"We have quite the fight ahead of us," I said to Azrael, my mind already racing with strategies to take down Armando. Strength alone wouldn't cut it—not at my current level. Rushing in blind was suicide. I needed battle tactics, more training, and a deeper understanding of my enemy.
The rest of the week passed without incident. Azrael and I kept grinding—training, refining tactics, and building that unspoken bond only forged in battle. We used shadows, I had merged for opponents. They weren't as formidable or smart as Armando, but they made good practice.
Outside our bubble, the world kept rotting. Millions more died. By week's end, over three billion were either ill or dead. And with every death, I felt my power rising alongside my shadows.
Global chaos reigned. Governments collapsed as leaders dropped like flies. Law and order? Gone. Fear ruled.
Humanity shed its mask. People stopped pretending to be civilized. They tore through one another for survival, chasing their desires without shame or hesitation. The only law left was self-interest, and they'd crush anyone in their way to protect it.
Theft.
Rape.
Murder.
Drugs.
Every twisted human desire clawed its way to the surface. And once unleashed, they only hungered for more.
"Only death awaits these people," I muttered, watching the world unravel through the eyes of my shadows.
"They are very... susceptible," Azrael noted beside me.
I turned to him, surprised. He rarely spoke unless prompted. The fact that he offered an opinion on his own made me smile.
"Indeed," I said, eyes returning to the chaos. "It's almost laughable that civilization lasted this long. All it ever took was a gentle nudge to expose the truth. It may take time before I can reap souls at this scale again, but humans are like cockroaches. They'll crawl back from the brink… and when they do, I'll be waiting."
One week had passed since my training with Azrael began.
We progressed rapidly. New techniques, formations, and strategies came effortlessly. My mind's capacity had expanded. I could split my thoughts and have each thought do individual tasks. However, the more I split my thoughts, the less complicated the tasks became. So far, I could only split my thoughts into 3 without sacrificing the complexity of the task.
Fighting Azrael, keeping an eye on the world, and developing strategies all at the same time became natural. I could also scan the entire human race with terrifying efficiency, analyzing one life, their lifespan, and ways they are likely to die at a time so fast, it felt like I was observing them all simultaneously. These were simple tasks and did not take much concentration.
Everything within my body was improving.
"Grayson, I've completed the tasks you assigned," the tailed Lilith announced as she emerged from a dark cloud.
"Good. And Axelia?" I asked.
"She's already briefed and in position," she replied.
"Perfect. I won't be able to remain on Earth much longer… No reason to delay this any longer." I stepped forward. "We leave now."
Without another word, I shifted into my towering 8-foot Reaper form and summoned a swirling gate of shadow.
"Let's go kill a Reaper," I said, voice low and sharp, stepping into the dark with Lilith and Azrael at my side.
In an instant, we were transported thousands of light-years away, suspended above a storm-wracked planet that churned with violent energy.
Before descending, a thought struck me.
"Tailed Lilith," I said, glancing back at her, "why didn't you fight the last time we came here? I could've died."
"I'm not built for battle," she said with a dismissive wave, "and I just got my nails done. So don't even think about dragging me into a fight with that thing."
I shrugged it off, knowing I probably may not need her. I didn't know how strong the tailed Lilith was, but I suspected she was stronger than she let on and had other reasons not to fight.
With that, Azrael and I flew downward, breaching the storm clouds. We descended like meteors, crashing into the barren wasteland below. No sunrays ever reached this place—its skies forever choked by storms, its lands dull and lifeless. A fitting battleground.
This scenerie stretched endlessly—dry, cracked, and utterly lifeless. No hills. No mountains. Just an empty void beneath a storm-dark sky.
'Is there really life on this planet?' I wondered.
Before the thought could even settle, a bolt of purple lightning split the sky—and with it came Armando, crashing down like divine judgment.
He stood a kilometer away, yet when he spoke, his voice boomed as though he were right beside us.
"You dare return, Reaper? After the beating I gave you last time?" His tone was cold, tinged with mockery. "You're either brave... or stupid. Either way, you die today!"
As he conjured his rods of crackling lightning, he shot toward us, erasing the distance in mere seconds. I reacted instinctively, my scythe materializing in my hands as Azrael summoned his massive greatsword.
Armando struck first, slamming all four of his rods down on me like a hammer. I blocked the blow with my scythe. The impact was intense—jarring—but not as overwhelming as before.
Azrael didn't hesitate. He swept his greatsword toward Armando's midsection, aiming to cleave him in two. But Armando was faster than expected. He intercepted the slash with two of his rods, parrying the blow and shifting back, not allowing himself to be cornered.
"You've both gotten stronger since last time... good," Armando said, a manic grin spreading across his face. "Come on then—entertain me more!"
He leapt back, narrowly dodging our follow-up strikes, then gestured mockingly for us to continue the assault.
'His instincts are razor sharp! And with those extra arms, he can attack and defend perfectly. We need to cripple his limbs—then we strike for the kill,' I told Azrael telepathically.
He nodded, and without a word, we both dropped our weapons.
In a flash, we vanished into motion, blurring into a synchronized dash, circling Armando at breakneck speed. A cloud of dust spiraled into the air, partially masking us from view.
But I knew the truth, 'Even blinded, his senses are still leagues above ours.' I relayed my thoughts to Azrael, urging him to be careful.
Armando chuckled darkly. "How brave. I'll match your boldness." He dropped his weapons as well.
'He's underestimating us. Good,' I thought.
Anyone with an extra pair of arms might think they held the advantage in close combat. Armando believes he has seen the extent of our strength, but this wasn't the same fight, and we weren't the same duo.
Azrael and I charged in, unarmed. We closed the distance instantly, striking in perfect unison. Each blow a combination of precise martial arts, flowing from one form to the next as we hit him from every angle.
Our attacks came in relentless waves, designed to shift his focus—one strike drawing his attention away from the next.
Armando, to his credit, blocked almost every blow. His four arms moved like a blur, parrying, countering, adapting. Still, we could feel it: the pressure was getting to him.
We were finally suppressing him.
When Azrael went low, I went high; when he moved left, I moved right. We were in perfect sync—like two limbs of the same body. The grin on Armando's face slowly faded, replaced by a flicker of worry.
As the fight wore on, he began to miss more and more of our strikes.
Suddenly, without warning, Armando summoned a barrage of purple lightning that exploded all around him like a storm unleashed. Azrael and I retreated instantly, flashing a dozen meters back—but not before the lightning clipped us both.
Azrael took a glancing blow to the shoulder, a chunk of his armor blasted clean off. He winced, but he wasn't out of the fight.
'We need to weaken that lightning,' I thought, glancing at Azrael. He caught my meaning and nodded.
I surged forward, feinting a full-force punch. Armando instinctively raised two of his arms to block the attack.
'Now!'
A gate of dark cloud swirled open beneath Azrael's feet. In a blink, it sucked him in—then spat him out right behind Armando. With ruthless timing, Azrael drove his foot into the back of Armando's head, snapping his body forward.
His face went crashing to the ground. As his body bounced off the ground, I appeared in front of him, grabbed his face, and slammed his head backward into the ground. The impact sent tremors through the ground. Cracks rippled outward like a spiderweb from the point of contact.
While he was down, I unleashed a torrent of my dark cloud into him. It surged through his eyes, nostrils, and mouth—flooding his body from the inside. The darkness coiled through his bones like venom, eating away at his strength and tearing into his source. The source was a reaper's soul.
Armando screamed in agony as the dark cloud ravaged him from within. Meanwhile, Azrael summoned his greatsword and moved in, aiming to sever at least two of Armando's arms while I pinned him down.
But his durability was inhuman. Azrael struck over and over, but only left shallow marks. Each blow rang out like a drum of war as he struggled to cut deeper and deeper. This only lasted a couple of breaths. Armando bellowed in fury, his roar echoing like a crashing storm.
Then—BOOM!
A massive bolt of purple lightning slammed down from the heavens, targeting the very ground he lay on.
I reacted instantly, summoning a gate behind us. It pulled Azrael and me through just in time, teleporting us over fifty meters away from the blast.
Armando slowly came out of the crater he had just made, staggering with two of his hands hanging off their shoulder. Purple lightning danced violently across his body and flickered within his eyes like living fire. His body seemed to merge with the lightning as the lightning went through him unimpeded.
He raised what remained of his arms and summoned two of his rods. They streaked toward him like magnetized missiles. As soon as they slammed into his grasp, a deeper, more ancient energy wrapped around them—raw, crackling power that pulsed with vengeance.
He stood there, heaving, his breath ragged. His body was battered, barely holding together. And yet… the fire in his eyes refused to die. It only burned hotter, brighter—consumed by hatred and a thirst for vengeance.
The expression on his face was so fierce, it felt like it could incinerate a man's soul.
With a voice that thundered with rage and prophecy, Armando snarled,
"You insects dare to come to my world and do as you please? You think you can waltz in and try to kill me?
ME?!
I am ARMANDO! Reaper of Astrapi! You will pay—one-limb-at-a-time!" Armando declared, emphasizing his final words.