u/Conscious-Snow-4556

^(Previously on Dexter…)

Nosu: “Fine.”

A low growl rolls up from his chest as both massive hands twist back into bio gatling guns. The mechanisms begin to whirr, the sound rising slowly at first, then deeper, hungrier, more alive.

Nosu: “Hide behind each other, then. It will only make this part easier.”

Hálogi’s molten eyes flare, his mouth opens, and a dense cloud of black smoke pours out in a sudden burst, rolling outward across the battlefield like a living curtain. In an instant, it swallows the space between them, obscuring Nosu’s line of sight and hiding the trio from view.

Nosu lets out a sharp grunt of irritation and both bio gatling guns on his massive arms begin to spin faster, their mechanisms whining louder as they charge. He doesn’t hesitate, he opens fire and a storm of missiles tears through the smoke, one after another after another, hurling ash and heat into the air, but they hit nothing, and for a split second, there is only the sound of explosions muffled inside the smoke.

Then, in a heartbeat, four figures burst out of the smoke in different directions.

On the left, Dr. Lobestomy surges forward, his mechanical legs clanking and whirring as they push beyond their normal limits, each step biting hard into the scorched ground. Perched on top of his head, Greezmob braces himself, gripping his oversized laser rifle, already aiming. Dr. Lobestomy’s cannon arm rises to take aim as well. 

On the right, Hálogi cuts across the battlefield in a low, aggressive glide, molten fire blasting from beneath his feet as he skims over the broken terrain, carving a path through the scorched earth. His mantle of flame trails behind him, flickering violently with the speed. Just behind him, Starzeek pushes forward at full pace, electricity crackling faintly along his fur as he struggles to keep up, but never falling far behind.

Nosu’s eyes widen for the briefest moment at the split approach, then his posture shifts instantly. Both gatling guns swing outward, one tracking left, the other right, and the missiles keep screaming through the air as they fly in rapid fire, filling the air with shrieking impacts and detonations, each shot missing by inches as Hálogi and the trio close in from two angles.

But Nosu’s attention is split now, and it’s showing. Explosions tear into the ground around the advancing pairs, close enough to shake them, close enough to scorch, but not enough to stop them. The missiles missing only by inches, they’re already too close for his taste.

On the left, advantage is taken, Greezmob tightens his grip and pulls the trigger and a concentrated blast of energy rips forward that almost pushes him off Dr. Lobestomy’s head. At the same time, Dr. Lobestomy fires as well, his cannon arm discharging a surge that cuts through the air with a sharp crack. Both shots strike Nosu’s face, melting his eyes right off, blinding him on the spot. His head jerks to the side, his aim breaking for just long enough to disrupt the barrage and a roar of pain rips out of him as his gatling guns transform back into hands.

Blinded by the blast to his face, Nosu reels backward with a furious snarl. The smoke, the ash, the suffocating sulfur, the sudden loss of sight, all of it comes together in a single brutal instant, giving Hálogi and Starzeek the opening they've been waiting for.

Hálogi closes the distance first in a streak of fire. He doesn’t hesitate, his first strike is a left hook that slams into Nosu’s jaw and forces the massive head to twist sideways with a crack of shifting bone, not to break it, but to stagger him, to force him off-balance. And with Nosu staggered, Hálogi’s right hand shifts, molten plasma stretching and sharpening along his arm into a searing blade, and in the same motion, he cuts across the exposed gaps between Nosu’s armored shell, carving into flesh that had already healed once. 

Starzeek moves right behind the opening Hálogi created, his fist slamming into Nosu’s side, electricity bursting on contact, not with the same force as Hálogi, but it’s enough to make Nosu’s massive body tremble differently with a sharper grunt as the current surges through him.

Hálogi strikes again, this time with a propulsed flaming punch to the torso, making his shell crack a bit more just as Starzeek follows with another electrified blow to the ribs. Then the blade returns, carving across another exposed seam, molten light searing into flesh before it can close.

They move without speaking, without too much planning, falling into a rhythm that presses in from both sides, each strike feeding into the next. Nosu is forced back a step, then another, massive feet grinding against the scorched ground as he tries to stabilize against the relentless pressure.

But in his blindness, Nosu’s anguish boils more. His maced tail strikes the ground hard as he attempts to retaliate, his arm lashes out in a wide arc, cutting through the space where Hálogi stood a fraction too late, the force of it tearing through the air with enough strength to shatter stone. Hálogi leans back just enough to avoid it before coming back with another slicing strike across Nosu’s side. Nosu growls, his other arm coming up in a blind attempt to grab, to crush, to create any sort of space for him to breathe, but Starzeek ducks under it and drives another charged punch into his abdomen.

This time, Nosu howls in pain as Starzeek’s electricity lingers for a split second longer, crawling beneath the surface, and it shows. It hurts Nosu, a lot. 

The rhythm tightens further, suffocating, it becomes too much. Every time Nosu tries to push them back, another strike interrupts him. Every time he tries to plant his feet, another blow forces him off balance. He absorbs it with sheer durability, with rage, with brute endurance, but the pressure doesn't let up. It builds, constantly, it traps him, makes him helpless, and for a fleeting stretch of seconds, the giant is being overwhelmed.

From the left, the others finally close in. Greezmob drops from Dr. Lobestomy’s head, landing on the ground with his laser rifle steady in his grip as he approaches slowly. Lobestomy follows, silent, his mechanical legs driving him forward with uneven, aggressive force. There is something off in the way he moves now, less calculated, more reckless, determined to end it. His eyes flicker erratically as his cannon arm already begins to hum as energy gathers at its core.

Hálogi and Starzeek keep Nosu locked in place, their strikes continuing in rapid succession, holding him in that narrow window where he cannot fully retaliate.

And then… Lobestomy fires. A concentrated beam erupts from his cannon arm, cutting through the battlefield with a violent uncontrolled surge of energy far too wide.

Hálogi hears it first, his head snaps toward the incoming blast, molten eyes widening just enough to register the danger, and he moves on instinct.

Hálogi: “Move!”

He pushes Starzeek by the shoulder and both of them break away in opposite directions in the same instant, the rhythm gets shattered, the pressure broken.

Starzeek: “Shit!”

The energy beam slams into Nosu. The impact is explosive, swallowing his upper body in a blinding flash as the energy detonates across him, tearing through what had already been damaged.

And that is when it happens, Nosu’s vision reforms, his red eyes snap open through the ruin, blood dripping from the corners as flesh finishes knitting itself back together, and what returns with his sight is pure rage. His teeth grind together so hard they almost crack, his entire frame tensing as a roar tears itself from the depths of his chest, raw and violent and filled with something unhinged.

Nosu: “ENOUGH! I’M GONNA PUT YOU FREAKS IN YOUR PLACE!”

Nosu moves before the echo of his voice fades between the volcanic mountains. His left arm swings out, fast and brutal, catching Starzeek mid movement and launching him across the battlefield like a ragdoll. His body skips across the ground before hurtling towards a river of molten lava, limp and unresponsive.

Hálogi: “Starzeek!”

Hálogi reacts instantly and rushes to aid, his right arm melting back into a hand as he extends it forward making the ground rise beneath Starzeek in a surge of jagged stone, forming into a massive hand that catches him just before he can fall into the lava, cradling him and carrying him away from the edge.

But that moment costs him. Nosu’s right hand curls into a fist and he slams it into the ground, the impact sends a shockwave ripping outward, cracking the scorched earth open as it races across the battlefield. It hits Dr. Lobestomy head on before he has time to react, the force lifting him off the ground and throwing him back violently, his body going limp as he crashes into the broken terrain.

And then there is Greezmob, watching it all unfold in front of him, Starzeek’s body thrown aside like it weighed nothing, Dr. Lobestomy struck down by the shockwave, and Hálogi forced into motion before he can even recover, moving Starzeek away from the edge of the lava just as Nosu surges in to deny it.

The ground shudders again under the sheer force of Nosu’s advance, a massive swing cutting through the space where Hálogi had stood a heartbeat before, forcing him to twist mid motion, arm still outstretched to guide Starzeek onto solid ground while the rest of his body turns back toward the threat. There is no clean transition, no moment to reset, only a strained adjustment as he splits himself between ensuring Starzeek is clear of the molten river and keeping Nosu from crashing down on them both.

Greezmob’s chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as panic takes hold, his breathing turning sharp and uneven. His bottom lip trembles, his hands clutching the laser rifle far too tightly as the ringing in his ears drowns out everything else. Despair settles in fast, heavy and suffocating, and before a single clear thought can form, his legs start moving on their own.

Nosu catches the movement from the corner of his eye. His head snaps toward it, his red eyes wide, almost bulging out as something wild flickers behind them. His right hand twists and reshapes into a bio gatling gun once more, and without a moment of hesitation, the barrels spin to life, unleashing a torrent of missiles toward Greezmob. Each one screams through the air with murderous intent, detonating just behind him in violent bursts that send heat and shockwaves snapping at his heels.

But that isn’t enough to make Greezmob stop running, using his small size as an advantage to dodge the missiles as he shoots back in retaliation against Nosu with his laser rifle, some shots hitting, some missing, but he continues marching forward grinding his teeth.

Once he closes the distance between them, Nosu’s tail lashes out, the heavy mace end cutting through the air in a sweep meant to crush Greezmob, but he discards his laser without a second thought and leaps, claws digging into Nosu’s body as he latches on and begins to climb. His movements are desperate, frantic, driven more by emotion than technique as he scrambles upward, his vision blurred with tears, his breath uneven and sharp.

Nosu snarls and begins to turn, his massive body twisting as he tries to shake him loose, every movement violent enough to throw off anything smaller, but Greezmob refuses to let go until he manages to reach the face and starts to rake his claws across Nosu’s face in a frenzy, striking again and again without rhythm or restraint.

Greezmob: “I HATE YOU!”

He shouts glaring at Nosu between tears and sobs while his claws lash across Nosu’s features, striking, tearing, hitting whatever he can reach.

Greezmob: “I HATE YOU FOR LEAVING US!”

Nosu snarls in response, the sound deep and feral, his hand shifting back from its weaponized form as he reaches blindly, swiping at the smaller figure clinging to him until his grip finally closes around Greezmob’s body.

Nosu: “Argh! Get OFF ME!”

He tears him free and throws him down into the ground with brutal force, the impact sending a sharp crack through the air as Greezmob’s body slams against the scorched terrain. The blow knocks the air out of his lungs instantly, a broken gasp escaping his throat as blood sprays from his mouth, his small frame collapsing in on itself. He barely moves after that, his tail twitching weakly against the ground, his breaths shallow, uneven, caught somewhere between pain and shock.

Nosu looks down at him. There is no hesitation in his expression now, only a cold, decisive intent as his right hand curls into a fist and begins to rise. The motion is slow, deliberate, almost patient, as if savoring what comes next, the final strike already decided, and all Greezmob can do is close his eyes and brace for impact as Nosu drives his fist down on him.

...

For a brief, suspended instant, everything seems to go quiet. The impact never comes.

Instead, heat washes over him, a sudden, suffocating warmth that cuts through the fear. Greezmob’s eyes flutter open, and the first thing he sees is a molten glow spilling across his vision, flickering, unsteady, but there.

It’s Hálogi, he forced himself between them at the last possible moment, both hands locked around Nosu’s descending fist, his entire damaged body braced under the weight of it. The force of the collision drives through him immediately, his stance breaking as he is pushed down to one knee, the ground beneath him splintering outward in jagged cracks.

His flames surge violently, flaring brighter and wilder than before, not controlled, but in defiance, as every part of him strains against the overwhelming strength bearing down on him. His arms tremble under the pressure, his grip tightening even as it threatens to give, yet he does not let it fall, not an inch more, holding the blow there through sheer will alone.

And that is when Nosu’s expression shifts. The rage doesn’t fade, but it twists, curling into something darker as a slow, sickening grin spreads across his muzzle. He takes in the sight before him, the fallen friends scattered across the battlefield, the Overlord kneeling under his strength, the desperation hanging thick in the air, and an idea forms, something sharp and cruel.

Suddenly, his fist changes and he opens his palm, catching Hálogi off-guard as his hand closes around Hálogi’s torso and left arm, locking him in place, pinning him where he stands, and before Hálogi can react, before he can even pull away, Nosu’s other hand snaps forward and seizes his right arm.

There is a brief moment of tension, a brief moment where realization happens.

In one sharp, merciless motion, Nosu tears Hálogi’s arm apart. The sound of tearing rock and molten matter splitting under force cuts through the battlefield, a sickening rupture that no amount of heat or chaos can drown out. It is followed immediately by Hálogi’s roar.

A raw, unfiltered cry of agony that rips across the battlefield, powerful enough to make even Billy’s spybots recoil behind their cover, the sheer force of it carving through the noise of fire and destruction for one terrible, unforgettable instant.

Then Nosu casts him aside without care, discarding him like a broken toy, and Hálogi's body goes limp against the ground. But Nosu's attention already shifts to what remains in his hand.

Hálogi’s severed arm, still glowing, still dripping magma into his palm. He lifts it slowly, almost curiously, to look at it before bringing it to his mouth and biting down, devouring it in a single motion. The act is sickening, his jaw working as he swallows, savoring it. His tongue sliding across his teeth as the grin returns, wider, more unhinged than before, his red eyes gleaming with something feral and deeply disturbing.

Nosu: “Hm, yummers.~”

To be continued...

After the explosion, the battlefield is swallowed by smoke and ash and it falls into a brief, uneasy silence, broken only by the distant and low rumble of lava, the crackle of Hálogi’s flames and the collapsing of broken stone.

Slowly, the smoke screen begins to thin as it drifts upward. The haze clears and the remains of a jagged rock wall come into view, fractured and riddled with holes where some of the missiles tore through. A small bioelectric field hums around Starzeek, Dr. Lobestomy, and Greezmob, its surface wavering under the strain. Starzeek’s fur is standing on end from the current surging through him, and Dr. Lobestomy’s metallic skull plates are lifted open, exposing the massive brain beneath as arcs of electricity snap and crackle from him into the field. 

Greezmob sits on the ground between them, wide-eyed and frozen, his breath uneven as if he had just seen his life flash before his own eyes. Like something had... shattered.

Not far from them, Hálogi is still on his knee, his flames flickering unsteadily for a brief moment of relief. But only for a moment. His expression hardens again as he forces himself upright, pain still lingering in every movement, but he pushes through it and with a sharp burst from the flames beneath his feet, he propulses himself forward. He does not land cleanly, his momentum carrying him into a rough slide across the broken ground before he catches himself just in front of the trio behind the shattered wall.

Starzeek and Dr. Lobestomy let the field die down the moment Hálogi arrives. For a second, the Overlord says nothing. He stands there, towering over all three of them, his mantle of fire rising around him like a warning. His expression is stern, but it carries something deeper beneath it.

Hálogi: “This is the reason why I came alone! What were you thinking? Do you seek death?!”

Greezmob flinches slightly at the outburst, still trying to pull himself together. Dr. Lobestomy begins to speak, lifting a pincer as if to argue their case.

Dr. Lobestomy: “We are not entirely defenseless, we are capable of-”

Hálogi cuts him off immediately, his flames flaring sharply as his voice drops into something firmer, heavier.

Hálogi: “Then you should be capable of knowing that emotions have no place on the battlefield. They cloud your judgment. They pull you away from the objective.”

The words come out hard, and for a brief moment they sound almost hypocritical, especially coming from him, and he knows it. But then Hálogi exhales, just once, and when he speaks again, his tone has shifted, lower and steadier.

Hálogi: “You can't touch the heart of someone who has already made up their mind about you.”

Greezmob, already on his feet, looks away at that. Dr. Lobestomy still looks irritated at being interrupted, but he says nothing. For a moment, the three of them stand there in silence.

Then Starzeek steps forward. His jaw tightens. His eyes stay locked on Hálogi, but there is no defiance in them, only strain, guilt, and determination.

Starzeek: “Yeah, we... we know that. Deep down, we always knew it. But we still... hoped-"

He hesitates, then presses on, his voice harder now.

Starzeek: “That’s why we’re here. To make things right. To fix our mistake.”

The other two look toward Hálogi as well. There is conflict in all of them, but underneath it, there is conviction. And Hálogi sees it. His flames flicker once, not in anger this time, but in something closer to reluctant respect. He then nods his head slowly.

Hálogi: “Okay…”

Hálogi turns away from them, facing forward again. With a subtle motion of his hand, the broken rock wall collapses back into the ground, clearing the space between them and the battlefield ahead. He steps forward, placing himself firmly between Nosu and the trio. His mantle of flame rises with him, casting a steady, imposing glow.

Hálogi: “Then do as I say.”

Behind him, the three share a glance and move without hesitation.

Starzeek straightens his jacket and clenches his fists, faint currents already beginning to dance along his arms. Dr. Lobestomy clicks his left pincer while the mechanical cannon of his right arm hums to life. Greezmob wipes his eyes quickly, sniffs once, and pulls a cube-like device from his satchel. With the press of a button, it unfolds and shifts into a laser rifle nearly as large as he is, which he grips tightly.

Across the scorched battlefield, Nosu stands still for a moment, his massive frame rising and falling with heavy breaths. Smoke drifts past him in slow currents, briefly veiling his form before thinning again.

When the ruined wall drops back down to the ground, his red eyes snap toward the formation now standing against him. His muzzle twitches once, and then a sharp yellow grin spreads slowly across his face. He lets out a mocking whistle and begins clapping, slow and deliberate.

Nosu: “Pheeeew... now that was something... Oh, the emotional drama, heartbreaking.”

He shakes his head and huffs through his nostrils, his tail dragging through the ash behind him once before going still.

Nosu: “Heh.”

Then his head tilts slightly, red eyes narrowing as they move from one figure to the next.

Nosu: “So, this is how it is now?”

His voice is calm, but only barely. There is a hard edge beneath it, a pressure building under the surface that he is no longer bothering to hide.

Nosu: “You couldn’t beat me on your own, could you Hálogi? So now you all team up. Doesn’t matter. You’re still weak against me.”

The words are spit out like poison, meant to provoke a reaction. But Hálogi does not give him one. His flames remain controlled, no longer blue, no longer wild. That only sharpens Nosu’s irritation.

His gaze shifts again, taking in the way Hálogi stands in front of the trio, the way the others hold their ground behind him. This is no longer a scattered group. It's a formation. A shield, a challenge. And Nosu can feel the change, and he hates it. His grin fades and what remains is colder, sharper, less amused.

His eyes flick to Hálogi’s flames, then to the trio’s weapons, then back to the Overlord’s face.

Nosu: “Tell me something, Hálogi. Do you really think you can protect these shitheads? From me?”

He lets the question hang for a second before pressing in harder.

Nosu: “Even after you failed to protect your own little citizens? Your… friends?”

That earns him exactly what he wanted, a small flicker from Hálogi’s flames, irritated and restrained, but still there. Nosu notices it at once and his grin returns for half a heartbeat.

Nosu: “Alright.”

A low growl rolls up from his chest as both massive hands twist back into bio gatling guns. It begins to whirr, the sound rising slowly at first, then deeper, hungrier, more alive.

Nosu: “Go on, hind behind your new friends, your Highness. It'll only make this easier for me... and more painful to you...”

To be continued…

⚠️ Just a little warning, if you haven't already checked the previous parts for additional context, please do so by clicking here! ⚠️

As the ship tears through the soot filled sky and the dark volcanic clouds split apart above Ignis, and on the side door first, Starzeek stands there, one hand braced against the frame for balance as the ship cuts through the violent wind. His yellow fur is tugged and whipped by the furnace hot currents rising from the planet below, his gaze locked downward on the battlefield.

And then he calls out the name that hangs between them like a wound.

Starzeek: “Nosu!”

The ship lowers itself toward the ruined ground below, descending over a battlefield of cracked earth, jagged stone, deep craters, open wounds in the land, and rivers of molten lava cutting through the destruction. Ignis looks like it has been torn apart by something far larger than a simple duel.

The ship lands with a heavy thud amid the ash and broken rock.

Starzeek is the first one out, stepping onto the scorched ground with his expression already tight with concern. Dr. Lobestomy follows shortly after, his mechanical legs clicking against the ruined terrain, while Greezmob finishes setting the ship down and exits the cockpit to join them.

The moment he steps outside, the smell hits him. Sulfur. Smoke. Hot stone. Burned metal. It is thick enough to make him wrinkle his nose and wave a hand in front of his face.

Greezmob: “Phew, this place stinks worse than back on Aul-Turrhen.”

Dr. Lobestomy looks around slowly, taking in the devastation with a grim, assessing stare.

Dr. Lobestomy: “Remarkable. I knew this world was damaged, but I did not expect it to be this extensively compromised.”

But Starzeek is not looking at the terrain. He is looking at Nosu. His face is caught between anger and something far more painful, something older. Concern. Frustration. The kind of worry that comes from seeing someone you know has already gone too far.

Starzeek: “Nosu, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Nosu’s gaze shifts from the battered Hálogi to the trio standing before him. For a moment, his expression stills. Then his scaly muzzle curls slowly into a sly smile, sharp with mockery.

Nosu: “Well, look who decided to show up. Missed me much, old friends?”

A low chuckle rolls out of him, bitter and amused all at once.

Greezmob looks back at Nosu in indignation, barely even noticing the stench around him anymore, unable to hold his tongue any longer.

Greezmob: “Don’t you ‘old friends’ us, you maniac sonovabitch! You destroyed our house, asshole!”

Dr. Lobestomy pipes in next, analytical as always, but with irritation sharpening every word.

Dr. Lobestomy: “And let us not forget the thousands upon thousands of lives you have taken, nor the sheer destruction you have caused everywhere else.”

Starzeek finally stops his march, and the other two come to a halt beside him, a few good meters away from Nosu and Hálogi. Starzeek clenches his fists, faint electricity crackling from the bolts on his wrists as he takes in the state Nosu is in. His Ultimate Vaxasaurian form is grotesque, and even from here it looks painful just to breathe. His expression tightens before he opens his arms and gestures toward Nosu.

Starzeek: “And look at what you have done to yourself, man… Fuck, I should have known something was wrong when you showed up back at the house after disappearing for so long…”

He drags a hand down his face, trying to keep himself steady, while Greezmob jumps onto Dr. Lobestomy’s head to appear bigger, pointing a finger straight at Nosu and shouting all over again.

Greezmob: “You look like a monster! No, you became a monster! You big old- You-”

His voice cracks as he searches for words. The fury does not vanish, but it falters, and his posture collapses with it. His head drops, and his hand falls to his side, gripping the strap of his satchel tightly as he looks away from Nosu.

Greezmob: “Nosu...”

Dr. Lobestomy keeps his focus on Nosu as well, the plates of his skull shifting slightly with a sharp mechanical snap.

Dr. Lobestomy: “Your greed for power has reached unacceptable limits. You have gone too far. Out of line.”

Hálogi remains where he is on the battlefield, one hand pressed against his chest as he bears through the pain and slowly gathers himself again.

Hálogi: “You're... fools, all of you. Coming here like this. Do you think he will listen to-”

But his words are cut off when Starzeek raises a hand toward the Overlord in a bold request for silence.

Starzeek: “Please. Let us talk.”

The flames on Hálogi’s head and shoulders flicker, then begin to settle. As he listens to the three of them, his anger and rage give way to something heavier, something bitter and remorseful, and the bright blue of his fire slowly starts to dim back into its usual blood-orange.

Starzeek keeps his eyes locked on Nosu as he takes a deep breath before continuing.

Starzeek: “This is my fault. I should’ve been able to stop you back then. I should’ve seen what was going on. I feel like I failed you. I'm sorry.”

Dr. Lobestomy turns his attention back to Nosu, the plates of his skull shifting again as he gestures vaguely with both pincer and cannon, trying to make sense of things.

Dr. Lobestomy: “I can comprehend certain things, Nosu, the virus, or the Albedo Empire, or your long pursuit of absolute power. However, this current situation? Everything you have done since your escape from the Red Wind prison cannot be solely for the sake of power…this… this is not strategy. This is not ambition.

A pause.

Dr. Lobestomy: “This is... obsession. You are behaving like a spoiled child who was denied his favorite toy.”

Greezmob looks back up, his voice trembling now.

Greezmob: “Yeah! What happened, dude? This isn’t you! We were your friends… All that time… all the time we spent together… didn’t we mean anything to you?”

He almost cannot hold back tears now. His eyes search Nosu’s face from a distance, as if he is still looking for an answer he already knows he will not like, yet trying to cling to any lingering hope left.

But Nosu, now with his wounds fully regenerated and his armored shell restored to perfect condition, goes quiet for a single second. His smirk fades. He glances to the side, lifts one hand and stares down at it for a brief, silent heartbeat.

Then his mace tail strikes the ground once, and a low huff leaves his nostrils.

Nosu: “Hmpf... No. Like I said... We were never friends.”

He says it in a near playful voice, before slowly bringing his piercing red eyes back to the group in the distance. But before anyone can react, he shifts his massive hand towards them and twists it into a bio gatling gun. A disturbing, bloodthirsty grin spreads across his distorted snout.

Hálogi’s molten eyes widen as he catches the shift at once, the murderous intent in Nosu becoming unmistakable. For the first time in the entire duel, his shout is not born from anger, but from concern.

Hálogi: “NO!”

But the gatling gun begins to whirr to life despite his warning, and the missiles launch in rapid succession. Hálogi tries to dash forward, to propulse himself toward them, but a sudden spike of pain tears through his battered body. His flames flicker wildly, magma spills from his mouth in a wet cough, and the force of it brings him down to one knee as he watches the barrage closing in on the group.

Still clutching his chest, Hálogi lifts his other hand and tries to bring the ground up beneath them, trying anything, anything at all to shield them at the last possible moment.

Greezmob’s ears twitch as the sound hits him first. Eyes widening as he sees the incoming fire.

Greezmob: “Wait-”

For a split second, the missiles hang in the air like burning stars. Then they detonate. A massive blast erupts across the battlefield, throwing up a towering cloud of ash and smoke that swallows everything in sight.

To be continued…

Nosu keeps Hálogi pinned beneath his massive hand, the pressure of his grip grinding down on him with monstrous force. Hálogi snarls and strains, both hands wrapped around Nosu’s fingers as he tries to force them apart, but the Ultimate Vaxasaurian’s strength holds him in place like infinitum.

His flames flare brighter in the struggle. Blue fire licks violently across his shoulders and crown, growing harsher, hotter, more erratic with every failed attempt to break free. Rage twists in his chest, raw and unfiltered, rage at Nosu for the destruction he had caused, rage at being trapped beneath him like this, rage at the simple fact that, for once, brute force was not enough.

He had fought Vaxasaurians before, he had crushed base ones, torn through them, overpowered them. Yet this was different. This was that impossible one percent. That unnatural apex forced into existence through the Ultimatrix, a grotesque perfection that made no sense and offered no mercy.

And because of that, Hálogi’s mind begins to spiral. The thought of the Red Wind colony burns behind his eyes. The memory of the lives lost there, the ashes, the ruin, the insult of Nosu still walking free after all of it. His flames swell again, more violent now, more unstable, and in that blind fury he nearly forgets the ground itself is still under his command.

Nosu’s mouth curls into a grin as he feels the shift. He leans closer, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction.

Nosu: “Look at you now. All that fire, all that fury, now beneath me.” His red eyes narrow with cruel amusement. “Who is the pathetic parasite now, hm? Your highness.”

Hálogi’s gaze sharpens for a fraction of a second, the rage in him snapping into something colder, something focused. He stops fighting Nosu’s hand directly and instead plants both palms against the cracked ground beneath them.

With a brutal surge of terrakinesis, jagged rock spikes erupt upward in a violent burst, not clean, not elegant, but savage and precise enough. Several spear through the exposed gaps between Nosu’s shell and armor, ripping into the flesh beneath.

Nosu roars. The sound is deep, furious, and full of pain. His grip tightens reflexively, the pressure on Hálogi spiking for a heartbeat as he tries to crush him outright, but the pain forces his arm to tremble. A second later his hand loosens just enough.

That is all Hálogi needs. With a raw shout, he drives his own strength into the break in Nosu’s grip and tears himself free, throwing himself hard to the side and dragging distance between them in a spray of ash and shattered stone.

Nosu stumbles back a step, snarling. He looks down at the spikes embedded in his flesh, then snaps both massive hands around them and yanks them free with a vicious rip. The wounds begin to close almost at once, but not fast enough to hide the damage. His breathing is heavier now, slower, the pain from the transformation and the fresh injuries making even his monstrous form seem strained.

For the first time, both of them stand wounded. Both of them stand heavy with fatigue. Both of them stare across the scorched ground, breathing hard beneath a sky of smoke and blackened clouds.

Silence falls upon the scorched lands of Ignis, aside from the crackles of lava and fire and the breathings of those two.

Then a boom cracks overhead. The sound cuts through the battlefield like thunder from another world. Hálogi and Nosu both look up. Above them, the soot filled sky parts in a sudden rush, volcanic clouds torn open as if something massive has forced its way through.

Through the drifting haze, a ship begins to descend toward Ignis.

To be continued…