Umbra-Khalid has always been a symbol, not a weapon. But when Fitran refused to engage in the realm of meaning… Umbra responded in an unexpected form: the violence of reality.
In a single breath, Umbra's world—long since existing in incomplete language—condensed. The earth was formed.
The air became dense. Gravity was created only to be defied.
As Umbra witnessed the change that shattered the balance, despair enveloped them. In those tense moments, each individual could feel the energy radiating from the chaos that ensued. The darkness surrounding Umbra now resonated with notes of sorrow and rage, as if the world itself was crying out against the transgressions taking place.
Fire and ice collided, producing sparks that sparkled like falling stars in the dark night. Every movement was charged with tension; the magic energy turned a deep blue, its intensity felt at the fingertips. Fitran rushed forward, like the wind howling in the midst of a storm, carving a serpentine path to dodge deadly attacks. The air around him quivered, forming waves of silence that held the breath of the entire world.
The shadowy wings of Umbra flapped, conjuring a dark storm akin to a forest ravaged by fierce winds. Throughout the battle, shimmering orbs of light coalesced, appearing delicate and vibrating as if ready to burst. Each time this magic was unleashed, the ground trembled, eager to listen, to feel, and to honor the vital ritual unfolding before their eyes. It felt as if an invisible bridge connected the beauty of magic with the fiery emotions behind every movement.
When Fitran launched his attack, the light he emitted resembled a blooming meadow, glowing with a mysterious aura. His breath danced amidst the brilliant light, as if every sigh was a spell reminding him of the hope that lingered. The dimness of darkness revealed their past, waving memories intricately folded within each shadow. At that moment, the battle transcended mere strength; it was about souls merging in a magical yet melancholic harmony, striving to find one another amidst the chaos.
"You have chosen a painful path, Fitran…" a gentle voice like a whisper echoed through the heavy air around them. This seemed to cool Fitran's heart, yet his spirit burned even brighter. How powerful is the love that drives the soul to act, even when faced with scorn and emptiness. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the courage to confront whatever Umbra opposed.
With strong determination, Fitran understood that love could be the most powerful weapon, illuminating the darkness with hope. However, that strength must be coupled with decisive action. As if sensing this longing, the world around them trembled, anticipating the next step in the inevitable battle.
As the air surrounding him warmed with a flickering energy, Fitran felt his heartbeat resonate with the beautiful chimes that sang the song of war. Each sound felt like a prelude to the fate that had been written. The whispering wind carried the scent of damp earth, mingling with the remnants of hope and fear in their hearts. The light of Excalibur shone like a lost star, piercing through the enveloping darkness, affirming its presence in this perilous journey.
With a slow motion, Excalibur emerged from the side of Fitran's back. Yet, unlike its previous incarnation, this sword shone with a magical aura that made it appear almost alive. Wisps of blue and purple energy slithered along its blade, as if holding the power of the warriors who had wielded it in the past. How majestic it was when the weapon responded to the determined touch of its owner, confidently affirming its presence.
As Excalibur glistened under the dim sunlight, Fitran felt his fate intertwine with a greater story. In an instant, the shadows of fallen warriors gathered around him, their eyes filled with hope and an indomitable spirit. An ancient power seemed to awaken forgotten memories: the souls of warriors who had once sacrificed everything for justice. "Let us prove it, Excalibur—we will not give up!" he shouted, his voice breaking the tension in the air.
With fervent spirit, Fitran stepped forward, wielding Excalibur with elegance. Each swing of the sword channeled ancient incantations capable of splitting reality itself. Waves of energy spread around him, igniting a brilliant light. "This is our moment! Let everyone see that true warriors never retreat!"
In the profound silence, the light from Excalibur radiated like stars in the night sky, creating a shimmering trail in the thick air. Every movement Fitran made intensified the energy around him, as if he were carving the heavens with light. As his sword surged forward, shadows from the past danced around him, trapped in an endless web between life and death.
Even without the presence of sound, Excalibur communicated with the universe, expressing a determination to shatter the boundaries that bound it. The sword's aura blazed, and the rupture of energy enveloping Fitran created an illusory realm that seemed to draw all beings into the grasp of its power. Suddenly, the shadow of Umbra appeared, like smoke dispersing, challenging the light with its darkness, creating a striking contrast. This was the prologue to a monumental change that would shake every aspect of reality.
It does not shine. It does not sound. Yet it carves the air as if the air were fabric
Sword Magic: "Noctis Tempest: Wave of Reality Breaker"
As Fitran swung it:
The space cleaved into a vacuum, as if time itself hesitated to bear witness. A flash of energy surged forth with the strength to tear the flesh—remember, this is not just a battle; it is a clash between light and darkness, between hope and despair.
Dark waves sliced through all physical particles, stripping the earth of all that is mortal. Cracking and rumbling sounds emanated from the unstoppable wave, as if the universe growled with unspoken rage. Fitran felt the tremor within his soul, as if all the beings he had ever met whispered in his ear, encouraging him.
The Land of Umbra lifted black particles from memory and materialized them into rubble, creating an architecture of darkness that surrounded him. From that darkness, faces emerged faintly, conveying sorrow, reminding him of the battles he had faced. "I do not wish to kill you, Umbra. But I will remove you if that is the only way to erase the trace of pain."
Everything around them fell silent, as if the universe was holding its breath. The sound of battle lust surged within Fitran's soul, while shadows of the past rolled like a storm in his mind. His magical energy felt increasingly ignited, the dark aura vibrating around him, creating a thrilling field of power. In the profound silence, pain and hope clashed in a mute struggle, adding depth to everything flowing between them, like a river harboring dark secrets. Every inch of the atmosphere was filled with lethal potential, creating tension that kept every fiber of his being alert.
Umbra, standing before him, took a deep breath as if gathering all her lost peace within. With a sharp gaze, she attempted to grasp the power surrounding them, measuring the strength of her opponent and identifying the right moment to strike. "You won't be able to erase those memories," she said in a hoarse voice, heavy with the weight of the past. Despite the desire to fight, a flicker of confusion emerged as Fitran realized that more was at stake than just this battle. The unspoken rumble within seemed to echo in the air, encompassing all doubts and certainties that enveloped every upcoming move.
Umbra opened her chest—not with a wound, but with an orbital line. A flickering blue-gray light pulsed as if drawn by an invisible gravity, radiating an aura from distant stars. For a moment, it resembled an artist painting a cosmic masterpiece, each stroke imbued with stories and signs of dark dialogue. From within her body, thousands of comet fragments emerged—hot stones glowing in blue-gray, and red plasma flares that weren't burning, but altered the direction of gravity. The fragments glimmered like shards of light trapped in the pitch-black night, symbolizing power contained in an unparalleled form. Each comet fragment left a trail of light as it shot forth, illustrating tactical maneuvers as they moved unpredictably, as if dancing across the magnificent night sky, merging in a harmonious yet tense motion.
Each fragment of the comet strikes with urgency, racing at unpredictable speeds to form striking webs of light. The mystical aura of this blend of magic creates an illusion, making Fitran feel as if he is at the center of a distant galaxy. It is as if he is trapped in a swirling black hole, with every movement of Beelzebub intensifying the pull of her gravitational forces, like an unavoidable magnetic attraction. The loud booming of battle shatters the silence of the night, echoing like a symphony of destruction. In the heat of the confrontation, every sound and light collaborates in a haunting harmony, depicting a struggle not only between two souls but also between painful pasts and hopes for a better future.
"You do not understand what you are facing, Fitran," Beelzebub shouted again, asserting her intentions. The cosmos between them seemed distorted by the forces they unleashed, creating an atmosphere of pressing tension. This was not just a battle; it was a demonstration of inner conflict, a desire to heal the past and leave a mark that was more than mere wounds.
In an instant, the space around them seemed to vibrate as if drawn to a singular focal point, like a tent trembling in the midst of a storm. The energy radiating from both sorcerers intertwined like strands of light, producing strokes that shattered the silence of the night. Every movement of Umbra emitted the ferocious kiss of the cold night wind, while Fitran's aura vibrated warmly, struggling against the creeping chill.
"Cometum Ruina" – a solid comet of discarded existence debris, emerged from Umbra's palm. A blend of deep blue and black smeared across the sky, creating a flash resembling a blazing shooting star. It was as if the universe itself responded to their fury, hellfire vibrating beneath its flames, creating a mesmerizing visual effect.
"Flare Haeresis" – a burst of plasma igniting the very fabric of reality, scorching the surrounding magic. The bright red light surged like a mystic flying freely, unfurling her veil in the wind and swirling through the twilight sky. As the flare passed, it left behind a trail of vibrant light swirling rebelliously, creating the illusion of energy waves wrapping around Fitran's body.
The comet struck the ground, transforming the terrain into a cratered landscape, releasing clouds of dust and darkness. The explosion shook the surroundings, causing the earth to tremble as if singing in rage. A small storm followed, swirling with shining debris—fibers from another dimension, descending to Earth, adorning the battle with fragments of mesmerizing light.
Meanwhile, the flare split the air into spiral beams of glowing fire. It was as if the sky had been rent asunder, leaving behind a winding trail of luminous light that spun gracefully, dancing in slow motion. As the brightness faded, it left a dim glow in the corners of one's vision, like a memory that was reluctant to be forgotten. As Fitran battled against the onslaught of magic, he felt each attack resonate with his very soul, striking not only his body but also everything he had fought for.
The sound of the battle reverberated through the air, shattering the stillness of the night. Each strike not only inflicted physical destruction but also shook the very core of reality itself. Smoke and shimmering particles danced in the air, defying the pull of gravity, while beams of light from the magic illuminated the darkness with a transcendental aura. The sigh of the passing wind carried the burnt aroma of the unleashed attacks and their staggering impact. It was as if the night itself was torn apart, comet streaks sweeping across the sky as magical forces surged with captivating grace, creating a canvas of light that seemed to narrate the tragedy unfolding between them.
With a voice full of resolve, Fitran shouted, "Umbra! Today we will not retreat! Every comet you throw will be met with my courage!" A newfound spirit surged within his heart, guiding him to keep fighting despite the lurking dangers at every corner. His steps trembled in sync with the magical thunder penetrating the air, as if the earth shook beneath each of his strides. An aura of bravery enveloped his body, creating a thin, glowing mist that followed his path as he advanced, challenging the seemingly hostile fate. His spirit blazed like a star in the oppressive darkness, offering hope amid the sorrow overshadowing this battle.
Fitran jumped from the wall of shattered black and plunged Excalibur toward Umbra. The weapon sparkled like a falling star, leaving a trail of energy as if the sky were breaking the night. With every movement, the light radiating from the blade of Excalibur created the illusion of pillars of light piercing the sky, a symbol of hope amidst the dark storm.
Umbra lifted her hand and struck Fitran with a comet crashing from the side. Her movements danced among the shadows, conjuring a flow of magic that enveloped the surrounding space with a chilling aura. The comet barreled forward with a dizzying speed, sweeping away everything in its path like an unavoidable fate. When the collision occurred, the explosion tore through the sky, emitting waves of despair in the dim light that lingered.
As Excalibur touched Umbra's body, there was no blood—what emerged was black crystal dust, like fragments of names being rejected. The particles glittered in the light, resembling black threads, transforming the air into a dark tapestry reminiscent of tales of shattered promises. Each speck of dust seemed to whisper of every sorrow that had ever existed, creating a melancholic atmosphere in the engulfing darkness.
Umbra struck the ground, creating pillars of spiral flare that ensnared Fitran in a circle of heat. The swirling blue flames surrounded Fitran, shimmering with a spirit of anger and despair, crafting a haunting yet captivating visual symphony. The sharp hissing sound marked the effects of the magical force swirling about them, making this moment feel like a part of an incomprehensible yet perilous creation of nature.
Fitran: "You bring this world to life… only to have everything burned away again?"
Umbra: "You desire a world without memory. I merely hasten the consequences."
Amidst the swirling energy, Fitran felt a magical vibration touch his soul, as if every element around them cried out in pain. The power of magic enveloped them, creating a swirling, purple mist that danced like ghosts in the darkness. He sensed the thorns of injustice piercing the walls of his rationality, while the whispers of magic echoed in his ears, telling tales of destruction and unanswered hopes. With every breath, the spirit of this battle was reborn from the shadows, radiating a glimmer of hope even though it was buried under dust, like a flower striving to bloom among the ruins. "Every soul you destroy is a lost story," Fitran shouted, his determination growing stronger. "I will not let the fire you ignited burn the last shred of hope!" His voice echoed, draping the arena with an aura of courage that felt almost global. As the energy hissed around him, a new light emerged; born from the cries of clans fighting against injustice, like the demands for retribution from the deities. The mounting energy from his body melded with the shine of Excalibur, signaling the wave of resistance to come, akin to a storm gathering strength before lightning strikes. He was determined to reclaim every fragment of hope that had been lost, not just for himself, but for the entire dark world— a world yearning for light to shine once more.
Fitran threw Excalibur into the air, then leaped, catching it midair and swung it while spinning—cleaving through the entire column of flares. The sharp light emitted by the sword seemed to paint golden lines across the dark sky, spreading a magical shimmer that chased away the shadows of darkness. Each slash felt like a note in the symphony of power, reverberating in the silence of the night. He sensed the strength flowing from his sword, so legendary and eternal, radiating an aura that made the earth tremble beneath his feet.
Umbra summoned the largest comet core, hurling it downward. The core hurtled at a terrifying speed, slicing through the sky like a heavenly arrow, leaving a vibration of light in its wake before striking with a jolt that shook the soul. Each second seemed to stretch, as particles of stardust glimmered like celestial tears, while she felt an irresistible wave of energy pushing to escape from deep within her. It was a journey filled with purpose, aimed at dispelling the darkness.
Excalibur met the comet. In that moment, time seemed to freeze; the light exploded like a firework the size of the universe. Explosion!
The previously flat Umbra sky began to swirl.
The ground lifted.
Fragments of names long forgotten now flew as shards of magic. As if the universe were composed of star debris, those shards shimmered in the shadows, transforming into enticing little beings, as if they yearned to reclaim their lives. Within this light, secrets and memories intertwined, merging nostalgia with unquenched hope, creating a new illusion from buried sorrow and dreams.
In that magnificent explosion, Fitran felt a tremor in his heart. All disappointments and pain flowed through him simultaneously, forming a web of emotions that connected the past and present. "Remember all that was lost!" he shouted, his voice piercing through the silence. "Every cell severed from our strength must rise again!" With each word, every utterance reverberated like a mantra, resurrecting the dormant souls within them, awakening the power that lay asleep inside. Like a torrent of a river forcing its way through, his spirit surged, breaking through the tyranny that suffocated the light. With every heartbeat, he vowed to be the guardian of hope, braving the darkness for a brighter future for all.
Fitran's eyes sparkled with the light of awakening. His body, worn by wounds and weariness, now warmed, fueled by the hope that had just been born. With every surge of his energy, fragments of magic sparkled, creating a beautiful flow of light, as if reminding the world of the dormant potential still waiting to be fought for. As he directed his sword toward the sky, a spiral of purple light emerged, alluring in its charm, radiating a glow that enveloped the surrounding space, challenging the darkness to retreat. This power was not merely an attack; it was an invitation, a movement to awaken hope in the hearts of every being that witnessed.
Faces from the past emerged from the cauldron,
Names that had never been spoken appeared on the stone,
And amidst it all, two figures stood, full of wounds yet unafraid.
With every heartbeat, the vibration of magic shattered the silence. A storm of energy gathered around them, the magical field increasing the air temperature, as if the sky held its breath before unleashing the tempest. Soft light sparkled between them, like thousands of tiny stars dancing to the rhythm of their quickening heartbeats. Pillars of blue and purple energy surged through the air, creating an abstract image that seemed to tell the story of a struggle that had yet to be extinguished.
Surrounded by shadows, Fitran felt a surge of power within him; whispering voices from the past urged him to surrender, yet he stood firm. "We can't back down now, Elyra!" he shouted, his voice slicing through the silence of the night, like a drum heralding their relentless struggle. Behind him, dark shadows hissed, seemingly creeping in to silence his resolve, but the light emanating from Fitran's hands glowed brighter, offering hope that victory was still within reach.
Umbra cracked.
Yet both… still endure.
Elyra—still asleep in the real world—moved her tiny fingers. Within her dreams, she could feel the waves of energy flowing from Fitran's body; ancient inscriptions swirled around her, guiding their souls toward the zenith of battle. In such a state, pretending to soar toward freedom, she sensed the ebb and flow of power pulsating in rhythm, as if dancing to a silent song visible only to them. "Don't worry, I will help you!" her voice, gentle yet firm, reignited Fitran's spirit. Their story unfolded in flickering lights, a vivid dream imagery that brought hope amid the surrounding darkness.
From her body, a small spiral emerged…
not to touch either of them.
But as a sign that the battle is not over.
At the edge of the Umbra world, The Sixth Spiral… began to pulse.