The battlefield had become nearly unrecognizable. Craters pockmarked the ground, ice formations jutted at unnatural angles, and patches of grey-black flame burned stubbornly despite having nothing left to consume. The air itself seemed charged with residual energy, distorting perception like heat waves rising from scorched earth.
Three figures stood at the center of this devastation, each radiating power in distinct ways.
Lucifer's sword continued its haunting melody, the sound shifting in pitch and intensity as he moved. The pearlescent aura of his unified Yin-Yang energy flowed seamlessly between his body and blade, erasing the traditional boundaries between wielder and weapon. His God's Eyes, though still rimmed with dried blood, tracked every movement with preternatural clarity.
