The desert wind howled as Paulo Satoshi stood between Momo Yokoyama and Aliya Akamine, his cosmic katana humming with residual energy.
His breathing was heavy, his body battered, but his eyes burned with celestial resolve.
He lowered his arms slowly, placing his hands near his knees.
The air around him began to shimmer, warping like heat waves.
Sand lifted into the air, suspended in a gravity-defying spiral.
Momo and Aliya paused, sensing something ancient stirring.
Paulo brought his hands together in a slow, deliberate motion, fingers interlocking, palms pressed.
The sky darkened. A pulse of energy radiated outward, forming a dome of cosmic light that encased the three of them.
Riku Masusa, still collapsed in the distance, watched in awe as the barrier sealed—locking him out.
"Realm Creation…" Paulo whispered, his voice echoing across dimensions, "Infinite Death Shrine."
Suddenly, the desert was gone.
They stood within a vast, nightmarish shrine, floating on a sea of black water that shimmered with trapped souls.
The shrine itself was a towering structure of skulls, bones, and blood-forged stone, spiralling upward like a cathedral built by death itself.
Crimson mist hung in the air, and the only light came from flickering torches held by skeletal sentinels lining the shrine's perimeter.
The water was cursed, unenterable, even by flight or teleportation.
Any attempt to touch it would result in instant paralysis, as if the souls within dragged intruders into oblivion.
Aliya's shadows recoiled. Momo's scythe pulsed with unease.
"What is this place?" Aliya hissed, her voice trembling.
"A realm where death is worshipped," Paulo replied, stepping forward, "And where I am its high priest."
The shrine's central altar rose from the water, a platform of bone and cosmic steel.
Paulo stood atop it, his katana glowing with the energy of the realm.
Here, his powers were amplified, his Death Slice now infused with shrine-born wrath, his Copy ability able to mimic even the ambient magic of the realm itself.
Momo lunged first, her Blood Scythe carving a path through the air.
Paulo met her mid-strike, their weapons clashing with a thunderous boom. The shrine responded, skulls on the walls screamed, and blood poured from the ceiling like rain.
Aliya tried to manipulate the shadows, but they twisted unnaturally, resisting her control.
Paulo had rewritten the rules here.
Her Shadow Manipulation faltered, and she was forced to fight with raw skill alone.
"You made this realm…" Momo growled, dodging a flurry of strikes, "But it will become your tomb."
"Then I'll be buried in glory," Paulo roared, unleashing a triple-strike combo, katana, staff, and copied scythe energy, forcing both women to retreat.
Outside the barrier, Riku struggled to rise.
He could see the shrine through the shimmering dome, but he could not enter.
He clenched his fists, light flickering around him, "Paulo… you are fighting gods in a realm of death. Do not die in there…"
Inside, the shrine began to shift.
The skulls rearranged, forming grotesque statues of fallen monarchs.
The blood water surged, creating waves that crashed against the altar.
The realm was alive, feeding on the battle, growing stronger with each clash.
Paulo stood tall, his energy flickering but his spirit unbroken.
"This is my realm," he said, voice echoing like thunder, "And in it… I am death."
***
Inside the grotesque shrine of skulls and blood, the air grew heavier.
The cursed water surrounding the altar rippled with anticipation.
Aliya Akamine and Momo Yokoyama circled Paulo Satoshi, unaware that the realm itself was shifting beneath their feet.
Then, Paulo spoke, his voice low but resonant, "This realm obeys only one rule… and I am its god."
A pulse of energy surged from the shrine's core.
The torches dimmed.
The shadows recoiled.
Momo's blood manipulation fizzled. Aliya's shadow tendrils evaporated into smoke.
"What…?" Aliya gasped, her katana flickering, "My powers, they're gone!"
"Only the caster can use abilities in this realm," Paulo said, stepping forward, "You walked into your own execution."
Aliya's eyes widened.
She lunged, relying on raw speed and swordsmanship, but Paulo was faster.
With a blur of motion, he sidestepped, disarmed her, and delivered a devastating Death Slice across her chest.
The cosmic energy tore through her armour and into her core.
She collapsed to her knees, coughing shadows, "You… tricked us…"
"I gave you a chance to leave," Paulo whispered, "You chose to stay."
With one final swing, Paulo struck Aliya down.
Her body dissolved into the shrine's floor, absorbed by the realm itself.
Momo, watching from the edge of the altar, stood frozen.
Her regeneration still worked, barely, but she knew she was next.
She gritted her teeth, preparing for a final stand.
But then, the shrine trembled.
Cracks formed in the skull walls.
The blood water surged violently.
The torches exploded in bursts of black flame.
"No…" Paulo muttered. "The realm, it's collapsing."
The Infinite Death Shrine had reached its limit.
With Aliya's death, the balance of power shifted.
The realm, built on death and cosmic energy, began to unravel.
Outside, Riku Masusa saw the barrier fracture.
A blinding light burst from within, followed by a shockwave that flattened the dunes.
The shrine shattered like glass, and the desert returned, silent, scorched, and still.
In the centre, Paulo stood, barely conscious, his body cracked with cosmic strain.
Riku, limping and bloodied, sprinted toward him, "Paulo! We have to go, now!"
Behind them, the Obsidian Gate pulsed, its portal flickering.
Riku grabbed Paulo's arm and dragged him toward it.
Paulo resisted for a moment, looking back at the battlefield, "Momo…" But she was gone.
Unseen, Momo Yokoyama had slipped into the shadows during the collapse.
Her body broken, her scythe cracked, but her will unshaken.
She vanished into the wind, retreating toward the Cosmic Base, where the other forces of Paulo awaited for her revenge.
As Riku and Paulo crossed the threshold of the Obsidian Gate, the portal sealed behind them with a thunderous boom.
The desert was silent once more.
But the war was far from over.