In the silent fold of the isolated dimension, where light didn't enter and sound seemed to be swallowed up by space itself, two colossal figures clashed like forces of pure will.
There were no words. There were no screams.
Just the raw sounds of battle: flesh against scales, claws against fangs, wings tearing at thin air.
Ouroboros' endless body spun in vast spirals, like a snake trying to coil the world. Its black scales, with violet-blue reflections, seemed to suck in the surrounding light. Her movement was hypnotic - as if she were dancing while trying to crush everything in her reach.
Tiamat responded with brutality and precision. Her five heads fought not in synchrony, but in coordinated chaos - each one representing an instinct, an emotion, a fury.
The fire head opened its jaw in short, devastating bursts that not only burned, but exploded on impact like magma bombs.
