Each clash was like a big bang, its destruction reaching out to the non-existent walls. Had this been any normal realm brimming with architecture -or anything for that matter- surely, they would’ve been reduced to dust long ago. After all, two warriors with power comparable to that of a saint were currently battling out their past troubles. They were enemies, brothers and at one point they even shared the same dream.


    Within this desolate space created by Finral, seven figures stood -eight if you include Finral himself. This was to be their prison, or at least act as one for the time being as there was no way he’d be able to permanently trap them. Don’t get me wrong, in terms of combat power -and pretty much everything- Finral was leagues beyond the other six. Though it’d be a different story if you included the seventh, his brother. Which is why I saw, “two” warriors were currently undergone in battle.


    The other six were seated off to the side, finding anyway to pass the time as there was no way for them to escape. It’s not as if they hadn’t tried fighting Finral, just that there was no point in pointlessly wasting their efforts. Before now, they’d expended every card in their arsenal from close-range attacks to long-range spam, but nothing seemed to work. If you ask me, they were simply getting in his way… After all, he was the only one of the seven capable of confronting the monster known as “Finral”. He had a barbaric approach, sure, but even still his first proved effective against Finral’s wooden staff. Perhaps it was because of their shared family blessing -a gift bestowed upon their bloodline by their father.


    The barbarian, joyous and obnoxious, emitted a chilling rasp that seemed to echo around the infinite prison.


    “How long are you going to defend Michael, brother?” He questioned, his voice barely audible over the clashing of their starlites. “Don’t you realize the Gods are all liars?"


    "Funny…" Finral rumbled, his voice shaking the very foundations of the prison. "…How can you seriously say that when you’re following a God’s every command."


    “Do not misunderstand. I do not serve Lucifer. We’ve simply entered something of an agreement. When the time is right, I will destroy the gods and create the ‘Promised Kingdom’.”


    Finral, who was trying his best to hide his rage, fell into a sudden wave of anger and impatience. He flung himself straight at his brother, firing off countless beams of lights while doing so.


    “That is not what he would’ve wanted!! Our father believed in keeping a perfect balance. What reason would he have to destroy the Gods?!” Finral questioned while clashing his cane with Salomon’s fist.


    “You only see him that way, because you don’t know the real him. That man is a cruel and cold person… He cares nothing about peace!”


    *BOOM!


    Again, they continue to clash over and over with no clear victor.


    While they do, six Asuras strategize their next moves once they escape this retched prison, each sitting around a table created with Goldilocks’ powers.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    As if clinging to the last embers of hope, Cain questioned Goldilocks if she had the power to free them.


    Refusing to peel her eyes away from her hand-held console, she replied, “That Finral guy is totes built different when it comes to Constellation Arts. No way I could match him.”


    Adding his two sense was a lanky man, sipping on a cup of black tea he received thanks to Goldilocks’ power.


    “Well, aren’t you just useless.” He remarked.


    *Sip


    “Are you totes forgetting who gave you that drink?! …Aww you made me lose the level.”


    The lanky man -that commonly went by the name of “Jack”- snickered a bit at her demise. It seemed to be the perfect spice to enhance his tea’s flavor. Afterward, he turned to Christopher, who was hovering over Goldilocks’ chair, silently observing her gameplay, and asked for his take on the situation -seeing as he was the best at reading people''s strengths.


    “It’s clear to anyone that they’re evenly match, but even more so with my power…” Cristopher replied. “…I doubt this fight could end as anything but a draw. But it should be alright…”


    He paused, his eyes sweeping over each Asura in turn.


    “…They have the same powers. Which means Salomon can also use the same Constellation Arts, Finral can. I’m sure he’ll get us out somehow.”


    Jack, skeptical about that outcome, took a small sip of his tea before remarking, “Get us out, you say…?”


    You could almost see the large dots appearing above their heads as they took note of the level of joy in Salomon’s eyes. It was painfully clear that helping them escape this retched prison was the farthest thing on his mind. That realization prompted a mighty sigh from the group.


    Cain, as crazy as ever, attempted to change the topic.


    “If we do get out of here, Cain would ultra love to meet those brats again.”


    “Those brats?” Halter asked for clarification. “Are you perhaps referring to the AntiGod’s companions? The one’s who managed to escape from us?”


    “Cain ultra is… And why are you saluting at Cain?”


    Kicking the back of his left boot, Halter straightened himself, staring into Cain’s soul with that same fisheye expression he always wore.


    “Because you all will hail me!”


    “Like hell we will!” they screamed in unison.


    “Hey Midas. I get that we’re totes useless in this fight. But why are you here with us? Isn’t your power great for sneak attacks?”


    They all turned to the man who was even taller than Jack, as he absentmindedly scratched his cheek. Strangely, it sounded like two metal surfaces grinding together. Unlike the other Asuras, he opted to lay on the floor, resting on his side while observing the duel between Salomon and Finral.


    “Well?” Goldilocks reiterated.


    Midas, ever stoic, simply met their gaze with a flicker of sadness in his eyes. He was a man of deep thought, with a soul the weight of gold thanks to his past mistakes.


    He also had a rather shiny appearance, with the sides of his body seemingly covered in gold. Or maybe they were actually gold? The others never asked, and he preferred to keep to himself, so he wasn’t about to share anytime soon.


    “Well, that is true…” He dragged. “…But.”


    “But…?”


    “I… I can’t interrupt a fight between family.”


    The other asuras tumbled out of their seats in disappointment, then scolded him for not acting like a true demon and being too carefree, grumbling on about how he was always like this.