Malakor's fortals opened wide, each one forming a burning mouth that unleashed endless waves of fire. The blasts were countless, pouring out without pause, filling the nothingness with destruction.
Michael's sword glowed brighter. He dodged, blocked, and swung in rapid motion. Every strike collided with fire, each impact exploding violently. Still, the attacks did not stop.
He realized it then.
The portals would never end unless they were destroyed.
But how?
Michael focused. The thought came to him naturally. If the portal was a mouth, then it could be pierced. It sounded foolish even to him, like stabbing the air itself.
"It looks dumb," he thought, "but I'll do it."
His expression remained serious. He ran, then flew forward at extreme speed.
Malakor laughed loudly.
"My destructive power cannot be matched by any means! You, Michael, will never reach your full potential! You will die by my hands!"
"Hahahaha. You already lost!"
Malakor watched confidently as the portals continued firing their burning blasts.
Michael attacked one directly.
He stabbed straight into the burning mouth.
The portal vanished.
Michael's eyes sharpened.
"I understand it now," he thought. "All I have to do is stab the burning mouth. It closes."
He moved instantly. Dodging scorching blasts, he stabbed another portal. It disappeared. He swung again, piercing another. One by one, the portals collapsed, their flames dying out.
Soon, the dimension of nothingness fell silent.
Only fire drifted in the air now.
Michael and Malakor faced each other, surrounded by fading flames.
Michael spoke calmly, his voice steady.
"I'm slowly understanding things now. I am one of those Sentinels. I haven't reached my full potential yet, nor proven my worth to Vastyrion."
He lifted the sword slightly.
"In this place, Malakor, you think you can kill me. But this is all I can say."
"The higher being has rebuked you."
Malakor snapped.
His burning sword clashed violently with Michael's glowing blade. They moved at such speed that even light seemed frozen, their bodies appearing like unmoving statues between strikes.
Swing after swing echoed through the void. The ground shook as holes tore open beneath them. A burning strike from Malakor sent Michael flying, but he blocked it just in time with the white, star-lit sword.
Michael recovered instantly and pressed forward. He switched grips, swinging again and again until he forced Malakor back.
Then Michael stabbed him.
Malakor staggered as dark blood spilled. His wings flared wildly, madness filling his eyes.
"This is enough," Malakor growled. "It's time to rewrite reality. I'm losing to a kid."
He activated his power.
Nothing happened.
Michael stood still, watching him, sword steady in his hand.
Malakor screamed.
"No! He's just a kid! No!"
Michael's hair lifted as energy surged around him. His messy face was calm.
He rose into the air, stopping directly in front of Malakor.
"You're starting to grow desperate," Michael said.
"Shut up!" Malakor roared. "You are nothing!"
Malakor unleashed his fear manipulation. Darkness swallowed the space around Michael.
It did nothing.
Michael took a single step forward.
In the next instant, he vanished.
One slash.
Malakor's shoulder and arm were cut cleanly.
His burning eyes widened in disbelief.
"No!"
Michael's voice came from behind him.
"It's over, demon."