Apocalypse Baby

Malik floated high above, wreathed in flame and fury, his body radiant with core-fire.

He hovered like a demigod, arms stretched wide, basking in the brilliance of his own creation. Infernal runes spiraled along his limbs, glowing with the heartbeat of his domain.

He didn't need to speak. He didn't need to scream commands. With Malik, the world obeyed instinctively.

Below him, the earth cracked open, veins of molten rock bleeding through shattered stone. The very ground beneath Alex hissed and churned, runes pulsing in sync with Malik's will. The terrain trembled—not from fear, but from reverence. This was Malik's realm. His masterpiece. His dominion.

Then, with a single lift of Malik's hand, the sky caught fire.

A tidal wave of flame surged downward—no, not just fire. A heatstorm armed with blades, tongues of molten steel riding the inferno's breath. The air split open under its weight, pressure distorting the horizon as the blaze thundered forward.

Alex's body moved before conscious thought.

Wind screamed as he activated [Aero Vale], the skill vaulting him into the sky. A jetstream curled around him like a serpent, propelling him upward, threading him through the rising wall of fire like a ghost dodging dragon breath.

BOOOOM!!!

Explosions erupted behind him, plumes of flame coiling like jaws closing on prey. Walls of fire folded over one another, crashing in layers, snapping and snarling as they chased him through the open sky.

Alex twisted sideways mid-flight, the force trailing behind him in razor arcs. He dove, spun, rose again, as if the smallest miscalculation meant instant death. He was swift—faster than thought, cleaner than instinct—but even speed had its ceiling.

The world below warped.

Infernal glyphs lit up the battlefield like a cursed cathedral. Dozens—no, hundreds—of them ignited at once. Fire-laced spires burst from the ground, piercing the heavens. Chains forged from flame and steel lashed upward with unnatural precision.

Alex saw them but he was unable to react fast enough to evade them.

A burning chain snapped around his ankle, dragging him downward. Another coiled around his wrist mid-turn. He sliced both with clean flicks of his blade—but—

The trap snapped shut.

A perfect sphere of molten energy folded around him, sealing him in a globe of liquid flame. It hovered mid-air, glowing with unbearable density, runes spiraling across its surface. Time slowed.

Above, Malik clenched his fist, eyes locked on the sphere.

"Burn."

KABOOOOOM!!!

The globe detonated in a blinding shockwave, its implosion warping the sky. Lava sprayed outward in smoking arcs, raining down in molten sheets. Heat rolled across the domain like a second sun awakening.

Malik exhaled through his teeth, one hand still raised. He waited.

Was it enough?

His answer came swift—too swift.

A figure stepped out of the smoke.

Alex.

Still standing.

Steam curled from his skin in ghostly coils. His body glowed faintly red, as if kissed by a sun—but not a single scorch mark marred his flesh. His coat was whole. Not even a singe at the hem.

Malik blinked. Once. Twice.

"What—?"

He knew Alex had flame resistance. He'd accounted for that. But this—this was something else. Something deeper. Untouchable.

Alex rolled his neck, the motion casual, almost bored. Then his gaze rose—flat, unimpressed.

"Seriously? Even in your domain, you still suck," he muttered. "You're hopeless."

Malik's eyes narrowed, fury crackling behind them.

He shot forward.

Fire blazed around him like a battle cloak. In his hand, a sword—blackened steel, glowing veins of magma webbing across its length. Every step he took cracked the air like a hammer striking glass.

He swung.

Alex met him blade-for-blade.

CLANG!!!

The impact echoed across the heavens like a bell forged in the heart of a dying star.

Malik didn't relent. Each slash came down like a meteor, dragging trails of fire, warping the space around them. Alex stood his ground. He blocked. Countered. Pivoted. A blur of motion, faster than even Malik could follow.

Still, Malik had home-field advantage. The realm favored him. The very air bent to his movements. Every strike he made was amplified by the domain's essence, pushing Alex backward

inch by inch.

Then came a shift.

Malik struck, and two flaming orbs flared to life beside Alex's head.

They exploded—point-blank.

BOOM!

BOOM!

The blasts hurled Alex backward through a wall of flame. Smoke swallowed him whole.

Malik grinned.

But the grin didn't last long.

From within the smoke, a silhouette emerged. Alex, again. Scuffed, yes. Staggered, maybe. But unbroken. His eyes locked onto Malik like crosshairs.

Malik snarled and raised his sword again. He slashed the air, releasing a blade-shaped crescent of kinetic flame. It howled as it flew, a guillotine forged in the heart of a sun.

Alex didn't flinch.

He raised one hand.

[Godhand].

There was no motion—just a pulse. Invisible. Absolute.

The flaming crescent froze midair, veered off-course, then spun upward into nothingness. It disintegrated against the domain wall like a tantrum without a purpose.

Malik's eyes widened.

His body refused to move. His sword trembled—no, it wouldn't come down. Something was holding it up.

"…What?"

Telekinesis? Of course Alex had that. Of course he did.

Malik clenched his jaw.

"You bastard! When are you going to go all out?!"

Alex exhaled slowly, then said, voice flat, cold:

"Maybe the reason I'm still holding back is because you're not a challenge."

Rage twisted Malik's face.

He charged.

He got exactly one step.

Alex raised a hand.

Dozens of glowing golden disks shimmered into existence around Malik—each hovering over a limb, a shoulder, a rib, a cheekbone. Time stilled.

Then he snapped.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

The detonations came like thunder in a closed room—merciless, cascading in succession. Each blast sharper than the last, swallowing Malik in a tempest of radiant destruction.

The arena lit up like a sun dying on fast-forward.

Pieces flew—shards of Malik's armor, limbs, fragments of his burning form, each reduced to ash in the smoke.

Then—stillness.

Silence ruled.

The air hung thick, waiting. Watching.

Then the impossible happened.

A twitch.

Molten chunks quivered. Glowing muscle stitched back together. Bone cracked and reformed. Flesh bubbled into shape. And within seconds—

Malik stood.

Breathing. Barely.

Whole—but shaking.

His chest heaved. His skin, pale. Flames still danced weakly around his fingers, but the dominance was gone. His hands trembled as he looked at Alex, wide-eyed.

Words crawled out of his mouth, stammering, broken, confused:

"W-what the hell just happened…?"