Ana trembled, not from the cold but from the impossible calm of a single child. The storm punched the hall into a rolling blur — wind gnawing at banners, dust spinning like gray snow — yet at its eye Auren sat grinning, a small comet of joy in the middle of ruin.

His purple flame from the left eye circled his head like a halo-turned-ring. It made him look both angel and devil at once: soft light that promised heaven, and a bruise of color that promised pain. His laughter curled through the air, slipping between screams and breaking the rhythm of the battle. It was too bright, too free, and it made the stones shiver.

Ana stood frozen. The question of what was happening lodged in her throat like ice. Goosebumps rose across her beautiful attire; the embroidery of her robe seemed suddenly too fragile for the surrounding violence. She could not keep still. Her voice cracked, raw and urgent as a whip:

Do you know what you were in your past life? Do you have any idea?.

The question hung between them. Even with the wind and the chaos, the words fell crystal clear into Auren's ears — as if the world had lowered its volume to let that single sound through. He tilted his head, a small motion, and his one bright eye met Ana's. For a pulse, the world narrowed to two faces and a ring of purple flame.

Then Auren answered, steady and thunderous, his voice a child's ring and a battle-horn all at once:

My past life, you mean Ash Phantom? Hahaha, well, I guess now that. But forget about my past.

"I am Auren Ryuki, remember this name more than my previous Auren Ryuki, Auren Ryuki, Auren Ryuki," he shouted thunderously..

"Remember this name."

"Auren Ryuki is the name of a kid who will change this world one day. Will avenge my brother. I can't digest injustice. You got it ."

His declaration rolled across the hall. It sounded like a promise and a threat braided together, spoken by a boy and stamped with the weight of fate. Around them, the storm seemed to tilt in answer — banners snapping, a distant crack like a drumbeat, and the purple halo around Auren flickering as if struck by wind.

Ana's jaw clenched. For a moment, everything else blurred: the tornado, the collapsing pillars, the men still fighting.

Only that name, that small, repeated hammer, hammered in her ears. The surrounding crowd inhaled as one — a pause before a fall.

And then — from somewhere under the roar — something moved.

Vaslimo and Dax both felt it — the echo of Auren's words still resonating through the hall. Deep down, Dax felt something amazing emanating from the boy. A spark of awe slipped through him, even as he kept one eye on Vaslimo, one hand ready for the chaos around. A silent cheer for Auren hovered on his lips, though the battle demanded his focus.

Vaslimo, meanwhile, didn't miss a single detail. That kid… this Auren… he was unlike anyone they had ever faced. Otherworldly aura, unnatural composure, a presence that seemed to bend the very air around him. Vaslimo's grip tightened on his hammer; even in the middle of the battlefield, he could feel it — Auren was something different, something dangerous.

Meanwhile, Auren ignored Ana completely. He drifted across the shattered hall, towards a massive stone-carved pillar. He leaned against it, back resting on cold, smooth stone. The chaos around him — screaming, spinning debris, the tornado that had trapped their comrades — seemed to fade to a distant hum.

The purple flame around his eye dimmed, retreating like a tide. His lunatic form melted away; his pupils returned to normal, his teeth no longer glowed, and even the silver streaks in his hair settled into a soft, moonlit shimmer. For a moment, he looked peaceful, almost like a child lost in a dream, yet the tension in the air remained palpable.

Dax's focus wavered. "What are you doing, Auren? I need you! Our members are still trapped in the tornado. I am all alone now! How can you sleep now?!" he shouted, his voice cracking slightly with frustration. But Auren didn't move. His slow, deliberate rest disturbed Dax more than any attack could.

Ana, standing a few paces away, felt something she didn't understand — a strange, constant ease washing over her, like the weight of the world had lifted just by being near him. She blinked, caught in a mix of awe and confusion.

Vaslimo, unwilling to hesitate, slammed his hammer into the floor with a deafening crash, the sound rippling through the tornado's winds. He charged at Dax's Terminator form, every step shaking the ground beneath him, his expression hard and unyielding. The battlefield erupted around them once more, chaos spinning faster, but in that brief moment.

Vaslimo roared, swinging his colossal hammer like a mountain about to collapse. The air cracked under its weight. Dax, in his Terminator form, didn't flinch. His right arm twisted, shifting shape, the steel flesh turning into a jagged blade. He lunged forward — Metal Fang Slash! The strike met the hammer head-on, a burst of sparks cutting the hall into two halves of light and shadow.

"Too slow," Vaslimo growled, stomping the ground. His hammer spun in his hands, momentum surging like a raging beast. He brought it down — Earthshatter Drive! The floor split open beneath them, stone pillars cracking, waves of dust rippling outward.

Dax slid sideways, his legs bending into twisted wheels for a second, gliding across the ground like a predator. His left arm reshaped into a cannon, a glowing orb of red energy pulsing at its core. Core Burst Shot! The beam fired, streaking across the hall, grazing Vaslimo's shoulder before slamming into the far wall, carving a crater.

Vaslimo snarled, blood trickling down but rage burning hotter. He twisted his hammer and slammed it upward, a wild arc that caught Dax mid-motion. Dax barely managed to transfigure his arm into a steel shield, the hammer's weight ringing across it like a death bell. His whole body skidded back, boots digging trenches in stone.

Dax smirked, teeth flashing. His legs snapped and shifted, turning into massive steel spikes. He leapt — Spike Descent! From above, he came crashing down. Vaslimo answered with a roar, planting his hammer into the ground and calling chains of energy from it — Graviton Bind! Invisible weight dragged Dax mid-air, slowing him.

The spike crash missed its force, landing hard but breaking stone instead of Vaslimo. Dax rolled out, breathing heavy. Vaslimo stepped forward, shoulders heaving, hammer raised like the judgment of gods.

The clash had no winner yet. But Vaslimo's strikes were pressing, heavier, dragging Dax closer to the edge.

In the middle of chaos, the energy sphere inside the tornado finally burst — a blast so loud it cracked the hall from root to ceiling. A wave of destruction screamed across the walls, pillars shattering, the roof trembling like it would collapse on itself. Dust and thunder rained, but out of that storm, two figures stood fused.

It was no longer Aazin. No longer Ryzin. What stood there was something else — something born out of pure contradiction. Blue and red smashed against each other on their body like eternal enemies, yet neither side won; each side yielded.

Their right eye — a crimson star, burning, pulsing like it was about to consume the world. Their left eye — deep sapphire, endless, like drowning into an ocean with no bottom. Both eyes glared forward, and between them a faint ring of violet flame spun, like the universe itself bent in their pupils.

Their hair whipped wild, strands split — one side streaked in scarlet fire, the other in icy blue. Every lock sparked, leaking aura straight into the storm. Around them, red flames and blue frost-light spiraled, fighting, colliding, feeding each other. Each step they took, the floor cracked — red sparks erupted, blue mist froze, shattering, only to regrow again. Aura farming, endless, eternal.

Their armor was fractured black stone, veins glowing across it. On one half, crimson runes burned; on the other, azure sigils bled light. Across their chests, a mark blazed — a spearhead of red and blue piercing through a broken halo.

Heat and cold spread together, one breath searing, next breath freezing. The hall was split into two — half storming hellfire, half abyss of frost. Unlivable, untouchable.

They weren't just brothers anymore.They had become the Twin Catastrophe.

As the tornado unraveled into dust, the hall gasped in silence. From above, bodies began to drop.

Vivi's small frame spun helplessly, her arms reaching as her eyes widened in fear. Nyra, wings battered by the storm, tumbled like a broken angel, hair streaking through the air.

Nova clutched his chest, blood trailing, his body twisting before crashing down. Around them, the mages fell like shattered stars, robes torn, spells flickering out mid-flight.

Their screams mixed with the echoing collapse, a rain of warriors crashing upon stone. The storm had ended, but its aftermath fell heavy, alive with despair.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.