The earth was torn beneath them — shredded roots, craters, stone broken down to dust. The clearing outside the HQ was now a battleground, surrounded by cliffside terrain and fractured forest edges.
Kratos charged again, raw fury in his muscles. His fist cocked back, heat radiating from his skin.
Slayer didn't move.
He waited. Then — SNAP — his hand shot out, catching Kratos's punch mid-air.
Not just stopping it.
Crushing it.
Kratos's eyes widened for a second — just as Slayer's grip twisted his wrist slowly, metal groaning under the gauntlet's power.
CRACK.
Kratos snarled in pain—only for Slayer to twist fully and slam a fist into his ribs, so hard it sounded like a drum breaking open.
Kratos flew back, skidding on his boots, feet digging into dirt.
But he didn't fall.
He growled, charged again—this time feinting high and sweeping low with a spinning kick.
Slayer jumped it—barely—then countered with a shoulder tackle, slamming into Kratos and sending both into a nearby tree, which cracked and fell with a thunderous crash.
From the sidelines, the entire damn world watched.
Rengoku's eyes were wide. "Their instincts... it's like watching nature fight itself."
Sanemi wiped blood from his nose—he'd gotten too close to the shockwave. "This is insane."
Akaza grinned like a demon at a feast. "Now this… this is a fight."
Doma laughed, sitting atop a branch. "Who needs theater when we've got this?"
Tengen flexed his fists. "They're fighting like gods. No rhythm. Just raw damn tempo."
Suddenly—
BOOOOOOM.
The sky turned white.
Everyone froze.
Even Kratos and Slayer paused mid-motion, locked together with fists raised.
A shockwave ripped through the air. Wind howled. Trees bent backward. Leaves tore free, spinning into the heavens like they were caught in a typhoon.
Then—light.
Blinding.
A pulse from the sky, like someone had cracked a divine whip across the heavens.
From the far east, just over the edge of the mountain range — a rift burst open.
It looked like the Bifröst had been summoned — but this was different.
Jagged. Dark. Violent.
Purple lightning danced across the sky as something massive stirred behind the tear, casting shadows across the entire sky.
Everyone shielded their eyes.
Even Slayer stepped back.
Kratos lowered his fists, his breath slow now. "What… is that?"
Atreus looked skyward, jaw slack. "That's not from this world. That's not even from ours."
The air felt wrong. Heavier. Like something had stepped into their reality that shouldn't exist.
From above, Muzan himself appeared out of the trees, cloak fluttering behind him.
He looked up, brow furrowed. "…That doesn't belong to any realm I know."
Kokushibo turned, eyes narrowing. "Neither demon… nor god."
Even the Upper Moons—silent.
No taunts now.
Everyone just stared at the sky.
Slayer's head tilted slightly. He didn't move, but the tension in his stance said it all.
He knew.
Kratos stepped forward, standing beside him now. No longer foes — not for this moment.
"You brought something with you," Kratos muttered.
The Slayer didn't answer.
Because whatever was coming through that rift…
Was coming for them all.