Chaos reigned across the storm-tossed deck. Sora clamped both hands around an iron pillar as the ship pitched violently, timbers groaning like a dying beast.
"Hold on!" he shouted, teeth clenched against the howling wind.
Luke vaulted onto a coiled rope, rolling smoothly to absorb the impact. "No need to tell me twice," he muttered, eyes slicing through the black horizon.
For a heartbeat, the world held its breath—then BOOM. The hull shuddered from stem to stern, planks buckling under an unimaginable force. The ocean had turned wrong—not just dark, but alive, writhing like molten oil. Salt spray slammed their faces; shredded rigging screamed in the gale.
"Something's coming," Sora whispered, ice crawling up his spine.
"Everyone off the deck—NOW!" he bellowed.
Too late.
A colossal tentacle erupted from the depths, thicker than a main mast, smashing a crewman into the railing with a wet, bone-crunching crack. Splinters exploded outward. Another limb smashed down inches from Sora, hurling him backward across slick planks.
From the black churn of the abyss rose the shadow itself—towering, impossible. The sea twisted into a spiraling cyclone. Then its eyes ignited: molten orbs of ancient, hating intelligence, glowing like dying stars.
The Kraken moved.
Tentacles lashed like living lightning—each strike hurricane-strong, faster than thought. Masts splintered; railings vanished in clouds of debris. Sora's heart thundered, but mantra hummed steady, anchoring him.
"I need to send it back," Sora growled, fists tightening. "No matter what."
Wood splintered under his boots as he weaved—left, right, duck—barely evading the storm of limbs.
The Kraken's voice rolled across the deck, not shouted but felt, vibrating through bone and marrow.
"Stop resisting. Futile."
Sora deflected one blow, then another. Arms burned; mantra flickered weakly. Too many. Too fast.He missed one.
The tentacle caught him square in the ribs. The world flipped. Sora crashed through barrels in a violent burst of splinters and iron bands, rolling hard across the deck as pain erupted through his side. Blood filled his mouth.
The ship screamed as another limb coiled around the hull, squeezing.
The Kraken rose higher, waterfalls cascading off its gargantuan bulk, eyes locked on the broken boy kneeling on one knee.
"Persistent human," it rumbled, almost amused. "Persistence does not rewrite fate."
The tentacle above froze mid-swing.
A hair-thin red line appeared along its length. It split. Black ichor fountained into the sea. The severed limb crashed down, sending a tidal wave rippling outward.
The Kraken screamed.
Sora whipped his head around. Luke stood on the water's surface. Perfect circles rippled beneath his boots—as if the ocean itself feared to swallow him.
"You're… bigger than I thought," Luke said quietly, almost respectful.
Rage answered. Dozens of tentacles erupted at once, spearing toward him like harpoons. Water detonated into white pillars.
Luke moved with deadly precision. Step. Slash. Step. Another cut. Black blood poured, staining the waves. Severed limbs writhed, knitting back thicker, faster, angrier.
Sora's eyes widened. "It's regenerating that fast?!"
Luke clicked his tongue. "Rude."
A limb whipped from behind—too close. Luke bent, sprinted across the water as it skimmed overhead, tearing the sea apart. He twisted mid-leap, blade arcing in a brutal silver crescent. Another tentacle bisected. He landed lightly, already moving.
"Oi," he called back. "You good, uh… Nora?"
Sora coughed blood, forcing himself up amid the wreckage. "It's Sora!"
"Right. Sorry. Lora."
"That's worse."
Another tentacle hammered toward the ship. Sora clenched his fists—Platinum energy humming low. Luke flashed beside him in a blur of water-steps.
"Watch your footing," Luke said casually—then slashed. The limb recoiled, sparing the hull by inches.
The Kraken reared fully, eclipsing the moon. Its roar shook the sky. Waves rose like black cliffs.
Sora stared at Luke. "You're… standing on water."
Luke glanced down. "Oh. Yeah. You can too."
"…What?"
Luke skidded backward across the surface. "Push your weight down. Not with your body—with intent."
The Kraken struck again—tentacles, crushing waves, suffocating pressure.
Luke stepped forward. "Try not to die." He vanished into motion.
The battlefield became chaos: explosions of spray, black ink mixing with white foam, steel flashing endlessly as regeneration clashed with desperate speed.
Sora exhaled slowly. Mantra flowed downward, compressing into his soles. Pressure equalized. The sea resisted—then yielded. His boots held.
He took one step. Then another. Knees shook. Ankles burned like fire.
Luke's laugh cut through the storm from ahead. "There you go! Easy, right?"
"Easy?! My feet are melting!"
A tentacle burst upward. Sora leaned forward—and ran.
Each step hammered mantra into the water. Explosions detonated beneath him. Energy coiled tighter, spreading from fists to arms, spine, legs—liquid starlight.
He whispered, teeth gritted:
"Platinum… Punch."
Sora's fist thrummed with raw, condensed energy. With a roar, he unleashed Platinum Punch. Every ounce of power coiled into the strike—and the Kraken screamed as the blow connected, rocketing the colossal beast backward, crashing into the black waves dozens of meters away in a massive spray of debris.
The Kraken's massive form rippled and warped. Black scales split with a grinding crack, revealing jagged, bone-like protrusions. Tentacles thickened; eyes multiplied across its bulk, each glowing with molten, calculating light. Its roar ripped through the storm, a bone-rattling vibration that silenced even the wind for a heartbeat.
"You fight with power," it hissed, voice layered in multiple tones that seemed to echo from every direction, "but power without cunning is… amusing."
Tentacles lashed outward—not random, but precise—slicing through the waves as if the water itself obeyed its will. Every surge, every crashing swell, moved with intent, trying to box Sora and Luke in, to crush them before they could step.
Then, as the storm tightened around them, the monstrous bulk began to shrink, compressing, reshaping—until the towering nightmare condensed into a human-sized figure. Tentacles fanned out behind him like living shadows, writhing with menace, glistening black and sharp as spears.
A grin split the figure's face—wide, cruel, impossible. "You may have names," he said, voice smooth and venomous, "but you can call me Arc Demon Brock."
The air thickened. Waves froze mid-crash. The storm's howl stilled for a heartbeat. All eyes fell on the figure who had just become far more dangerous.
Brock's grin widened. "I've learned from the abyss. I see everything. I anticipate everything. Every punch, every step… futile. And yet…" He raised a hand, tentacles coiling, dripping black ichor. "…I do enjoy a little sport."
Sora's chest tightened. Energy flared along his arms, fists vibrating with raw force. His heart hammered against his ribs.
Luke's eyes gleamed golden, calm and unshakable amid the chaos. Water rippled beneath his feet—perfectly still yet charged with intent. He stepped forward, voice low but sharp, slicing through the storm like a blade.
"Reveal… Nox Aeternum."