus of voices breaking into madness. "CONSUME!"
The True Maw split wide, larger than ever, swallowing half the molten crater. Its suction bent the very light, the sky warping into its vortex. Chains lashed, mouths screamed, haze poured like liquid night.
Storm and abyss collided.
The impact was apocalyptic.
Lightning dragons dove into the Maw's teeth, shattering rows in explosions of sparks. The tiger's claws raked across haze armor, tearing chains apart. The wolf comet slammed into Draven's core, fangs burying into the vortex. The flail smashed left and right, cracking the chains of his wings.
Orin himself drove into the center, fists blazing with all colors at once—black, blue, white, red, and the Fifth Spark's golden-crimson.
The collision erased sound. A dome of silence expanded, sucking in every scream, every prayer. Then, with a pulse from the Fifth Spark, sound returned in one catastrophic wave.
BOOOOM.
The crater walls collapsed outward. Molten waves surged high, spilling into the ruins of the coliseum. City walls far beyond cracked, towers falling. The crowd was flung back like leaves in a hurricane, some screaming, some praying, some silent in awe.
Above it all, two figures wrestled—one boy blazing like a storm symphony, one monster shrieking abyss. Sparks and haze tore the sky into strips of light and shadow.
Yullan clutched the railing, tears streaking her face, her voice breaking. "ORIN—!"
Code stood rigid, jaw clenched, eyes wide at the impossible clash. This is no longer a child. This is… He couldn't even finish the thought.
Orin's laugh echoed through the storm, mad and ragged. "Let's see whose song ends first, ugly!"
The Fifth Spark pulsed harder.
The True Maw widened.
And the world broke between them.