Orion kept his humanoid form with dragon-like features: two horns protruding from his forehead, scales faintly scattered across his body, and eyes that flashed electric blue, like lightning trapped behind glass. His teeth had sharpened into fangs, and his nails had morphed into talons. Though he appeared human, most of his dragonic power was still contained within him, compressed into his smaller frame.

  As Orion sprinted at full speed toward Atlas, lightning crackled from his body, spreading across the crater-turned-battlefield. When he leapt, the electricity lifted him into the air, propelling him high above the ground. His fists glowed with arcs of energy crackling around them, and as he began his descent toward Atlas, chains of lightning from the storm above struck his hands. He fell like a meteor, trailing bolts of electricity. Atlas summoned a pair of red wings and launched himself backward, narrowly escaping as Orion crashed into the ground.

  The impact shattered the earth, sending debris flying and a cloud of dustrising into the air. Through the haze, Orion emerged. His Blackrock armor, once dark as the night sky, now blazed with a blue glow as lightning coiled around his arms, waist, and legs. Bolts of lightning periodically struck the surrounding ground—and even struck him directly—but instead of harm, each strike seemed to fill him with more power.

  “Come on down, Crimson Blade!” Orion taunted, glaring up at Atlas, who hovered far above the electrified ground. “It’s no fun while you float around like some fairy! Come down and fight me like the avian legends claim you can!”

  “You’re a dragon, aren’t you? Then transform into your true form and give me a real challenge!” Atlas shouted back, his voice defiant.

  “If I did, the battle would be over before it began,” Orion replied with a confident smirk, clearly underestimating the opponent before him. “But it doesn’t matter—ground, sky, the Abyss, or Elyria itself—you cannot defeat me, Atlas.”

  With those words, Orion gathered the electricity swirling in his palms until two massive bolts of lightning struck down from the stormy clouds above. Effortlessly, he caught them with his bare hands, wielding them like whips. With a powerful swing of his arms, he struck the ground, the force of it propelling him into the air, hurtling straight toward the airborne Atlas.

  Before Atlas could react, Orion was already behind him, his movements a blur of speed. With a powerful sweep of his arms, he unleashed the lightning he held, coiling the crackling bolts around Atlas, pinning his wings tight. Though the lightning itself did not seem to harm Atlas—his crimson armor shielding him from its searing energy—it didn’t matter. Atlas found himself trapped and immobilized, and Orion seized the moment with ruthless precision.

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  As they plummeted from the sky, just before hitting the ground, Orion yanked the lightning whips back, pulling Atlas along with a violent jerk. Then, with a sudden reversal, he swung the whips forward, slamming Atlas into the earth with bone-jarring force. The impact caused the crater to widen further, sending shockwaves across the ground and reducing the surrounding landscape to rubble. Thankfully, no one was near enough to be caught in the devastation.

  Atlas, now half-buried in the shattered earth, lost consciousness for just a moment. When he came to, he saw a nightmare made of flesh—Orion grinning wickedly, his sharp fangs gleaming, his electric blue eyes blazing with a fierce bloodlust.

  “Rise and shine, Atlas!” Orion taunted, standing over him. He grabbed Atlas by the collar and started pummeling his face with bare knuckles, striking like a feral beast.

  Blood soon soaked the muddy ground beneath them as each of Orion’s blows pushed Atlas in and out of consciousness. His face was a ruin of bruises and cuts, bones shattered, almost unrecognizable beneath the blood and swelling. Never in his life had Atlas suffered such a brutal beating. Why was it happening now? No matter how powerful Orion was, Atlas was still the mightiest warrior Elyria had ever known. So why was he losing so utterly?

  “You disappoint me, Crimson Blade,” Orion muttered, glancing down at the broken man before turning his back and walking away.

  “Too noble to kill a wounded pup, are you?” Atlas spat through bloodied lips, his voice a low rasp.

  “You think death will grant you peace?” Orion asked, not turning around. “You think death is a mercy? It robs you of everything you once took for granted—your choices, your chances of atoning for past sins. It strips you of your opportunities to fight, to change. In the end, it leaves you with nothing but an eternal silence, a silence that offers no second chances. Is that truly what you seek?”

  Atlas remained silent, either unwilling or too afraid to respond. Orion continued, his voice steady and unwavering.

  “Live or die; it makes no difference to me. But do not forsake the life of the son of the woman you loved, or perhaps still love. More importantly, do not forsake who you are simply because it is hard to carry on. You have a chance here, a chance to do something meaningful with your miserable life. A chance to find peace with your old sins, and perhaps, to find a new beginning. Be a good man, Atlas.”

  As Atlas lay there in the shattered earth, bruised and bloodied, thoughts flooded his mind as vivid as the fragments of his long-buried past. A face appeared in his memory, clear as day—the woman he had loved. Her pale skin, the soft touch of her hand on his cheek, her golden hair dancing in the wind, her eyes like amber, filled with sadness yet brimming with hope—a hope she had placed on his already burdened shoulders. Her lips trembled on the brink of tears, but she found words that Atlas had tried to forget for so long: “Take care of him, will you?”

  “Orion?” Another voice suddenly cut through the air—Valerian, shouting down from above the crater.