(Marvel, DC, images, manhuas, and every anime that will be mentioned and used in this story are not mine. They all belong to their respective owners. The main character "Karito/Adriel Josue Valdez" and the story are mine)
Days had passed, and the Guardians were ready to head out to war once again.
In her quarters, Artoria secured the last piece of her armor, fastening it over her dress. She reached for her invisible sword, Excalibur, and sheathed it at her side. With practiced efficiency, she tied her hair into a neat bun, then gave herself a firm nod as she looked in the mirror. She was ready.
Meanwhile, in another room, Peter frowned at his own reflection. The lingering headache was still there, dull but tolerable. He stretched out his hand, mentally commanding his suit to form around him. The liquid Narralith slithered toward his fingers, expanding as it coated his body in sleek blue and red, the neon-green spider emblem pulsing to life on his chest. He sighed, popping his neck side to side.
"Here we go again..." he mumbled.
Adriel and Ace were already prepared, waiting at the castle gates.
"Was it really necessary to wake up at five in the morning just to leave at seven?" Ace asked, looking far from amused.
Adriel's mask dematerialized, revealing his face as he side-eyed Ace. "No, but I didn't want to deal with a crowd. The only ones awake right now are the servants, and they don't bother us unless we call them."
Ace raised an eyebrow. "Crowd? What crowd?"
Adriel gave him a deadpan look. "You do realize we attract the narrative toward us, right?"
Ace blinked. "Uh-huh..." A pause. "...Oh." It took him a few seconds to process what Adriel meant. "So, you're saying characters will naturally show up near us, just because the plot wants it?"
"Pretty much," Adriel said tiredly. "Sometimes it happens just to add extra content, other times because it benefits us later. Either way, it's annoying."
Ace let out a dry chuckle. "So, that's just part of being a Guardian, huh?"
"Yeah," Adriel sighed. "The plot loves us, while the Darks control it."
Ace snickered. "Sounds like a toxic relationship. Like an overly clingy ex who refuses to let go."
"Not gonna lie," Adriel admitted, "you're not wrong."
Before they could continue, the sound of approaching footsteps caught their attention. Artoria and Peter finally arrived, looking far from pleased.
"Next time," Peter grumbled, slouching forward, "don't spam us about being deployed to war at one in the morning, right after we got a few days off."
"I'm gonna have to side with Peter on this one," Artoria sighed. "Luckily, I'm used to it."
Adriel shrugged, his half-hearted smirk showing he wasn't exactly sorry. "Yeah, that's my bad. My bad, gang."
Peter groaned. "You don't even sound sorry."
"Anyways," Adriel continued, ignoring him, "you two ready to be dropped off in Demacia?" As he spoke, he casually reached out, physically grasping the fabric of space itself.
"Straight to the one we know?" Ace asked, stretching his arms. "Alright, no complaints."
Peter rubbed his temples. "I really don't know how to feel about this. I feel like we're about to walk straight into some drama..."
Artoria exhaled through her nose. "Reality warpers are tricky, but they can be killed," she stated. "They tend to be arrogant—seeing battles as nothing more than a game."
Adriel rolled his shoulders, the energy around him beginning to shift. "Good. Because this game's about to end."
With a snap of his fingers, the space around them distorted, and the war began once more.
...
Hours Later...
The unforgiving desert winds howled as Adriel and Artoria stepped onto the scorched sands of Shurima. What was once a golden empire reborn under Azir's vision had now become a grotesque parody of itself, warped beyond recognition by the influence of the Darks. The Sun Disc loomed overhead, but its once-radiant glow was fractured, its light flickering as though struggling against the corruption that had infected the land. The towering structures that once symbolized the empire's grandeur now lay in ruin, half-swallowed by shifting dunes and blackened with decay.
Artoria tightened her grip on the hilt of Excalibur. The air itself was thick with malice, the very essence of the land steeped in a deep-rooted hatred. "Shurima is in a worse state than Ixtal ever was," she muttered.
Adriel's gaze swept across the land, analyzing every detail. "I don't even recognize this region anymore. It's been completely violated—down to its very foundation," he observed darkly. "If Hercules is the one responsible for this, then this version of him is sick to the core."
The sky was dark, yet it was not night. Swirling clouds of inky blackness churned overhead, blotting out the sun's warmth. The sand beneath their feet was no longer golden but marred with obsidian veins, as if oil had seeped into the land itself. Each step they took left faint, unnatural imprints, as if the desert itself rejected their presence.
The echoes of tortured wails drifted through the air, carried by the winds. The streets of Nashramae were filled with shadows—former citizens of Shurima, now twisted into husks of their former selves, their bodies marked by deep scars and grotesque mutations. Some bore the unmistakable marks of the Dark's influence—hollow, glowing eyes and contorted limbs that no longer moved with the grace of mortals. Others dragged themselves across the corrupted sands in chains, their minds shattered, murmuring prayers of worship to the very entity that had enslaved them.
Artoria exhaled sharply, disgust evident on her face. "This is far worse than I had anticipated."
Adriel crouched beside a cracked obelisk, running his fingers over the corrupted script carved into the stone. The ancient glyphs of Shurima had been overwritten by something else—blasphemous inscriptions in a dead language, twisted into a perversion of the empire's history. His gaze hardened as he recognized the markings. "This language... Greek. This is Hercules' doing," he muttered grimly. "He's reshaped the very narrative of Shurima itself. This place isn't just corrupted—it's been rewritten to serve as his proving ground."
Everywhere they looked, signs of his influence were undeniable. The grand markets of Marrowmark, once alive with traders and merchants from across Runeterra, had become grotesque arenas of slaughter. Instead of goods, the stands now displayed weapons, bloodied armor, and bound captives—prizes waiting to be thrown into the endless battles. The people of Shurima had been reduced to warriors and slaves, forced to fight in a twisted cycle of carnage that never ceased.
Beyond the ruined streets, the great Sandswimmers—once peaceful behemoths that carried scavengers across the dunes—were now armored in bone and steel, their backs transformed into mobile war camps. Their gentle nature had been erased, replaced by a berserker's rage, their eyes glowing with the same eerie light that haunted the land. Even the Skallashi, once revered beasts of burden, had been warped into monstrous creatures, their hides burned with pulsating runes of dark energy, marking them as war machines under Hercules' reign.
The Valley of Song, once known for the haunting, melodic winds that whispered through its hollow cliffs, had been transformed into an execution ground. Impaled bodies lined the valley, their faces frozen in silent screams, their agonized cries carried endlessly on the cursed wind. Those who refused to fight in Hercules' arenas were sent here—to serve as a warning to the weak.
And then there was the Sun Disc itself, or what remained of it. The colossal structure had been fractured into jagged, floating shards, held together by chains of raw energy that crackled with dark power. At its core sat a throne—not the seat of an emperor, but of a warlord. It was carved from obsidian and the bones of fallen warriors, a grotesque monument to conquest, domination, and unyielding strength.
Adriel clenched his fists. "This isn't Shurima anymore."
Artoria's voice was cold, her expression unreadable. "No. It's a kingdom of the damned."
A scream tore through the air.
Both Guardians turned their heads toward the source—a group of Shakkal raiders emerging from the ruined alleyways, their once-proud armor now stitched together with sinew and bone. Their polearms dripped with an oily black substance, and their movements were twisted, unnatural, like puppets held by unseen strings. They skittered toward their prey—a lone scavenger, his body frail, his steps desperate as he tried to flee.
Without hesitation, Artoria moved. In an instant, Excalibur's golden radiance ignited, and with a single, fluid slash, she cleaved through the nearest raider, her holy blade cutting through the corruption that had twisted its form. The creature let out an inhuman shriek before dissolving into a cloud of dark mist.
Adriel moved in tandem, lifting a hand and bending space itself. In an instant, another raider was crushed out of existence, collapsing into nothingness. "They're acting like rabid dogs," he muttered. "Patrolling the ruins, picking off survivors."
The scavenger they had saved, a malnourished man with hollow eyes, collapsed to his knees before them. His entire body trembled, fear woven into his every movement. "You... You're not one of them..." he rasped, clutching his chest. "Please... don't leave me here."
Adriel exchanged a glance with Artoria before kneeling down, his expression softer but still firm. "We won't," he assured. "But you need to tell us everything you know. What's happening here?"
The man swallowed hard, his gaze flickering between the two Guardians before he spoke in a hushed whisper. "Shurima is no longer ours. It belongs to the God of Strength now."
Artoria's expression darkened. "Hercules."
The scavenger nodded frantically. "He arrived and reshaped the land. The Sun Disc is cracked because he shattered it in battle—his way of declaring himself the true god of these lands. He forced the people to fight each other, to prove their strength in his twisted coliseums. Those who refused... became part of the sands."
Adriel clenched his fists. "And the Ascended?"
"They fell," the man said with a shudder. "Nasus, Renekton, even Azir... they were either killed or worse. I don't know how, but he made them fight until they lost themselves. They're... dead now."
Artoria exhaled slowly. "We have to put an end to this."
Adriel stood, his gaze turning toward the horizon where the remnants of the Sun Disc loomed like a fractured omen. "It's been a very long time since I've faced him. I don't know how much stronger he's become since this dimension was corrupted... but I'm guessing he's waiting for us in that coliseum."
Artoria's eyes gleamed with barely restrained fury. "That sick bastard. So we're just supposed to waltz into his arena and fight like gladiators?"
Adriel's voice was filled with venom. "If that's where he is, then I'll kill him on his own turf."
Artoria glanced at him, studying his expression. Then, with a nod, she followed as Adriel strode toward the coliseum, the weight of battle already pressing down upon them.
...
The vast desert stretched before them, but at its heart, rising like a monolith of despair, stood the Coliseum of Strength—a twisted reflection of what had once been a grand Shuriman arena. Now, it was a grotesque monument to violence, reshaped by Dark Hercules into a pit of endless slaughter.
The towering stone walls were no longer sand-colored but darkened with age and corrosion, etched with thousands of battle scars. Gigantic chains, thick as towers, coiled around the structure like restraints binding an untamed beast. Pulsing veins of black and crimson energy slithered through the cracks of the coliseum's exterior, making it appear alive, breathing and festering under the weight of its new master.
Above it, the sky churned—a vortex of swirling storm clouds, their color a sickly mix of deep purples and void-black, crackling with the unholy energy of the corrupted narrative. The very air vibrated with a suffocating aura.
As they approached the entrance, a guttural roar erupted from within. The sound carried raw power—shaking the very ground beneath them, sending vibrations through the sand and rattling the crumbling pillars around the coliseum.
He knew they were here.
Artoria's hand instinctively went to Excalibur's hilt, her grip tightening. "That presence... it's overwhelming," she admitted, her eyes narrowing as she gazed up at the ominous structure.
Adriel exhaled slowly. "He really decorated this place like it was some kind of Halloween party," he muttered. "One thing's for sure—Hercules still likes to show off a bit too much."
They ascended the bloodstained steps, the stone beneath their feet slick with dried gore. The massive iron gates creaked open before them—not by some unseen force, but by sheer intimidation, as if the arena itself acknowledged their challenge.
Inside, the coliseum was worse than they had imagined.
The stands were packed—not with spectators, but with the dead. Former Shurimans, Ascended warriors, and fallen gladiators stood as eerie, silent witnesses to the carnage below. Their bodies were mutilated, fused with the armor and weapons they had worn in life, their souls trapped in an eternal loop of servitude. Their hollow, glowing eyes followed Artoria and Adriel, but none spoke.
They were prisoners to the Dark's will.
The arena floor was an endless graveyard. Skulls and bones littered the sand, permanently dyed red with the blood of those who had fought before. Towering spires of weapons—blades, axes, spears—jutted from the ground, trophies of those who had perished here.
And at the center of it all, on a throne made from the skulls of slain Ascended, sat the monster who had turned this sacred ground into his personal kingdom.
Adriel mumbled, "That's some Game of Thrones type shit..."
There at the throne, sat Dark Hercules.
Seated atop his grotesque throne, his body radiated a monstrous presence—his once-golden skin had turned jet-black, his veins coursing with the eerie glow of corrupted ichor. His hair, now wild and untamed, shimmered with streaks of deep crimson, as though permanently soaked in blood.
His sheer size was overwhelming—twice the mass of any normal human, every muscle unnaturally exaggerated, his frame larger than even the mightiest Ascended warrior. His very presence bent reality, the air around him warping like a heat haze, as if his existence was too much for this world to contain.
His eyes, once full of the fire of an indomitable spirit, now burned with abyssal hunger. They were pits of black void, reflecting no light—only consuming it.
Draped over his shoulders was a cloak woven from the flesh of fallen champions, their faces still etched in agony. In one hand, he gripped a colossal spiked mace, forged from Darkenstine.
And when he finally spoke, his voice rumbled like an earthquake, carrying a power that sent chills even through Artoria's unwavering resolve.
"Guardian... Ah... it is good to see you've become more powerful," he mused before his abyssal eyes turned toward Artoria, glaring. "And of course, the backstabbing bitch is with you."
He stood, the sheer weight of his presence cracking the ground beneath his feet.
"I will give you credit for what you've managed to do," he continued, stepping forward. "You are like a roach that refuses to die no matter what we do. Not even the very concept of the End was able to kill you," he chuckled darkly. "Honestly, I'm glad it didn't. You'll give me a good time again."
Artoria raised Excalibur, its radiant light cutting through the suffocating darkness. "You dare insult me, you monster!" she countered. "You are a desecration of the true Hercules!"
Hercules grinned, but there was no humor in it—only hunger. "The Hercules you knew was weak. He sought glory, but was shackled by ideals. I have shed those chains. Here, in my domain, only one truth remains: Strength is all that matters."
He spread his arms, gesturing toward the ruined coliseum. "This is my paradise—where the weak are broken, and the strong survive. The Ascended thought they could defy me. They were wrong."
Adriel's gaze remained steady, but inside, he was analyzing every ounce of Hercules' power.
The way the narrative bent around him, the way his mere presence shifted reality—it was clear.
The Hercules he fought before had completely transcended—this was the God of Gods, Hercules.
"Shit..." Adriel thought. "That version of Hercules is at Outerversal... this is gonna be a problem."
Hercules was now so deeply embedded into the corrupted narrative that his very existence rewrote the rules of battle.
Artoria took a step forward. "Your carnage will end today, Hercules! That's a promise!"
Hercules' grin widened. "Good," he rumbled. "You have spirit. Let's see if it lasts when I rip the life from your bones."
With a single movement, he slammed his mace into the ground.
The entire arena shook violently, the shockwave sending sand and debris into the air. The walls of the coliseum shimmered—sealing shut with chains of dark energy.
There was no escape.
Adriel turned to Artoria. "Artoria."
She snapped her head toward him. "What?"
Adriel scratched the back of his head. "He's a lot more powerful than I thought, and no offense..." he sighed, "You're gonna have to deal with the subordinates while I deal with him."
Artoria scoffed but nodded, "Fine... just don't fail."
Adriel smirked, "Trust me," his symbiote suit envelops his face, "I ain't"
Artoria nodded and unsheathed her sword, aiming it at Hercules, "Now, you false God! Come and face us!"
Hercules' grin widened as he looked down upon them, his darkened eyes gleaming with amusement. He leaned forward on his throne, resting his massive arms on the skull-etched armrests.
"You didn't think I'd let you challenge me so easily, did you?" His voice rumbled through the coliseum, carrying a power that sent vibrations through the air itself. "You see, if every weakling who thought themselves worthy could simply march in here and demand battle, this arena would be littered with the corpses of fools." He let out a low, dark chuckle. "No, Guardian's... before you can fight me, you must prove yourselves in my domain."
The audience of mutilated souls and corrupted warriors erupted into roars of approval, their twisted voices cheering for the upcoming bloodshed. The air around them thickened, the already heavy narrative force pressing down harder.
Adriel's eyes darkened. He knew what was coming.
Hercules raised one hand, and with a simple gesture, the ground at the center of the arena split apart. From the abyss below, two figures emerged, bathed in crimson and black energy as the sands themselves seemed to churn in their presence.
"Allow me to introduce my champions," Hercules declared, his voice carrying the weight of a god's decree. "The first—Dario Agger, the man who sold his soul to the Minotaur. The embodiment of greed, power, and brutality."
From the pit, a monstrous figure stepped forward. Dario Agger, CEO of Roxxon Energy, but now something far worse. His form was no longer fully human—hulking, grotesque, and monstrous. His skin had hardened into obsidian armor, his hands elongated into claws, his face partially shifting between human and the snarling visage of a Minotaur. The air around him crackled with raw, violent energy.
"And my second champion..." Hercules' grin stretched wider. "A warrior who knows no limits... a force of destruction beyond even your comprehension... the Dark Death Seed Sentry."
The moment the name left his lips, the very coliseum itself seemed to recoil. The swirling dark energy thickened, twisting in chaotic spirals as the second figure rose from the pit.
Adriel's blood ran cold.
A humanoid figure floated above the ground, cloaked in an aura of raw annihilation. His golden armor was now blackened and cracked, glowing with unstable crimson light. His emblem—once a symbol of heroism—was now distorted, bleeding across his chest like a wound that refused to heal. But it was his eyes that sent a true chill down Adriel's spine.
Empty. Black voids, consuming all light. No humanity. No mercy.
Adriel exhaled sharply, his hand twitching slightly at his side. "Fuck..." he muttered, eyes locked on the floating menace before them.
Artoria narrowed her eyes, sensing Adriel's hesitation. "Who is that?" she asked, tone sharp.
Adriel swallowed, his gaze never leaving Sentry. "A walking apocalypse. If he's fully corrupted, then Hercules isn't the only one we should worry about."
Hercules laughed, the sound like rolling thunder. "What's wrong, Guardian?" His voice dripped with mockery. "You fought me before with that unwavering confidence. But now? You show hesitation? Good. You should be afraid."
The crowd roared once again, their distorted cheers shaking the coliseum as the chains that sealed them in pulsed with unholy energy.
Dark Death Seed Sentry tilted his head ever so slightly. Then, without warning, he vanished.
A single blink.
Adriel barely had time to react before a shockwave exploded from behind them. Artoria instinctively raised Excalibur, and Adriel turned on his heel to see that in less than an instant, Sentry had moved to the far end of the coliseum—without making a single sound.
The sands where he once stood had ceased to exist, a perfect void carved into reality itself.
Artoria's grip on Excalibur tightened. "Adriel."
Adriel took a breath, forcing himself to refocus. "Yeah, I know." He straightened, rolling his shoulders. "This fight just got a lot worse."
Hercules watched them with amusement, then threw his arms wide. "Then let the trial begin!"
As Hercules commenced the battle, the Guardian's senses screamed at him. He instinctively leaned back, narrowly dodging a devastating haymaker from Sentry, whose bloodlust only grew stronger with every passing second. That single punch tore Shurima in half—the shockwave alone sent a tornado of destruction ripping through the land, obliterating everything in its path.
Hercules didn't even flinch at the sheer devastation. He could always fix it later.
"AHAHA! Sentry, my friend, you always go straight to the point!" the God cackled maniacally, his amusement evident.
The Guardian backflipped several feet away, wildly flailing his arms in exaggerated frustration. "Was it necessary to rip the damn region in half?!"
Sentry's void-black eyes remained locked onto him, his expression unreadable. "Don't care. All I want is your head," he said darkly, his voice carrying a sinister resonance.
The Guardian sighed, rolling his shoulders as he cracked his neck. "Ugh... Get in line, buddy. Every single Dark in fiction wants me dead."
For a moment, the two warriors locked eyes, their immeasurable power coiling around them like a suffocating storm.
Then, in a blink—they vanished.
Hercules merely shrugged, unbothered. He already knew what had happened.
Artoria, however, was left baffled by what she had just witnessed. One second, the Guardian had been right beside her. The next, half of Shurima had been split apart, and now, both he and Sentry were gone—disappearing in less than a second.
Her fingers twitched on Excalibur's hilt. "W-Where did they go...?" she muttered, still trying to process the sheer scale of destruction.
She barely had time to react before a massive fist collided with her chest, sending her hurtling through the entire coliseum, crashing violently into the ruined streets of Nashramae. The impact shattered stone and sent debris flying in every direction.
A deep, guttural chuckle rumbled through the air as Dario Agger, the Minotaur, stepped forward, his monstrous form towering over the wreckage. "Focus, Saber," he rumbled. "Your opponent is me."
From beneath the rubble, Artoria gritted her teeth and forced herself back to her feet, dust and blood staining her armor. Her fingers tightened around Excalibur's hilt, and her eyes locked onto the Minotaur with unrelenting determination.
"Then let us battle," she growled.
Her sword ignited with golden light, and with a single step, she lunged.
She swung her sword downward at incredible speed, forcing Dario to barely dodge before quickly countering with a devastating liver punch.
Saber noticed the incoming strike just in time and shifted her stance, blocking the blow with her shoulder before retaliating—slamming into Dario and bashing him through a nearby house.
The Minotaur tumbled across the floor, rolling to his feet just as Saber lunged for his head. But at the last moment, he parried the attack with his horn.
Saber's eyes widened in confusion. "What?!"
Dario smirked, his monstrous frame towering over her. "My horn was replaced with Darkenstine. Better prepared than sorry, don't you think?"
Before she could react, he charged forward, lowering his head like a raging bull, his sheer mass threatening to crush her on impact.
Saber gritted her teeth and took a defensive stance, bracing for the impact. The moment their bodies collided, the ground beneath her cracked and shattered, the raw force sending shockwaves through the ruined streets.
"HAAA!!!" She let out a battle cry, forcing herself forward. At the last second, she twisted her body, slipping past Dario's charge, and with a fluid spin, she delivered a devastating slash across his back.
Dario let out a thunderous roar, his pain turning into rage. He prepared to launch a wild uppercut, but before he could react, Saber had already leapt back, lifting her invisible sword into the air.
At first, it seemed like she had slashed at nothing, but then—Dario saw it.
A crescent-shaped magical air slash erupted from her blade, tearing through the street like a divine executioner.
Dario barely dodged in time, his eyes tracking the devastating attack as it continued its path—splitting a distant mountain in half before obliterating it in a violent explosion.
Dario barely had a moment to react before Saber was already upon him again. She moved with terrifying speed, her sword cutting through the air like a phantom, forcing him on the defensive.
CLANG!
The sound of metal clashing against his Darkenstine horn rang through the ruined streets, sending sparks scattering into the air. Dario roared and swung his massive clawed fist, but Saber ducked at the last second, the sheer force of his swing shattering the buildings behind her into rubble.
She retaliated with a rapid series of slashing strikes, each swing carrying enough force to carve through solid stone. Dario deflected the first two, but the third found its mark—a deep gash across his chest, blackened ichor spraying from the wound.
"RRAAHHH!!"
Dario's furious bellow echoed across the battlefield as he slammed his foot into the ground, causing the earth to quake violently. The shockwave rippled outward, breaking apart the terrain as massive fissures opened beneath them.
Saber leaped into the air just in time, flipping backward before landing gracefully on a fallen obelisk.
Dario wiped the black ichor from his chest, his furious eyes locked onto her. "You're good," he admitted, rolling his shoulders. "But let's see how well you do against this!"
Suddenly, his entire body pulsed with a violent red aura, his muscles expanding grotesquely, veins bulging with corrupted energy. The earth beneath him shattered into dust as he launched himself forward, breaking the sound barrier with pure brute strength.
BOOM!
In an instant, he was in front of Saber, swinging a monstrous punch aimed at her ribs. The sheer force behind the attack distorted the air, but at the last second—
She vanished.
A shockwave of compressed wind and raw power tore through the battlefield as his punch connected with nothing but air, obliterating the ruined city behind them. Entire districts crumbled into dust, buildings flattened like sandcastles against the overwhelming force.
Dario barely had time to process before a golden streak blurred past his vision—
Saber reappeared behind him.
"EX—"
Dario's instincts screamed, and he twisted just as Saber's blade ignited with divine radiance—
"CALIBUR!"
A luminous arc of golden destruction erupted from her sword, carving through the battlefield like a divine judgment.
Dario braced himself, crossing his Darkenstine-forged arms just before the impact.
The blast detonated against him with a force akin to a meteor strike, blinding light engulfing everything in a violent explosion that expanded across the desert, annihilating the remains of Nashramae in a cataclysmic flash.
Sand vaporized, the very air igniting from the sheer heat. The force was so intense that even the corrupted Sun Disc in the distance cracked further, struggling against the raw devastation.
When the dust finally settled—
A massive crater lay where the city once stood.
Saber landed gracefully at the edge of the destruction, her breathing steady.
But then...
The rubble shifted.
BOOM.
A monstrous clawed hand slammed into the ground as Dario slowly rose from the wreckage. His armor was shattered, his body covered in deep gashes oozing dark ichor, but his eyes were still burning with bloodlust.
He chuckled. "Heh... That hurt."
Then, with a grin—
"Now it's my turn."
A crimson glow surged around his body, and in an instant—he was gone.
Saber's eyes widened as an unstoppable force slammed into her from behind, sending her hurtling through mountains at speeds faster than the eye could track.
She crashed into the sand, Excalibur still tightly gripped in her hand. Without hesitation, she rolled out of the crater just as Dario plummeted into it headfirst. The impact triggered an explosion of atomic proportions, sending shockwaves rippling across the desolate landscape. As the dust settled, he rose from the smoldering pit, his glowing red eyes piercing through the sand-filled air.
"Hehe! This is so fun, Saber! I knew you were strong, but this is more than I expected!" He spread his arms wide, grinning maniacally. "Did you get some kind of power boost since joining the Guardians? Because this is ridiculous!" His laughter was sharp, unhinged. "All I heard was that you two just talked—" he tilted his head, his curiosity peaking, "—and that was it?"
Artoria wiped the dust from her lips, her golden eyes narrowing. "Tch. Power boost?" She scoffed, tightening her grip on Excalibur. "No, Dario. I was always this strong. You were just too weak to realize it."
He clicked his tongue rapidly in doubt, "Tch, tch, I don't think so, little one. You used to be a True Dark, I'll give you credit for that. You where at least number two in the strongest soldiers we brought, of course, Demi-Fiend is stronger than you, but now I can say that..." he taps his chin, "Demi-Fiend beats you with at least medium difficulty." he taunted.
Artoria's expression remained unfazed, but her grip on Excalibur tightened. "You think strength is measured by how much destruction one can cause?" She scoffed, her golden eyes burning with defiance. "Demi-Fiend is powerful, I won't deny that. But unlike you, I have something he doesn't—conviction. Power without purpose is meaningless, and that's why you'll never surpass me."
Dario sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "See? That oh-so-knightly attitude of yours is exactly why no one on this side ever liked you. You spout so much bravado that most Darks—whose minds have long evolved past their former selves—found you insufferable," his eyes darkened, malice seeping into his tone. "Honestly, Anasis should've just called on someone more capable. You switched sides faster than a desperate coward clinging to the first hand offered... and all because you and the Guardian talked it out?" He let out a derisive laugh. "How utterly pathetic."
His grin twisted into something far crueler, his words a venomous dagger aimed straight at her soul. "No wonder your life fell apart so badly that you became a Dark in the first place. You were never fit to be a hero... just another lost fool waiting to be broken."
Artoria's expression darkened, her grip on Excalibur tightening as golden energy surged around her, the sheer pressure of her presence distorting the air. Her eyes locked onto Dario's with unwavering resolve, the weight of her words carrying the force of an unshakable truth.
"You're wrong, Dario." Her voice was steady, yet carried an undeniable fury. "You mock me for changing, but that's where you Darks fail to understand. Change isn't weakness—it's growth. It's realizing the path you walk is wrong and having the strength to correct it."
She stepped forward, the cracked earth beneath her trembling with each motion. "You call me disappointing? Then you never understood me to begin with. I never fought for Anasis. I never fought for your twisted ideals. I fought because I was lost, confused—and when I realized the truth, I refused to be shackled by darkness."
Artoria pointed Excalibur at him, its golden radiance splitting through the corrupted sky like a divine judgment. "And don't you dare insult the Guardian. You may call him weak, a fool, whatever your shallow mind can muster, but unlike you, he doesn't fight for himself—he fights for everyone. And that is why you will never understand true strength."
Her aura surged, shaking the very fabric of reality around them. "Now, enough talk, Dario. You wanted to test my resolve? Come then—I'll show you the strength of someone who has walked through the abyss and emerged reformed!"
Dario let out a low chuckle before it erupted into a crazed laughter. "Hah! That's more like it! Show me the fire that made you worthy of being one of us!"
Without warning, he lunged forward, his massive frame moving with terrifying speed. Artoria barely had time to brace herself before his fist came crashing down, colliding with Excalibur as she raised it to block. The impact sent shockwaves tearing through the battlefield, splitting the very ground beneath them. Entire dunes were blasted away, reduced to nothing but scattered particles in the wind.
Artoria gritted her teeth, skidding backward as she absorbed the force. With a swift pivot, she retaliated, swinging Excalibur in a blinding arc. A golden crescent of energy tore through the air, splitting the battlefield apart as it raced toward Dario.
He smirked. "Too slow!"
The monstrous warrior ducked beneath the attack, the golden slash obliterating a ruined structure behind him, reducing it to dust. He countered immediately, rushing Artoria with his horns lowered, his body crackling with corrupted energy.
But Artoria was ready.
"Hah!" She twisted her body, dodging to the side at the last moment before slamming her armored boot into his side, sending him flying into a jagged rock formation. The entire cliffside crumbled from the force of his impact.
Dario emerged from the rubble, wiping blood from his lips with the back of his hand. His eyes gleamed with manic excitement. "Now this is a fight! But let's see if you can handle this!"
With a roar, the corrupted energy within him surged, his already monstrous frame growing even larger. His veins pulsed with dark power, and cracks of black lightning erupted around him. The corrupted Darkenstine horn on his head gleamed as he sprinted forward, swinging his massive arms like wrecking balls.
Artoria ducked under the first swing, feeling the air pressure alone cut through the surrounding ruins like a blade. She countered with a precise slash aimed at his exposed ribs, but he anticipated it, catching her blade between his fingers.
"Gotcha."
Before she could react, he twisted, hurling her through the air like a ragdoll. She crashed into the remains of an old temple, her impact sending a plume of dust skyward.
...
Artoria grunted, holding her side as her once-pristine armor cracked and splintered under the immense force of battle. She clenched her teeth, feeling the sharp sting of corruption coursing through her body.
"The Darkenstine... it hurts even more now that I'm a Guardian," she muttered bitterly, clicking her tongue in frustration.
She barely had time to react before her instincts screamed.
A monstrous presence loomed behind her.
Before she could fully turn, black chains of corrupted energy erupted from the ground, snaring her limbs in place.
Her eyes widened.
"Tch—!"
Dark energy surged around Dario Agger, his massive body moving faster than any monster of his size should have been capable of. His muscles bulged grotesquely, pulsating with dark power as he charged, his fist drawn back like a warhead ready to fire.
"This will hurt, Saber."
The last thing she saw was his smug grin—right before his fist met her gut.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
The sheer impact of the punch was like the wrath of a god made manifest.
A deafening shockwave tore across the battlefield, ripping apart entire landscapes in an instant. The air itself exploded outward as a tsunami of force flattened everything in a straight line behind her. The sands of Shurima were vaporized. Ancient ruins, entire oases, and once-proud temples were reduced to dust within the blink of an eye.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
Artoria didn't just get sent flying.
She got punched through the planet.
Her body torpedoed through the planet's crust, blasting straight down into the deepest layers of bedrock. Molten magma spewed violently in her wake as her superheated form became a golden comet of destruction.
The speed at which she traveled was so absurdly fast that she bypassed everything—drilling through entire continents, tectonic plates, and even underground civilizations—until she reached the other side of the world.
And then—
She burst out through the opposite hemisphere.
Like an unstoppable meteor, her body erupted out of the planet's surface, leaving behind a colossal, burning tunnel of destruction that spanned the entirety of Runeterra.
She soared into the vastness of space, her body rotating violently as she pierced the void beyond the planet.
For a moment, everything was eerily silent.
Far below, Runeterra itself trembled.
The world-shaking impact had triggered earthquakes across entire regions. The seas churned violently, cities on the opposite side of the world felt the quakes, and distant mountains collapsed under the sheer force of the devastation.
And then, as if reality itself was pulling her back—
Gravity took hold.
Artoria's mangled body, now superheated by the friction of planetary travel, began its catastrophic descent.
From the ground, survivors—Shuriman remnants, corrupted warriors, and even Dario himself—looked up in silent awe and horror as a blazing golden streak slashed through the darkness of the sky.
A falling star.
A celestial apocalypse.
She was coming back down.
"Oh, sh—"
BOOM!
A second explosion, even greater than the first, rocked the world.
The collision of her body against Runeterra's surface created an explosion so massive that it ignited the atmosphere. The sheer force obliterated everything in a hundred-mile radius, sending shockwaves powerful enough to level cities and part entire oceans.
The continent itself shifted from the impact, sending tremors rippling across the entire planet.
As the dust settled...
A gargantuan crater—so deep it touched the planet's magma core—smoldered in the aftermath.
And at its center...
A single, battered figure stood.
Her armor was shattered. Her body was covered in cuts, bruises, and burns. Her breath was ragged, her golden hair singed, and her sword half-buried in the molten ground.
And yet—
Her eyes still burned.
With a slow, deliberate movement, she wiped the blood from her lips and spat onto the cracked earth.
Then, with a low growl of defiance, she tightened her grip on Excalibur and glared up at Dario.
"Tch... you've officially angered me, monster."
...
Dario smirked. "She's definitely gotten stronger. That attack would have killed her when she was a Dark, but now she survived it with only visible injuries? Just what the hell did that Guardian do to boost his allies this much?" he wondered, his thoughts circling the enigma before him.
The dust had barely settled. The world itself still trembled from the catastrophic impact of Artoria's return.
Dario Agger, the Minotaur, laughed.
A deep, guttural, mocking laughter.
"HAHAHAHA! You're still standing after that?!" His massive, monstrous frame was outlined by dark energy, his corrupted veins pulsing like molten rivers beneath his flesh. "I PUNCHED YOU THROUGH THE PLANET, AND YOU'RE STILL BREATHING?!"
Artoria wiped her mouth, the sting of blood and fire still fresh on her tongue.
She ignored his arrogance.
Instead, she tightened her grip on Excalibur.
The blade hummed with divine light, its golden radiance cutting through the thick, oppressive darkness of Shurima's corrupted battlefield.
Dario's expression shifted from amusement to something colder.
Something closer to respect.
Then, with an explosive charge, he lunged.
Artoria moved.
Her blade and his horn clashed, and the entire battlefield buckled under the sheer force. The air itself shattered. The very fabric of reality bent and screamed as two titanic forces collided, shaking the very stars above.
Blow after blow, neither warrior yielded.
Dario's monstrous strength tore through mountains, every swing of his Darkenstine-forged horns capable of cracking the earth beneath them. He moved like a beast, fought like a war god, and struck like a titan.
Artoria, however, was faster.
Where Dario's brutality shattered, she flowed like a tempest.
Where his rage blinded, her focus sharpened.
She danced between his monstrous strikes, parrying with razor-thin precision, turning his raw power against him with each calculated step.
Their battle tore across the land.
From Nashramae's ruins to the fractured Valley of Song, from the broken Marrowmark Markets to the crimson sands of Shurima's former capital, they fought.
And then—
She saw her opening.
Dario roared, lunging with a devastating uppercut meant to launch her beyond the sky.
But Artoria didn't dodge.
She stepped forward.
Right into his guard.
Her left hand clenched into a fist.
A golden aura erupted around her, the weight of her will and strength manifesting as pure, divine might.
She struck first.
A single punch.
To his jaw.
CRACK.
Dario's entire body whiplashed violently, his enormous frame lifting off the ground as a shockwave detonated through his skull.
His monstrous form tumbled backward, crashing through five ruined temples before slamming into the remains of the Coliseum of Strength.
For the first time, he struggled to stand.
Blood dripped from his mouth. His horns showed visible strain.
His pride was shattered.
Artoria exhaled. Her body ached, but she was far from done.
Dario was beaten.
But not defeated.
Not yet.
He gritted his teeth, rage boiling in his eyes. His Dark-enhanced muscles bulged, his entire body glowing with unholy strength.
"I AM NOT DONE WITH YOU YET, S—"
Excalibur ignited.
A golden torrent of divine light exploded forth, illuminating the battlefield like a second sun.
Dario's voice died in his throat.
For the first time in centuries—he felt fear.
He saw Excalibur's true radiance.
Artoria raised the blade, its golden edge humming with limitless power.
The very air shuddered as the sword pulsed, charged with an unstoppable force.
Dario's instincts screamed at him to run.
But there was nowhere to go.
Artoria's eyes glowed golden, locked onto his.
"Ex—"
The heavens trembled.
"—CALIBUR!"
The world was consumed in light.
A devastating beam of raw, holy energy erupted from her sword, ripping through everything in its path.
Dario screamed as the beam engulfed him completely.
The remains of the Coliseum of Strength were disintegrated, the sky itself parted in two, and the land for miles was purified of its corruption as the divine sword cut through reality itself.
When the light faded...
Dario Agger was no more.
His massive frame had been reduced to dust.
His legacy, his twisted power, his existence... erased.
Artoria stood amidst the ruins, panting heavily.
The battle was over.
She sheathed Excalibur, her grip tightening one last time before releasing the tension in her shoulders.
She fell to her knees, exhausted.
"Where are you... Guardian?" she murmured, her concern growing now that her battle was over.
...
A Few Minutes Before...
Before Artoria's battle against Dario began—before she could even question where Adriel and Sentry had disappeared to—the Guardian and the Dark Death Seed Sentry had already torn through the very laws of reality itself.
In the span of a Plank second—a time so infinitesimally small that it defied mortal comprehension—Adriel and Sentry's battle had transcended mere space and time. Their clash did not just rupture the air or shatter the land; it tore through the very foundation of existence.
The sheer force of their collision had punched a hole through the League of Legends Omniverse itself. Not a mere portal, nor a dimensional breach, but a complete annihilation of the boundaries that defined its reality. Universes crumbled in their wake, collapsing like shattered glass, entire timelines spiraling into nothingness as their battle ripped across dimensions with the force of narrative-breaking destruction.
They weren't just breaking through reality. They were leaving it.
A single exchange of blows sent them cascading past the Astral Realms, past the World Runes' tethered threads, past the highest point of League's cosmic hierarchy.
And then, they were gone.
League of Legends no longer contained them.
Their very presence, moving at speeds beyond the conceptual limits of fiction itself, forced them into the neighboring frontier—the Anime Omniverse.
The two combatants crash-landed like cosmic meteors, the sheer force of their impact distorting the heavens and rewriting the physical laws of whatever world they had entered. The sky cracked apart in fractures of kaleidoscopic colors, the land itself screamed as time distorted, and the stars blinked in confusion, momentarily unsure if they even existed anymore.
Then, silence.
Adriel wiped the blood from his lip, his feet pressing into the familiar ground. He recognized where he was.
The Guardian exhaled. "Shit..." he pinched the bridge of his nose, "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH MULTITASKING I HAD TO DO?! I HAD TO FIGHT AND FIX SHIT AT THE SAME TIME, YOU ASSHOLE!"
Sentry stood up, a gaping hole in his chest as it regenerated itself. He pushed a Hyperreality of an anime aside as he glared at the Guardian. "For someone who was multitasking, you certainly are very annoying to combat," he analyzed the Guardian's arms, "God Of Martial Arts skill, I'm guessing?"
"Correct," he made no attempts to hide it, as he assumed Sentry also had the same skill.
"Well, now I know how annoying it feels to fight someone with the same skill," he sighed.
"This is war just got increasingly annoying if I'm gonna face opponents that have similar skills to me," the Guardian thought.
"Great. We crash-landed in the layer where all anime Omniverses exist as their own separate realities," The Guardian sighed.
Sentry casually grabbed the Bleach Omniverse in the palm of his hand, examining it like a fragile glass sphere. "Don't tell me you nerds actually named this layer in your fancy Nexus," he scoffed.
"Yup," The Guardian nodded. "I called it The Akashic Reel."
Sentry stroked his chin in mock contemplation, then nodded as if in approval. "Hmm, I see. So you're finally starting to organize things in the cosmology, huh?" He popped his knuckles with a satisfying crack.
The Guardian simply raised his middle finger. "Man, fuck you."
Sentry chuckled before shifting the conversation. "Before we continue, why Akashic?"
The Guardian let out a sigh. "Guess I'll entertain you. The term 'Akashic' comes from The Akashic Records—a mystical concept from various religious and esoteric traditions," he explained.
"And in what context are you using it?" Sentry asked, his curiosity seemingly genuine.
The Guardian frowned. "Why does he keep asking me this? It's as if they don't even understand their own cosmology..." The thought nagged at him, but he decided to brush it off.
He continued, "In this cosmology, The Akashic Archives represent a structured system that records, stores, and maintains every form of fiction, media, and narrative across infinite realities on an Omniversal scale. Instead of being purely mystical, it's recontextualized into a digital, metaphysical, and transfictional archive."
Sentry arched an eyebrow. "So, long story short?"
The Guardian crossed his arms. "The Akashic Archives serve as a metaphysical 'internet' that contains all variations, crossovers, and theoretical versions of fiction. Instead of just being a passive storage system, it actively sorts stories, organizing them based on their nature, themes, and medium."
The Guardian finished his brief lesson, watching for Sentry's reaction. The golden-clad powerhouse simply smirked. "Well, you've certainly gained more knowledge. Guess that comes with getting stronger," he said cryptically.
The Guardian narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, frowning.
Sentry tilted his head slightly. "Do you think this cosmos was just built as it is?" he asked.
The Guardian crossed his arms. "You make it sound like it wasn't."
"It's called Passive World-Building. Of course, it wasn't. It existed before, but ever since you came into the picture, it's been changing. A lot." Sentry stated matter-of-factly.
The Guardian's expression darkened. "The hell is he trying to say?" He clenched his fists, irritation growing. "Can you stop acting so mysterious and just say it?!"
Sentry grinned. "I don't think I will." Then, with an eerie chuckle, he burst into laughter.
"HAHAHAHA!"
The Guardian felt something twist in his gut. "What does he know that I don't? What the fuck is he saying?!"
He dashed forward, the mere twitch of his body bending space around him. "WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?!"
Sentry matched his speed, their fists colliding in a thunderous shockwave that rippled through existence itself. Both fighters pushed against each other, attempting to overpower one another.
"Hiding?!" Sentry laughed maniacally. "HA! THEN COME AND FIND OUT!"
Without warning, Sentry's eyes blazed with burning crimson energy as he unleashed a devastating beam of light. The Guardian barely managed to lean back, dodging the deadly blast.
The beam struck the Omniversal barriers—the invisible force holding the Anime Omniverse together.
The entire layer shook.
The sheer force sent tremors across existence, disrupting the delicate balance of countless multiverses. The shockwave disoriented both fighters, momentarily throwing them off balance.
But The Guardian recovered first.
Activating his lateral repulsion, he rocketed forward, closing the distance in an instant.
With a bone-shattering tackle, he slammed into Sentry, propelling them both through a rift in reality—straight into a random anime universe.
...
Inside the anime.
The Guardian and Sentry clashed, their blows twisting space. The Guardian launched a web line, expertly maneuvering in the vacuum of space as the strands latched onto Sentry's face, blinding him momentarily. Taking advantage of the momentary opening, he spun at incredible velocity, his movements warping space around him.
With a final burst of force, the Guardian hurled Sentry towards a neighboring planet—one that orbited close to the central world of this anime's plot.
Sentry's body collided with the planet's moon, the sheer impact igniting a cataclysmic explosion upon impact. The lunar surface cracked and caved inward, forming a colossal crater that swallowed entire landscapes. Fractures webbed outwards, splitting the moon like shattered glass, its fragments drifting into the void.
Yet, the Dark did not remain buried for long.
A burst of dark energy erupted from the wreckage, disintegrating the remaining webs as Sentry emerged engulfed in burning aura. His eyes glowed with malicious intensity, a feral grin splitting his face.
"You think you can keep me down, bug?"
With a sudden snap of his head, twin beams of concentrated heat erupted from his eyes, carving through the void of space like a scythe of destruction.
The Guardian, ever-agile, narrowly dodged the onslaught, twisting through the vacuum with an evasive maneuver. He closed the distance, rocketing toward Sentry with a blazing fist, ready to strike.
But he had forgotten something crucial in the heat of the moment.
Darks always possess abilities beyond their original forms.
Sentry smirked as his heat vision suddenly vanished—not because it stopped, but because the energy itself had been consumed by the very fabric of space.
A hole in reality opened.
The same heat beams surged through an unexpected angle, emerging from an unseen rift—not a portal, but a spatial fold, as if the attack had squeezed through the seams of existence itself.
The Guardian's instincts flared, but it was too late.
The redirected beams struck him point-blank, enveloping him in a blinding inferno of destructive energy.
"NGH!"
The Guardian spiraled out of control, his form careening through space, the sheer force of the impact sending tremors through the planet's atmosphere.
Before he could regain his bearings, Sentry was upon him.
With blinding speed, he snatched the Guardian by the face, his fingers tightening like a vice around his skull.
Then, like a meteor, he descended—dragging his foe straight toward the planet's many moons.
They turned into a streak of celestial fire, a harbinger of devastation. Closing in into the celestial body.
BOOM!
The shockwave upon their collision obliterated that moons surface.
An explosion of atomic proportions engulfed half the moon, lighting up it's surface..
Yet, before the dust could even settle, Sentry's fist glowed with boundless energy—a blow capable of mass destruction.
"TAKE THIS!"
With monstrous force, he swung downward, his fist screaming through the air.
But the Guardian moved.
At the last moment, he threw his arms up, shielding himself from the attack, the energy clashed in a maelstrom of raw power.
The very moon quaked beneath them.
(Visual example on the attack)
The dust cleared, revealing the Sentry, his body still crackling with residual energy as he prepared to gain distance. But before he could escape, he felt something latch onto his arm—a sudden sting of pain erupted as a sharp stinger embedded itself into his flesh.
"HAAA! YOU LITTLE—" he roared, his eyes igniting with searing heat, ready to unleash another devastating blast.
But the Guardian was faster.
With a flick of his wrist, a small portal materialized, sending his arm through it. The Guardian's fist plunged through the distortion, only to emerge from another rift—slamming into Darks chest with bone-crushing force.
The impact sent Sentry hurtling downward, his trajectory forcing his heat vision to fire wildly.
The burning beams streaked through the void, striking the nearby moon—and in an instant, the celestial body shattered.
A violent detonation erupted, splitting the lunar mass in half. Entire continental plates of the moon fractured and crumbled, enormous shards of planetary debris scattering in all directions like a dying star exploding in silence.
The Sentry, now buried beneath the fallout, gritted his teeth in rage.
The Guardian, hovering above the devastation, exhaled sharply.
"What's with you and blowing shit up?" He muttered, watching as the remains of the obliterated celestial body drifted into the abyss.
(Visual example on the attack)
The Guardian's Omega Venom Blast had sent Sentry reeling, but only for a moment. The Dark straightened mid-air, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the energy blast like an afterthought. His void-black eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Not bad, bug."
Before The Guardian could capitalize, Sentry vanished, his movement too fast for even Spider-Sense precognition to fully register.
"Shit, he moved faster than time-," Was the Guardian's thoughts before he was interrupted.
BOOM!
The Guardian's instincts barely kicked in as he felt a devastating elbow slam into his ribs, the impact shattering what little remained of the moon's surface beneath them. He coughed, but his enhanced physiology compensated for the sudden loss of breath. He retaliated with a venom-infused spinning kick, his body twisting with the precision of a martial deity.
Sentry, however, was no slouch. His combat prowess allowed him to read the movement before it connected. He shifted his weight, parrying the kick with a well-timed forearm block and countering with a palm strike aimed at The Guardian's chest.
The Guardian anticipated the move—he'd fought countless masters before. He leaned back, using a seamless Aikido maneuver to redirect the force, then flipped over Sentry's shoulder, delivering a venom-charged palm thrust to the spine.
Sentry grunted, staggering forward.
"Okay," Sentry chuckled darkly, rubbing his back. "You're actually keeping up."
The Guardian didn't respond. He was already moving, his speed warping space as he dashed in, striking with relentless, flowing combinations. Elbows, knee strikes, palm thrusts—all executed with the perfection of a martial arts God.
Sentry matched him blow for blow.
The fight became a dance of pure combat mastery, both warriors executing movements that shattered the moon's floating debris. Every block, counter, and strike happened within microseconds, with the sheer force of their movements distorting space.
Suddenly, Sentry saw an opening and took it. He faked a straight punch, forcing The Guardian to react, then twisted his body mid-motion, delivering a brutal rising knee to The Guardian's chin.
The Guardian's head snapped back, and before he could recover, Sentry spun with a follow-up elbow, sending him crashing into a floating mass of lunar debris.
The Guardian groaned, shaking off the hit. His body automatically adapted, mitigating the damage, but Sentry had gained momentum.
He needed to shift the battle.
Then, an idea.
As Sentry charged in for the finisher, The Guardian flicked his fingers—an imperceptible command sent into the very code of reality.
A split-second hiccup in the universe's logic.
Sentry's charge suddenly stuttered, his movement lagging for an instant—just enough.
The Guardian exploited it, delivering a devastating Venom Punch directly to Sentry's face.
BOOM!
The shockwave tore apart what little remained of the moon's foundation, sending Sentry hurtling through space.
Sentry gritted his teeth, shaking off the strange glitch in reality. His eyes narrowed.
"You..." His expression darkened. "That wasn't just speed, was it?"
The Guardian smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Nah. Just a little... programming oversight."
Sentry's eyes flared, realization setting in.
"You're hacking reality."
The Guardian gave a cocky shrug. "Technically, I wrote this reality's script for that attack, so yeah."
Sentry chuckled lowly. "That's cute."
Then, his aura darkened, distorting the space around them.
"But you think I don't see the lines of the code too?"
The Guardian's Spider-Sense screamed.
Sentry snapped his fingers.
Reality recalibrated.
The Guardian suddenly felt a crushing force clamp down on him—as if the very laws of physics had rewritten themselves in real-time.
"Let's see you hack your way out of this," Sentry growled.
Before The Guardian could react, Sentry vanished—and reappeared behind him, driving an annihilation-imbued fist into his spine.
The Guardian felt time slow. The force of the hit was unlike before—it was conceptually weighted, altering the narrative's gravity itself.
He crashed downward, breaking through the shattered remnants of the moon's surface and rocketing towards the Main planet for the anime.
Meanwhile in the anime...
A sea of dying soldiers and blood-soaked earth greeted him as he crashed through the sky like a meteor.
BOOOOM!
The battlefield erupted upon impact, sending troops flying as The Guardian's body skidded across the war-torn ground, ripping apart the terrain.
He stumbled to his feet, disoriented, before his enhanced senses kicked in.
He wasn't alone.
Sentry was already here.
The Guardian's eyes darted around, his precognition screaming—then he saw it.
Tigrevurmud Vorn, a 16-year-old Earl.
The anime's main character, the young archer standing amidst the carnage, unaware.
Sentry had seen him too.
The Dark smirked. "There's the keystone of this world."
In an instant, Sentry moved.
The Guardian's instincts flared.
"NO—!"
Sentry vanished from sight, but The Guardian pushed his power to the max, forcing time to slow in his perception.
He saw the death unfold before it happened.
Sentry's fist inches away from Tigrevurmud's skull.
If he connected, the entirety of this reality would cease to exist.
The Guardian teleported.
BOOM!
He intercepted the attack, blocking Sentry's fist with both arms—but the force sent him flying across the battlefield, ripping through the landscape.
"I can't let this drag on anymore, this is getting too dangerous," The Guardian thought.
The Guardian focused his mind, reaching deep into the source code of existence itself.
His fingertips twitched, initiating a full-scale hack into Sentry's character data.
Code flooded his vision.
Lines of Sentry's character structure unfolded before him.
Every ability. Every power. Every weakness.
If he could just overwrite it—
Suddenly, the code changed.
"WHAT?!"
Sentry grinned maliciously.
"You really thought I wouldn't see that coming?"
The entire hack was reversed.
A feedback loop of corrupting Dark energy surged back into The Guardian's body.
"AGGGHH—!"
His vision blurred as his body twisted in agony, his own code being forcibly rewritten by Sentry's counter-hack.
"I don't just exist in fiction. I control it too."
The Guardian collapsed to one knee, his entire system crashing. Vomiting black blood on to the floor.
His body was breaking down.
But—he wasn't done.
With his last ounce of strength, he summoned a surge of Omega Venom energy—not to kill, but to repel Sentry.
A colossal explosion erupted from his body, sending Sentry hurtling into the skyline.
BOOOOM!
The battlefield shook violently as Sentry was forcefully thrown beyond the atmosphere, vanishing into the void.
The Guardian stood there, breathing heavily.
His vision darkened.
He swayed... then collapsed.
Seconds before...
No Pov
The battlefield was drenched in blood, the cries of fallen soldiers and the clashing of steel filling the air. The Silver Meteor Army, led by Eleonora Viltaria, was effortlessly crushing the enemy forces. Tigrevurmud Vorn followed his commander into battle with his wooden bow against the war maiden.
Then, it happened.
A titanic shockwave erupted in the sky above, like a divine hammer striking the heavens.
Every single soldier froze.
The air itself buckled, rippling as if reality had been warped and torn. The sun dimmed for an instant, and a deafening BOOOOM echoed across the land—an explosion so impossibly vast that it swallowed the horizon itself.
Tigrevurmud barely had time to process what was happening before a wave of displaced air rushed through the battlefield, flattening banners, uprooting trees, and knocking soldiers off their feet. Some screamed as they were hurled backward like ragdolls in a hurricane.
Eleonora Viltaria, the Vanadis of Silver Flash, instinctively raised her Dragonic Weapon, Arifar, its mystical energy pulsing in response to the unknown catastrophe. Her piercing red eyes darted toward the sky, searching for the source of the disturbance.
"What in the—?!"
Before she could finish, another explosion erupted from the heavens, as if a star had detonated above their world. The sky itself split, a visible tear forming for a fraction of a second before sealing shut.
Then, like celestial debris falling from the gods' war, a figure descended—no, plummeted—from the heavens.
CRAAAAASH!
A massive crater tore into the battlefield near Tigrevurmud's position, dust and shattered earth spiraling into the air. The sheer force of impact cracked the land like fragile glass.
Silence.
Every soldier, every knight, everyone stood in stunned disbelief.
A murmur spread through the ranks. Whispers of "Was that a meteor?!" and "Did the heavens just attack us?!" filled the field.
Tigrevurmud steadied himself, his grip tightening around his bow as he cautiously approached the impact zone. His instincts screamed danger, but his curiosity outweighed his fear.
The dust finally began to settle.
Through the haze, a figure lay motionless in the center of the crater. His body was battered, his suit dirty with blood, his breathing shallow.
It wasn't a meteor.
It was a man.
Tigrevurmud narrowed his eyes. "Who...?"
Eleonora approached the crater, her white hair billowing in the wind, her blade pulsing with energy. She had seen many things in battle—but never had destruction come from the sky so suddenly.
"...hmmm," she hummed, voice low but tense.
"That man is not from this world."
To Be Continued...