Two gods, locked in a desperate struggle for survival. One, a man wearing golden armor, with white wings spread out from his back. The other, a seductive woman, wearing an extraordinarily small bikini, with two red horns crowning her forehead. Yet, these two didn't exchange blows with fist or blade, but rather countless projections of attacks and defenses, flickering by faster than a mortal can comprehend. Hundreds of different sword strokes, spear thrusts, hammer swings, all coming from an infinite number of angles and sides. Yet, neither of the two moved, only locking eyes as the projections flashed past faster and faster as moments passed.
Suddenly, the succubus disappeared from her position, leaving only a brief rift in the fabric of space. Fractions of a millisecond later, the celestial flashed into the rift left behind.
"Michael, I wouldn't have thought you enjoyed it when I play hard to get," said the succubus, as she lounged out upon the surface of a star.
"Enough with the games Lilith, you know you cannot match my strength," the archangel stated, jaw clenched at how a being so lackadaisical could command so much power.
"Catch me if you can," whispered Lilith, as she once again rifted away.
Despite her outward casual attitude, she was quite literally fleeing for her life, rifting away not to escape chase, but to buy enough time to think of a way to survive this battle.
'How could he have grown so much more powerful in such a short time?' Her mind raced, thinking of hundreds of possibilities every millisecond, and rejecting just as many. Countless weapons, crystals, elementals flames, armors, and various other methods to gain strength flashed past yet all had one reason they were not Michael's source of growth. He had, quite simply, become faster. When they battled using projections of possibilities, Michael was noticeably faster at conjuring defense and sending out attacks. Yet, this was impossible, as gods have a fixed stat cap in every category, depending on their class advancements.
Lilith's class, Oathbreaker, and her subsequent subclassing all the way to tier six focused on [Agility] and [Spirit], whereas Michael's centered around a spread of [Strength], [Vitality], and [Spirit]. Therefore Lilith's stats must be higher, according to the stat restrictions of their dimension.
'Unless...' The succubus finally alighted upon the answer, knowing it was the only option, yet shocked by it nonetheless.
This answer was nothing other than Dios Armament No. 1, The Godhand. A legendary weapon among legendary weapons, so powerful it was forged using the lives of hundreds of gods, all as powerful or even more powerful than Lilith or Michael. Known as the Godslayers, the nine Dios Armaments were created by the Ancients, a massive precursor civilization, with thousands of Gods at the peak of rank 6. In their struggle to ascend beyond the limits of this universe, they created the Dios Armaments, using the lives of their comrades. Only the nine most powerful of the civilization survived, so crazed were they by the lure of ascension. By the lure of the Godslayers.
Therefore, Lilith's shock was apparent as she realized why her Armament had not shredded through Michael's defenses. He wielded a copy of the Godblade, yet such power was only a replica, just able to contend with Lilith's genuine Armament due to their ranks. Her attacks still should have put him on the back foot, yet instead, she was suppressed heavily. This means Michael possessed an armament in the top three, yet Lilith knew the whereabouts of No. 3 and No. 2, meaning Michael must possess the most powerful weapon in the universe. Dios Armament No. 1, The Godhand.The only reason she still stood was likely the lengthy acclimation period when the Armaments gain a new owner. As she raced through these thoughts, she never stopped rifting throughout the universe, yet, she knew now survival was out of reach.
"I suppose I can only give them all a chance," she whispered to herself, before once again rifting away.
Lilith arrived at her destination, readying herself for what she must do. She looked out at the universal epicenter and still felt awe at the raw power within, feeling its pull upon her.
"Pondering jumping in?" Asked Michael from behind, startling her out of her reverie.
"Odd as it may seem from our appearances, you're the bad guy," Lilith halted, turning to face the winged God.
"You're saying a civilization where any being can fight their way to the top without order is good?" He asked sardonically.
"My people aren't oppressed, every citizen has an opportunity to climb to the top using their strength or wits. Whereas your empire oppresses those not born of blood, instead forcing them into poverty while the nobility play politics endlessly."
"The weak deserve to stay weak and the strong deserve to become stronger!" He snarled out, fervent in his beliefs.
"You're absolutely mad Michael. You sacrifice hundreds just to keep your pretentious city afloat. "I'm also more powerful" he said, regaining his composure. "You can't win."
"I can't, but I can tie it."
Before he could react, Lilith detonated her soul, shaping the force to fling Michael towards the epicenter of the Universe. She saw her weapon fly into the storm and the celestial's scowl before her vision faded. The pull grew exponentially as Michael grew closer, while his face twisted into an ugly grimace. He reached out his hand wielding the Armament away from the epicenter, willing himself to fly away.
"That bitch, does she think I will die so easi-" His words were cut off as a massive maw reached out of the maelstrom of energy, engulfing his entire form, including Armaments No. 1 and No. 6. All that remained moments later was the chaotic storm of energies, silently whirling.