ATTICUS’S ODYSSEY: REINCARNATED INTO A PLAYGROUND

Valkarion, the Dragon race paragon, had fully transformed.

His body expanded, molten scales forming across a mountain-sized frame, horns glowing, wings unfurling with force enough to scatter clouds. His eyes burned like suns.

He roared, releasing a colossal firestorm, a flame so massive it split the air in two and screamed toward Ozeroth.

But Ozeroth only sighed mid-punch.

“You puny primitives and your primitive techniques… Let me show you how to use it better.”

His blows still struck down on Jezeneth without pause, and then his gaze sharpened, a glow of energy igniting in his throat.

“Dragon Breath.”

A torrent of purple flame burst from his mouth, clashing against the incoming inferno. The sky split in half, crimson fire and radiant purple colliding in a devastating blaze.

The smoke had barely cleared before Valkarion burst through it, massive jaws wide, glowing, trying to swallow Ozeroth whole.

But Ozeroth finally paused, his fists stopping.

Jezeneth, buried under debris, opened her eyes, only to find him gone.

Above her, Ozeroth appeared in the sky, floating just above Valkarion’s head. His second hammer had returned to his grip.

And then;

BOOM!

He brought it down, smashing it onto the Dragon’s skull like a divine judgment. The massive head jerked down, hurtling straight toward the ground, toward Jezeneth.

Her eyes widened in panic. She summoned a blood-made shield, thick and glowing.

But it wasn’t enough.

CRASH!

The Dragon’s head slammed into the barrier and shattered it like paper, the impact hurling Jezeneth deep into the earth again.

But Ozeroth didn’t stop.

His hammer came down again. And again. And again.

Smashing. Smashing. SMASHING.

Bone splintered, scales shattered, blood erupted in geysers.

Valkarion screamed, his body writhing, unleashing blasts of fire in desperation.

The earth turned into a sea of fire, stretching for kilometers, heat rising to unbearable levels. Lightning surged from the clouds, and the ground erupted as Valkarion manipulated the elements in chaos.

But it didn’t matter.

Ozeroth’s aura crushed it all, snuffing it out like candles in a storm.

His eyes had gone serious now, and he wasn’t laughing anymore.

He kept hammering the Dragon’s head, over and over, until its massive body began shrinking, shrinking, reverting to its humanoid form, battered, bloodied, utterly broken.

His head was cracked, blood pouring from his mouth and skull. He looked up at Ozeroth, eyes trembling.

“W–Who… who are you?”

Ozeroth stared down coldly.

“In your next life, learn to listen well.”

He raised his foot.

“I am Ozeroth.”

And then he brought it down, crushing the Dragon Paragon’s skull beneath his heel. Blood, bone, and brain matter exploded outward, painting the battlefield in gore.

Ozeroth’s eyes flickered.

From a distance, Jezeneth burst from the earth, eyes burning, body soaring into the sky, her blood-red energy now towering, overwhelming.

Ozeroth’s smirk returned.

He brandished his hammers.

And then he shot forward.

…

But the Dragon Paragon and Jezeneth weren’t the only ones facing their worst nightmare.

If they had a choice, if they could control it, this was the last place Azrakan and Eletantron would ever want to be.

Because Atticus’s current form… was the complete bane of the Dimensari.

The fusion of four elements had birthed a new energy, an energy capable of erasing anything with form from existence. It hadn’t worked on Xal’zereth, whose power relied solely on pure, essenceless mana, but space was a different story entirely.

Space had form. Even if abstract, it existed.

And that was all Atticus’s fusion energy needed.

Barriers upon spatial barriers formed, dimension after dimension layered and twisted, worlds within worlds coiled to trap him, but Atticus tore through everything.

Piece by piece, every creation, every technique, every dimension, erased.

Unmade.

Eletantron and Azrakan fought desperately, summoning alternate versions of themselves. Each one unleashed torrents of spatial shards, blades, beams, waves, but nothing worked.

He had the fusion energy.

He had the exosuit, siphoning power and fueling his every movement.

He had his katana, a weapon that moved with him like thought, tearing through every clone, every barrier, every world.

One swing, three Eletantrons vanished.

Another, an Azrakan tried to fold the battlefield, only to be erased mid-cast.

Regardless, they were Dimensari, and if there was one thing their kind could do better than anyone else… it was escaping.

No matter how much Atticus overwhelmed them, no matter how much he cut, erased, and decimated, he still couldn’t stop them from slipping away.

Azrakan and Eletantron reappeared far from Atticus, just as a colossal explosion rocked the space they had occupied moments before.

Their gazes met, a weary exchange that had repeated itself far too many times since the battle began.

Their breathing came ragged, chests heaving, hearts pounding like war drums. Sweat streaked their faces, and both looked like they were straining to survive… or taking a particularly agonizing shit.

“What do we do?” Azrakan asked. But Eletantron had no answer.

He turned forward, eyes locking on Atticus, who now hovered calmly in the air, katana in hand, like a storm that was cloaked in serenity.

But the killing intent in the air was suffocating, pressing down like an invisible mountain.

Eletantron’s hand clenched.

He didn’t know what to do.

And that thought burned through him.

The humiliation…

His eyes sharpened.

“Focus on taking Carius,” he said to Azrakan telepathically.

Their eyes clashed once more with Atticus’s…

And then they all moved.

Atticus vanished from their vision.

Their eyes widened instinctively, and then they disappeared too, space twisting as all three figures clashed mid-air in a thunderous boom.

Eletantron and Azrakan moved in tandem, launching synchronized attacks designed to lure Atticus away from where Carius’s cocoon was being held.

Flashes of spatial rifts, mirror traps, compressed dimension bombs, all flared in rapid succession, keeping Atticus on his toes.

Eletantron evaded a burst of fused elemental energy and reappeared in the distance, only to feel it again: Atticus on him, katana flashing behind his back.

“Now!” he cried telepathically.

Azrakan’s eyes sharpened, and then he vanished, appearing near the cocoon, eyes blazing.

‘Carius!’ he sent a telepathic message, hand reaching toward the cocoon.

But then, danger exploded in his nerves like lightning.

He turned sharply, his eyes landing on what he feared most.

Atticus.

A katana engulfed in black-crimson energy, descending with the weight of the world behind it.

At the same time, the Atticus behind Eletantron dispersed into wind.

“An echo!” they both realized in horror.

He had played them.

Azrakan’s eyes locked on the falling blade, and intense dread anchored him in place.

He could still escape. He could disappear now.

But Atticus had predicted that too.

Carius was directly behind Azrakan, suspended in place by Atticus’s energy.

If Azrakan escaped… Carius would die.

He froze, teeth gritting, eyes blazing.

His mind firmed, and then he created shield upon shield, wrapping space, layering defenses, bending reality, distorting dimension, forming barriers of pure spatial compression and kinetic force in front of him.

“NO!” Eletantron screamed from afar. But it was too late.

Atticus’s katana met the defense… and carved through everything.

One by one, barriers crumbled, collapsed, disintegrated into nothing.

The blade cleaved through Azrakan, slicing him in two clean halves.

Blood, bone, and gore burst out, painting the space around him in crimson arcs as his upper body slipped downward, expression frozen in disbelief.

The silence that followed was hard to describe.

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