The battlefield trembled as though the earth itself feared the Ghostface Group's Supreme general Kane Eguchi's presence, each stone vibrating under the weight of inevitability.
The air grew heavy, pressing against the lungs of every spectator, forcing silence upon even the most defiant voices.
When Kane finally raised his hand, the atmosphere screamed, a soundless cry that reverberated in the marrow of all who bore witness.
Reality bent, the arena warped, and time itself shuddered as though struck by a colossal hammer. For the first time, Kane unleashed his dominion, and the world recoiled in awe.
It was not fire, nor shadow, nor bone, nor any element that mortals could grasp with their feeble senses.
It was inevitability, the unyielding truth that no force could resist, no dominion could defy.
The crowd gasped as the battlefield froze in an impossible silence, a silence so profound it seemed to erase the concept of sound itself.
Dust hung suspended in the air, each particle a frozen star in a cosmos of halted motion.
Embers halted mid-fall, shadows locked in place like statues carved by eternity's hand.
Ban Nakajima's claws, sharpened by fury and honed by countless battles, stopped inches from Kane's chest, frozen in defiance yet powerless in execution.
Yoi Ohara's mist, curling toward Kane with serpentine hunger, froze in a coil that seemed sculpted by divine artistry.
Both warriors, embodiments of dominions that had shaken kingdoms, were trapped in the grip of time itself, their wills rendered meaningless.
The audience leaned forward, their eyes wide, their breaths stolen by the impossible sight.
The battlefield had become a painting, a tableau of halted violence, a shrine to inevitability.
Kane's eyes glowed with a cold, timeless light, a radiance that seemed to pierce through the illusion of mortality.
He stepped forward, and with that single motion, the frozen battlefield obeyed, reality bending to his stride.
His first lashed out once, striking Ban with a force that transcended mere strength, a blow written into the script of existence.
His palm pressed once, shattering Yoi's skeletal frame, the brittle dominion of shadow undone by the weight of inevitability.
The blows landed in silence, yet their impact echoed louder than thunder in the hearts of all who watched.
Time resumed, and with its return came devastation.
Ban and Yoi were hurled backward simultaneously, their bodies crashing into the stone floor with a force that shook the arena's foundations.
Embers scattered, shadows dissolved, and the arena shook with the sound of their defeat, a sound that reverberated like the tolling of a funeral bell.
Both lay motionless, their dominions extinguished in an instant, their legacies shattered by a single heartbeat of inevitability.
The silence that followed was not peace but terror, the hush of those who had glimpsed the impossible.
The crowd erupted in disbelief, voices clashing in a storm of awe and terror, a cacophony that could not mask the trembling of their souls.
Monarchs leaned forward, their faces pale, their crowns trembling in the warped light of Kane's dominion.
They had witnessed fire devour shadow, bone crush flame, and shadow consume bone, but now they had seen time itself erase both in a single heartbeat.
The hierarchy of dominions, once thought eternal, had been rewritten in an instant.
The monarchs' eyes reflected fear, for they knew that inevitability bowed to no crown.
Kane stood tall, his aura rippling faintly, his expression unreadable, a figure carved from inevitability itself.
He had not fought with desperation, nor fury, nor the reckless abandon of warriors who cling to survival.
He had simply decided the outcome, and reality had obeyed, bending to the decree of his dominion.
His presence was not that of a warrior but of a sovereign, a ruler of existence itself.
The battlefield was no longer a place of contest but a stage upon which inevitability had performed its truth.
"The semi-final is over," Kane declared, his voice calm, cold, and absolute, a decree that resonated beyond sound. "Time has chosen."
The words fell upon the crowd like a verdict; a sentence passed by eternity itself.
The arena was silent once more, the crowd struggling to comprehend what they had seen, their minds clawing for reason in the face of inevitability.
Sai's fire had burned, Ban's bone had endured,
Yoi's shadows had writhed, but Kane had ended them all with a particular use of time magic.
The semi-final was decided, and Kane Eguchi and Sai Fukuda had won, their victory carved into the annals of inevitability.
The crowd's disbelief lingered, their voices hushed by the weight of what had transpired.
Kane's aura dimmed, yet its echo remained, a reminder that inevitability could never be forgotten.
The arena itself seemed scarred, its stones whispering of the moment time had bowed to Kane.
And now, the final awaited, the clash where time itself would face destiny, a confrontation that transcended mortal understanding.
The whispers of the crowd grew into murmurs, then into chants, each voice trembling with anticipation and dread.
Destiny, the force that guided kings and kingdoms, would stand against inevitability, the truth that erased all paths.
The monarchs leaned forward, their eyes wide, their breaths shallow, for they knew they would witness the collision of absolutes.
The arena, scarred yet unbroken, prepared itself for the final act of inevitability's tale.