The two stared at each other, neither making a move.
Ben's aura pulsed as he continued to gather energy into the black halo above his pickaxe. He wasn't ready to strike yet, not until he could make it count.
Apophis, meanwhile, stood silently deep in thought.
'It'll be fun,' she mused, 'watching him meet the others.'
Then her lips curled into a smile.
She raised her hand, summoned her dark sword, and dashed toward him in a flash.
Ben clicked his tongue. 'Still not ready.' He lifted his pickaxe instinctively, preparing to clash.
But the moment their weapons touched, The world dissolved.
The battlefield, the smoke, the void around them, all vanished like mist.
His pickaxe passed harmlessly through her form. She was already fading, her body unraveling into darkness.
Only her voice remained, soft and distant,
"We'll meet again, Ben."
And then, silence.
The ruined space gone. His feet now rested on solid, real ground. "Dammit," he muttered, lowering the pickaxe.
