The air around the group crackled with tension as Stark, Sora, Shock, and Artist stood in the eerie street of Termina, facing the Moonscorched Inquisitor.
Its blackened robes fluttered with the unearthly energy that radiated from it, a bell in its single remaining hand.
Stark kept his gaze steady, watching the other participants closely.
The Inquisitor was a real threat, but the greater danger now lay in the ones standing beside him.
"Guess it's finally time to put on a show," Shock muttered, electricity flickering around his body like a second skin.
His eyes darted between the Inquisitor and Stark, the grin on his face widening.
Artist, as usual, remained eerily silent, his gaze lost in the void as if his mind was consumed by something else entirely.
His paintbrushes, which seemed to materialize out of thin air, floated lazily by his side, dripping with vibrant, shifting colors.
