The chasm, once a mere opening along the ascent through the abyss, had become a battleground where concepts and wills collided. A place scarred by the blood of night and the desperate effort of a man and a machine.
Zeta 4 and Kiyoshi hadn't expected to face something of this magnitude again. The presence of the Profaned Lady of Light was as crushing as the Raven King at his peak. Her radiance wasn't merely a threat—it was annihilation itself.
Fighting her now meant abandoning hope. The only apparent alternative was a frantic retreat, a desperate attempt to find refuge in this twisted world.
But Zeta 4 reached a different conclusion.
There was no escape.
Fate offered no exits.
He recalculated. His nanotechnology restructured his body. Lines of cosmic equations stretched through his metallic frame as he streamlined his mass into a single form: a blade.
A technological artifact crafted to be wielded by the greatest swordsman present.
Kiyoshi needed no explanation. He understood instantly. His hand closed around Zeta 4's hilt. No hesitation. No room for doubt. Only the absolute certainty of the next strike.
Man and machine became one.
They hurled themselves into the light.
The Profaned Lady of Light, though smaller in stature than the Raven King, carried a presence that seemed to bend time itself. Her glow distorted the space around her, as though reality strained to escape her reach.
For Kiyoshi and Zeta 4, it was like charging into the sun.
And in that moment, as they tore through the distance between themselves and the radiant entity, Zeta 4 remembered an old story.
A tale from a civilization long forgotten in the Machine God's homeworld.
Icarus.
The winged man who dared to defy the skies, flying too high, reaching for the sun.
And who, for his ambition, fell burning.
But Kiyoshi was not thinking of old stories.
He did not see the Lady of Light as an untouchable god.
To him, she was simply an obstacle.
And every obstacle could be cut.
The Collision
The Lady of Light raised her hand—a delicate, effortless motion. But the intent behind it was far from gentle. The light around her condensed into a dense mass. It was not an attack; it was a verdict. If she touched them, they wouldn't simply die. They would cease to have ever existed.
But Kiyoshi didn't care.
He poured his entire sword intent into Zeta 4.
The blade became an extension of his soul, a concept forged to divide anything.
The impact was catastrophic.
The chasm convulsed. The oppressive light faltered.
An eclipse was born within the abyss.
For a moment, the profaned radiance was denied.
And in that fleeting instant, a traitor revealed himself.
The Raven King emerged from the shadows.
He no longer needed complete control.
He needed only a single strike.
The shadows surged behind Kiyoshi and Zeta 4—betrayers, servants of a king who refused to accept deposition.
The monarch of night lunged forward, his obsidian blade—his own beak—aimed at the samurai's heart.
Kiyoshi noticed.
And in the final moment, he released Zeta 4.
The technological blade left his hand as his katana slid from its sheath in one singular, devastating motion.
The cut came like a flood.
A dragon rising from a storm-swollen river.
An unstoppable torrent.
Kiyoshi's blade met the Raven King's.
Zeta 4 had not been abandoned.
He had anticipated this.
His thrusters roared to life.
He launched himself forward.
He was more than a sword.
He was will.
He was a fragment of the Machine God's order.
And while Kiyoshi confronted darkness, Zeta 4 charged against the light.
The Machine's Decision
Zeta 4's form unraveled.
All that remained was his core.
A single point of radiant energy within the swirling chaos.
His nanobots swirled around it, etched with sacred inscriptions from the Machine God.
He didn't aim to attack.
He only wanted the magnificence of his god to be seen before he was destroyed.
But then…
He performed a miracle.
Or rather, his god did.
The core expanded.
It didn't just glow.
It detonated with light.
A quasar was born in the chasm.
The sacred radiance clashed against the profaned light of the Lady of Light.
And for one fleeting second, divinity was contested.
Kiyoshi didn't waste the moment.
Zeta 4's blast didn't merely resist the Lady's power.
It wounded the Raven King.
Not physically.
Conceptually.
And the samurai saw it.
Possibilities multiplied.
Infinite.
He condensed them into one.
He swung his blade with unwavering certainty.
He would cut everything.
The Raven King.
The shadows.
The night itself.
His sword descended.
Fragments of darkness scattered.
Not a single feather was spared.
The tyrant was gone.
In the void left behind, a core remained.
Kiyoshi fixed his gaze on it.
He hesitated not even for an instant.
He cut through the core, infusing its energy into his katana.
Kiyoshi turned toward the twin lights.
Toward Zeta 4.
Toward the final barrier between him and the profaned radiance.
Every slash he delivered overflowed with power.
Every cut returned what Zeta 4 had lost.
The core absorbed it.
The nanobots reassembled.
The machine reclaimed his humanoid form.
But his combat functions remained offline.
His body was overloaded.
But rest was a luxury yet denied.
The profaned light stabilized.
With no sacred counterforce left, the Lady of Light turned her attention to them.
She did not show anger.
Only sorrow.
A single golden tear slid down her cheek.
The sacred liquid fell to the ground.
And the world erupted in blinding radiance.
Zeta 4 and Kiyoshi lost their sight.