The chapter opens with Michael barely evading Moxie’s relentless onslaught, each swipe of his claws cutting through the air with terrifying speed. His once-divine composure shattered, Michael was no longer the mighty archangel—he was prey, running from a hunter far beyond his understanding. Moxie’s eyes, now vacant and hollow, locked onto Insanity as if he were the next meal.

Insanity narrowly avoided Moxie’s charge, sidestepping just in time as Moxie barreled past him. For a brief moment, Insanity considered attacking, but an instinct held him back. He glanced at the crumbling remains of the angels they had killed earlier. Their bodies, now turning to dust, served as a grim reminder. If he had struck Moxie, he would have lost much more than just the fight—he would’ve lost a limb, or worse, his life.

Michael, gathering what strength he had left, attempted to use another gravity manipulation ability, hoping to pin Moxie down. But before the spell could fully take hold, Moxie roared in fury, closing the gap between them in an instant. With a brutal swipe, Moxie ripped Michael's left arm clean off. Blood sprayed across the battlefield as Michael screamed in agony, flapping his wings desperately to get away.

Panic surged through the archangel’s veins. His thoughts were consumed by fear—fear of the unknown, fear of death. What he faced now was no ordinary opponent. It was something beyond heaven’s reach, beyond any divine wrath he had ever witnessed.

As Michael fled, Insanity launched himself into the air, grinning with excitement despite the carnage. With a swift kick, he sent Michael plummeting back to the ground, crashing into the dirt below. The three warriors resumed their chaotic dance, each move more desperate than the last.

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But Michael, now missing an arm and drained of energy, was beginning to falter. He dropped his sword, unable to hold it any longer, and summoned what little light magic he had left. Bright beams of divine energy shot forth, but Moxie, in his monstrous form, was unfazed. With a single, devastating strike, Moxie’s claws tore into Michael’s chest, shredding through his armor and leaving him on the verge of death.

Gasping for breath, Michael’s body convulsed in shock. His light was dimming, his life slipping away, but Moxie’s attention had shifted. The predator’s gaze turned once again to Insanity, now his only remaining target.

Insanity, ever the thrill-seeker, swung his axe in wide arcs, sending sharp blasts of energy through the air toward Moxie. But none of it mattered. Moxie’s form was so overwhelming that the attacks barely scratched him. Insanity’s grin faded for the first time, replaced by a hint of dread.

Michael, using the last of his strength, stood on shaky legs. His eyes, once full of divine fire, were now dull and lifeless. He looked around at the battlefield—his fallen comrades, his own broken body, and the monstrous form of Moxie. With a final scream, Michael begged for mercy, hoping for a reprieve that would never come.

Moxie moved with terrifying precision, appearing behind the archangel in an instant. Michael didn’t have time to react. In a grotesque display of power, Moxie’s jaws clamped down on Michael’s upper body, tearing it clean off in one savage bite.

Insanity, frozen in place, watched in horror as Moxie spat out the remains of Michael’s body, the archangel’s divine blood dripping from his mouth. Sweat poured down Insanity’s face as he came to a chilling realization.

This wasn’t just a fight anymore. It was survival against an unstoppable force—one that was no longer Moxie.

And now, Insanity stood alone, staring into the face of pure, unrelenting death.