As their arms shattered and cracked, each bellowed at the top of their lungs, the agony ripping through them, yet neither retreated. Their yells turned into primal roars, a fierce symphony of defiance. They could feel death's whisper circling closer, a reminder of how easily their own powers could turn against them, but the drive to dominate, to conquer, burned hotter still. Each inch they pushed forward came at the cost of torn muscle, fractured bone, and searing pain, yet they persisted, caught in the relentless press of survival, power, and desperation.
Athena watched from within the heart of Cyrus's throne world, a small, secure oasis amidst the writhing chaos of clashing realms. Her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, her eyes struggling to focus on the monumental battle unfolding before her. Each second felt like an eternity, and her mind teetered on the edge of consciousness, barely holding on as the raw power of their throne worlds clashed like divine storms.
