Stark stood his ground, unwavering, his crimson aura blazing like an inferno.
The reflection of the moon descended, a harbinger of utter destruction.
The sheer pressure from the falling celestial body caused the ground beneath him to crack and groan.
Stark, however, showed no sign of retreat, only pure determination.
[Third Option: Face the Lunar Cataclysm head on.]
The choice was madness itself, but Stark had made it without hesitation.
He took his stance.
"Wait a damn minute." Aphex, hovering above, stared wide-eyed at Stark, his smug grin faltering. "What the hell are you doing?"
Even he was surprised.
Stark didn't respond. Instead, his body tightened as he braced for what was to come.
The outside world erupted into confusion too.
"What's happening?"
"MOVE, CHOSEN!"
"Save yourself, Chosen!"
Yet, Stark's focus was unshakable.
