The city was silent, its streets empty as Insanity walked alone through the eerie calm. He could feel the air thinning, a strange sensation that set his nerves on edge. He glanced around, alert for any sign of danger. Then, his gaze drifted upward, catching sight of three figures standing atop the tallest building, looming like dark silhouettes against the sky. At the center was Judas, looking down on him with a twisted smile.

“Welcome to the battlefield, Insanity!” Judas called out, his voice laced with a chilling blend of excitement and malice.

Insanity reached to summon his axe, but before he could react, he felt a horrifying sensation—his arm had vanished, severed from his body in an instant. His mind raced, grappling with the shock. He hadn’t even seen Judas move. Blood poured from the wound as he tried to heal it, only to find his abilities somehow muted. He attempted to use his pain manipulation to ease the damage, but it did nothing.

From his perch above, Judas smirked. “Don’t bother,” he said, his tone mocking. “I have the ability to negate any type of defense or healing ability. My slashes aren’t just one-dimensional—they cut right through everything.”

Insanity’s heart sank as he realized just how outmatched he was. Judas called to his allies, gesturing towards Insanity with a dismissive wave. “Ashlyn, Taleb—go find the others and kill them. We don’t need him interfering.”

Ashlyn, one of Judas’s allies, rolled her eyes in annoyance. “For the last time, it’s *Ashlyn*, not Ash,” she corrected.

Judas barely acknowledged her, waving her off. “Just go.”

As Ashlyn and Taleb vanished into the city, Insanity tried to pursue them, only for a massive slash, easily a fifth of the city in size, to appear in his path. The ground trembled beneath its weight, and Insanity staggered back, realizing just how ruthless Judas’s power truly was.

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“You won’t get past me,” Judas taunted. “If I were you, I’d give up now.”

Insanity’s anger boiled over, and he activated his Output Awakening, his aura flaring with power. Judas scoffed, clearly unimpressed.

“Are you finally going to take this seriously?” Judas sneered.

Before Insanity could respond, a voice echoed beside him, breaking his focus. He turned to see Calypso, her expression cool yet questioning.

“Need some help, Insanity?” she asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re struggling with a kid like this?”

Judas’s expression twisted with fury. “*Kid*? I’m a century-old being, handpicked by M!” he snarled, his pride bruised.

Insanity felt a chill. *M… could it be?* He pieced it together, realizing the weight of who Judas was connected to.

Without hesitation, Insanity summoned his awakened axe, its energy radiating as he prepared for the fight ahead. Calypso took her stance beside him, her presence a reassuring force in the face of Judas’s overwhelming power.

“We’ll defeat you,” Insanity declared, his voice firm.

Judas laughed, as if amused by the challenge. “Oh, this is almost cute. Are you two some kind of love story?” His laughter echoed as he unleashed a torrent of slashes in their direction, forcing Insanity and Calypso to dodge. They barely managed to evade the lethal blades as they carved through the air, slicing through the cityscape like a hurricane of destruction.

Across the city, two other figures felt the tremor of the battle unfold. Auforus, who was keeping watch over Insanity’s house to protect and heal the girls, sensed the violent aura radiating through the streets. His brow furrowed, but he held his ground, focusing on keeping the girls safe.

Meanwhile, Moxie had been occupied elsewhere, tossing a bag of scraps into the trash. When he glanced down, he noticed the contents—remains of Wrath, remnants of a brutal past. The sight sent a shiver down his spine, reminding him of the battles fought and the dangers lurking still.

The stage was set, each member of Moxie’s group spread across the battlefield, preparing to face a new threat unlike any they’d encountered before. Judas and his avatars were not just enemies—they were a reckoning. And as the forces converged, a sense of dread filled the air, as if the entire city itself held its breath, waiting for the clash that would decide its fate.