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Lennon 'Bladed Monster' Hull

With my feet dug into the earth, I slide away from an impact with Kaisen, every bone in my body rattling to its cores. My Dominion itself vibrates in pain as the arms that hold Dia tremble in agony. Two lines carved into dirt connect the two of us more intimately than any other coupling possible.

But we are not alone. To my right, Kaisen's left, another God stands, furious in his liquid nature. Demonsbane is drawn against both Kaisen and me in equal amounts.

"Kaisen! What are you doing? Help me kill this one! He's a threat! Mother could die because of this! Do you not understand!?"

My rival, my twin from a thousand years in the past with a different race and upbringing, even a different choice of weapon, grins wickedly from ear to ear. Placing his scythe on his shoulder, he raises his nose toward Manoga with a sneer.

"Mother told me to fight to my heart's content. So I shall. It is not my fault she has such a hold over you and not me. We are near-equals. I am not her slave but an actual child. And this one... he deserves my respect and my attention. Do you know how rare another Godshaper is? Two. Of all the planes, we've only ever seen two. He and I."

I take a breath while they bicker, letting the air drift through me as the discarded Perfection seeks my blood once more. I ignore the Concept. It's what Dia is based on, but it's not enough. It never is.

Perfection is not enough for her. But then... what is? I do not know. I've learned much from copying Manoga's techniques, but I've not been led to any conclusion.

Instead of fighting when I am not recovered, I simply listen as my mind wanders.

"Kaisen! Come on! Put aside your childish desires! This is bigger than you! Than me! Than him! This is Mother's time to come back! Do you want to be sealed for another millennium!? Or to be slain!? We could rule the universe! Maybe more! Who knows what lies at the fringes of reality!"

The argument is sound for Manoga. It really is. If I were in Kaisen's place, I wouldn't be swayed, but I'd still understand that he's right. This craving for battle Kaisen and I share is unnatural, and it often leads to suffering for many others and ourselves.

But...

"This is not childish. This is the meaning of strength. I do not care for the universe or whatever might lie beyond the horizon of light. I care only for the man with a blade before me right here and right now. The blood that drips down my forehead is more meaningful than the millennium of silence."

We are the same. My formless fingers tighten upon the handle of my Claymore, my blooming Godshape, as we face each other. Manoga groans in fury, wiping his face with both his swords still in his hands.

"Fine, you ape. I'll leave you to your stupid fight and clean up the leftovers should you fail."

Manoga steps backward as if to watch our battle simply, and I already know what Kaisen will say. His face lights up with fervor as his pale face whips around to face the God of Rivers.

"No, you will not. You will join us, as I cannot trust you to respect his win should he prevail."

I smile as the battle finally sets into the place I wanted it to be. It had been a three-way battle so far, but Manoga and Kaisen partially attempted to stay away, managing to get in each other's ways but not really hurting one another.

Now, though... things are a little different. I hardly survived our first bout, not to mention the second that has lasted the past four hours. The blood within my body continues to pump as excitement washes through me.

A battle between equals. Precisely what I have always wanted.

I squint my eyes, observing the two closely as Manoga can only sigh and wield his blades before him. Who will make the first move?

"Fine, you runt. I'll show you how things are done."

The Pointed Alluvion steps up front and displays himself as the prime contender, his liquid body warbling all over. But he isn't the first striker.

That belongs to Kaisen.

The ancient Nahullo, aged in stature but not as deficient as Louis Fern due to his race's longer lifespan, speeds directly for me. His kick upon the earth is so quick that I can hardly see it, the light seemingly struggling to follow.

Lines of ash cloak his scythe while he appears in front of me, some skill fostering the unbelievable swiftness. I raise Dia just in time to deflect most of the momentum and power, forced to bear all the might of my Dominion to do so.

The strength in the slash of his scythe glides off my steel and enters the earth beside me. A terrible rumble predates the crack in the earth that goes so deep I cannot see the bottom.

I meet Kaisen's eyes as he flips his weapon around, the tip already headed for the spot between my eyes. Twisting my body, I grind my boots against the stone beneath us and stumble back with the slightest moment of time to deflect another strike.

Barely. That is the word that describes my survival. Again and again, Kaisen strikes, using the full force of his millennium of might against me. War itself comes for my soul as ashes grow on his skin, the white skin turning darker with each passing second.

A second Sirza!? No. It... it is a repurposed one. War Ends With Ashes.

The avatar of soot and ember that he fought me with last time cloaks his physical body like armor, no longer acting as that giant statue. He grows only a few more inches in height, but twice the lethality emerges from the embers upon him.

Non-stop, his scythe comes for my life. Left, right, up, down, behind, in front, even through the ground, he attacks from all directions.

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I use everything. Every second of training I've ever endured, each moment I've come close to death, and all those enemies I've conquered, it all coalesces into this very moment.

Dia doesn't stop moving, not for an instant. All that I can hear is the blood within my own body as we move so fast in our clashes that the air cannot keep up. That is until Kaisen suddenly disengages, slashing right for Manoga.

The God of Rivers, sitting on the side moments ago, screams in frustration but manages to divert the ambush. Kaisen howls at his companion despite his own attack.

"Stop playing the coward!"

I don't take the moment to breathe. I respect Kaisen's heart and dive into the bloody war. Manoga strikes back at Kaisen, giving the God of War precisely what he is asking for. I do the same.

We both unleash our Claymores against his scythe and still, the Nahullo deflects it all masterfully. I always thought it was odd how much people relied on Concepts, on Ether, and on their Sigils when the greatest weapons we possess are our weapons and our bodies.

I had also thought that I was the only one capable of unveiling the true potential of such a path. It would appear... I am lacking. That just means I must become more and shed away any semblance of the human I was once. I must become more.

Already, I am nothing like the Lennon who held a sword for the very first time. My flesh is impervious to common bullets, while my every move bears the potential to warp air. We are different people, he and I, but we are still the same creature.

If I am to win this... I'll have to become a God, right? I'll have to find a Concept with only seconds left on the clock. I'll have to abandon it all. Kaisen notices my hesitation and pounces while I backpedal.

The ancient Nahullo, aged but decisive, lunges at me with a speed that defies perception. His scythe blurs through the air, lines of ash trailing behind it.

I meet his attack head-on, Dia rising to intercept the deadly arc just as before. The impact jars my entire body, but I hold firm, channeling my Dominion to bolster my strength as I attempt to diver the force again. Unfortunately, Kaisen learns as swiftly as I do.

His scythe rotates on his wrist, negating my deflect as my Claymore is sent toward the ground. Then, the gleaming steel comes for my neck.

The grin on War's face is what I must hold when I've secured a kill. What am I doing? Thinking during a battle? This isn't me. I've grown soft after reaching this height.

I thought that my strength was enough. I should know better. There is always another mountain to climb. There is always another monster to slay. There is always another triumph to claim.

There is always strength to be found when one feels powerless.

The bottom of Dia's handle catches the tip of Kaisen's blade as we lock eyes beyond the clash. The sky shakes, and the earth rumbles as spiderwebs formed of cracking stone surround us in every direction, continuing for miles.

My hands shudder under the weight of War, barely able to withstand Kaisen's might at such an odd angle.

"Unpredictable. I like it. Just like me."

The weapon against mine is yanked back as Kaisen contorts around to slash Manoga, nearly obtaining the God's left arm. An inch further, and he'd have severed Demonsbane from its current owner.

I take War's compliment in stride, stepping forward as something within me tingles. It's at the core, similar to how Perfection came to be, but it is different. It's... difficult to describe. Still, I have no time to ponder anything else but the battle.

Kaisen's strikes are relentless, coming from every direction with an intensity that leaves no room for error. There is not a fraction of a second where I can think inwardly.

Each swing of his scythe is met with a deflection from Dia, but it takes everything I have to keep up. His movements are an amalgamation of all that War is: precise but swift, flowing yet unyielding.

But Kaisen is not the only threat. Manoga moves in, his blades flashing as he joins the fray. His blades whirl around me, forcing me to split my attention between the two, which is only made worse by the Demonsbane in his grasp.

I have to look out for its terrible might. I learned long ago from Kate the things it was capable of. I do not wish to be put down by such a sword.

Nevertheless, Kaisen and Manoga clash with each other as well, and their differing fighting styles create a show for me to watch and learn from. Kaisen's brute strength and relentless assault that grows more pointed every time contrast sharply with Manoga's fluid and agile strikes.

The battlefield becomes a blur of motion that is nearly impossible to follow. I duck under a swing from Manoga, feeling the rush of air as his blade narrowly misses my head. Kaisen's scythe comes from the side, and I twist just in time to parry it, the force of the blow sending vibrations up my arms as I spin away, my heels hardly contacting the ground. Those very same heels bounce off the dirt for several feet before I finally make a landing.

For a split second, I am allowed a breath to recover, blood pooling at my feet from wounds I cannot remember as I'm too focused to tell when they occur. I wait no extra time than I am allotted, already striking out toward Kaisen as I pile together my Dominion atop Dia's edge.

The ground beneath us trembles with the force of our battle, the air thick with the scent of blood and the acrid tang of Ether. I inhale all the aspects of battle, even as I near my exhaustion. My muscles are long tired, and my soul aches for relief. Nevertheless, Dia continues her dance on the edge of death.

But I thrive in this chaos. My mind sharpens, and my body moves with a grace born of necessity. I draw on every lesson and every experience, pushing myself beyond my limits. Dia becomes more than an extension of my will, moving with a speed and precision that matches my intent before I even know it. She moves before I ask and before it is even needed.

No, it is more than that. I am moving with her. My feet, my arms, and my whole body shift with a rhythm inescapable to my mind. With every slash, I grove faster. Stronger. More unstoppable. Less human.

Kaisen and Manoga are relentless, but so am I. We are evenly matched, perhaps not in raw power or skill, but in totality. They have both over me, yet... I possess something they do not. And in this crucible, more fiery than any other, I find a new understanding, a deeper connection to the Concepts of my enemies.

I learn from them, adapt to their tactics, and grow stronger with each passing second. I find it. My Concept. Or... my lack of one, for I do not need only one pillar toward eternity, toward power.

There is no lighthouse to guide my way. Years ago, I turned away from the radiance, and instead, I shall now find the stars of the sky to mark my trail. And like those stars in the sky, why limit myself to only one? That is foolish. That is being careful with oneself. That is... taking the easy way out.

Lennon Hull holds no quarter, against himself or the world.

That which is within my chest is not a new power or Concept. It is simply understanding. Perfection meets Momentum as I ride Manoga's assault, shifting as he does, pivoting when he sees to, and striking when he finds the moment.

I mirror him, but that is not all. The mirror is more than just a reflection. It is its own being, built upon a trove of experience and practice.

With just my sole Dia, I contort Manoga's watery blade to the side while I rotate my body, transferring all the strength shared between us to smack his other hand with her hilt. Demonsbane falls to the ground, but the Claymore is not the 1st Lumen for no reason.

Dark tethers tie it back to the God, already hauling it back to his hands, yet it is not fast enough. Dia's edge separates Manoga's head from his shoulders before I slam into his body with my boot. His body falls to the ground while his head flies into the sky.

I look at it, knowing this is my opportunity to kill him, but it's not enough. A scythe is headed for me, meaning I'd take a lethal wound in exchange.

So, instead, I backstep, and Kaisen utterly misses, with another crevasse born into the landscape. He looks at me in awe while Darklight reties Manoga's head to his body. The God of Rivers shivers with terror and retreats slightly.

"You..."

I have little time to answer their question as a tremor runs through Dia. I look down at my blade in horror as cracks run along her steel. Immediately, I can feel the dire injury.

Two Concepts, vying for supremacy within her metal. Perfection and Momentum. I've offloaded all the danger onto her, my sweet beauty.

The pain I feel as she shatters is indescribable. It stabs into my soul and rips out something that goes to my very core. Falling to a knee, one hand goes to my chest as motes of pale luminance surround me from her remnants.

Manoga steps forward, likely to end me, but Kaisen stops him.

"We do not kill a man once they have surrendered, do we?"

A grim laugh leaves my throat as Manoga immediately argues with the Nahullo, not taking any of his bullshit.

"Shut up. You and I both know he's the last human to surrender. Everyone in the world could be dead, and he'd still pick up that blade for no reason other than that he likes the slick of the blood on it."

I listen to them as they continue to argue, Manoga already swinging back at Kaisen while I stay kneeling. She's broken, shattered.

Yet... A hand falls onto my shoulder while my brain and soul teeter on that finality. I've lost a lot of blood, but that doesn't matter. This wound... it's worse than the others. It's beyond just touching my soul. This is not something that will ever heal. And still... my eyes water as a voice I had thought I lost reappears.

"What are you doing on the ground? Get up, soldier. You've got a job to do."

Whether it's pure hallucination or the fragments of the Concepts reaching out into reality, I do not know. But the familiar hand of Edmund tightens on my bloody figure. I attempt to stand, his words are a greater shot of motivation than any other, but... I cannot. My legs do not move. My soul has lost its connection with my body. And still...

"Lennon. You were always my favorite. A bundle of rage inside a young man too naive to wield it. I loved helping you learn your way. You always gave me your best no matter how much you complained. You were weak then, but now... You can do anything. You're the strongest human in the world. Only you have kept yourself through it all. And for that, I am proud. Just pick up the damn sword. Your best. It squanders all others. Just give me your best one last time. Because, if you do, that bitch won't stand a chance. No one will."

The tendons in my hand twitch as Manoga steps toward me, distracted once more by Kaisen. Unfortunately, War cannot stop Momentum from killing a powerless creature such as I. Kaisen gave me only a few short seconds. But it was enough. I'll give him precisely what he desires: a war.

Those tendons clasp together around a new blade. It exists yet it doesn't as another Dia forms. Then, a second.

Perfection and Momentum. One Dia for each Concept.

The former rests in my hands while the latter floats beside me, patient for its time. The two Gods turn to face me, one with a smile and another with abject horror across his fluid skull. And then... that hand leaves my shoulder for the final time as I sense the Concepts wash away the madness. But not without one last shot of meaning.

"Give 'em Hell, boy."