{Two Heads, One Collision Course}
The Crystal Head crashes through a cliff face, luminous shards exploding like fallen stars across the battlefield. Each fragment catches the light, turning the air into a galaxy of razor-sharp beauty. Behind it, Rokhan's pursuit is silent and relentless—a shadow given form, boots finding purchase on stone and root without a sound.
The Stone Head barrels through ancient trees on the opposite side, each trunk snapping like kindling under its massive bulk. The ground trembles with every impact. Dante charges in its wake, voice cutting through the chaos like a war horn:
> "Come on then, you rocky bastard! Let's see who breaks first!"
Their paths converge at the jungle's crumbling heart, where centuries-old trees lean at impossible angles. Both heads pause—serpentine necks coiling as ancient intelligence flickers behind their eyes—then switch directions with predatory cunning.
Dante and Rokhan nearly collide, close enough to feel each other's heat.
—
{First Meeting: Wordless Power}
Dante skids to a halt, towering inches from Rokhan's still form. Sweat beads on his forehead, muscles still coiled from the chase.
Rokhan stares back, expression carved from stone itself. His breathing is controlled, measured—as if he'd been standing there for hours instead of sprinting through hell.
> Dante (grinning through the adrenaline): "You lost, or you chasing that one too?"
> Rokhan (calm as winter): "Doesn't matter which one. They'll both fall."
Their words hang in the air as their Hydra heads circle back from opposite sides, roaring in stereo. The sound rattles leaves from branches, sends smaller creatures fleeing into the depths.
---
Without warning, both men explode forward—not toward the same head, but toward whichever fate delivers first.
No plan. No signal.
Pure instinct.
> Dante (shouting mid-charge): "I'll split mine in two before you even chip yours!"
Loud. But strong. Rokhan's thought flickers as he accelerates.
---
{Back-to-Back Brawl}
The battlefield erupts into primal chaos:
Dante seizes a boulder mid-sprint—muscles straining as he hurls it skyward with a roar that echoes off distant cliffs. The impact shatters Crystal Head's jaw in a cascade of light, each shard singing as it falls.
Rokhan flows like water under a tail swipe that would have crushed stone, plants both feet with practiced precision, and drives a two-fisted uppercut into Stone Head's chest. The impact rings like a bell. Cracks spider outward like fractured earth, deep enough to see the darkness within.
They drift together without conscious thought—backs almost touching as they fight, creating a pocket of devastation in the jungle's heart. Every movement flows into the next, raw instinct building something that looks almost like choreography.
> Rokhan (not looking, dodging another strike): "You fight like a war drum."
> Dante (grinning through blood and sweat): "And you hit like one."
The air around them grows thick with dust and crystal fragments, turning each breath into a challenge.
---
{Hydra Heads Flinch}
Both heads retreat, scales and stone regenerating slower now. Uncertainty flickers in their ancient eyes.
The ground lies littered with fragments of crystal and stone—proof of raw, unbridled dominance.
---
{VOX Commentary Explodes}
> VOX Announce:
"By the Tower's spine—what are we witnessing?! Stone and crystal cracking like glass!"
"That's Dante Dragunov and Rokhan Zokhul! Two juggernauts tearing through elemental monstrosities without an ounce of mana!"
"No weapons! No magic! Just muscle, instinct, and fury! If this is what the Golden Generation brings raw—what happens once they awaken their classes?!"
"Forget the Tower floors—reinforce the damn Colosseum. I think we've got two living siege engines!"
---
{Final Glance of Respect}
As both heads retreat into the jungle's depths, Rokhan and Dante face each other across the scarred battlefield. Bloodied. Breathing hard. Standing tall.
> Dante (smirking): "Let's finish this together when the time comes."
> Rokhan (nods): "Together."
No handshake. No ceremony.
Just a nod—the kind warriors exchange before war.
------
{Collision Point –bSteam-Shrouded Battleground}
Zayna tears through the Water Hydra Head like a living storm, fists and feet hammering in berserker fury. Each impact sends steam hissing into the air, her skin gleaming with moisture and heat. The sound of her strikes echoes like thunder.
The battlefield is chaos incarnate—geysers erupting in violent spurts, ancient foliage soaked and charred, the very air thick with violence and the scent of burning leaves. Mud and ash swirl together in a deadly dance.
Then she appears.
Evara steps through the mist like she owns it, pristine and poised, her gaze fixed on the Fire Hydra Head with cold calculation. She moves through steam and destruction as if attending court, each step deliberate and untouched by the chaos around her.
They nearly collide mid-strike. Zayna whirls to attack but stops short, fist inches from Evara's face.
---
{Initial Exchange – Instant Disdain}
Evara's cold gaze travels up and down Zayna's form with noble disgust.
> Evara: "You're making too much noise. It's undignified."
Zayna's laugh cuts through the steam—unbothered, mocking.
> Zayna: "And you're walking around like we're at some ballroom. This is a fight, not fashion week, Princess."
---
{Hydra Heads Shift – Forced Alliance}
Fire and Water surge simultaneously from opposite flanks. Instinct drives both girls back-to-back.
Neither wants this partnership.
Survival demands it.
They fight in unwilling sync:
Zayna catches a geyser blast and slams it back into the Water Head's maw.
Evara's precise strikes slice through flame waves, finding nerve clusters with surgical accuracy.
---
{Combat Chemistry Through Conflict}
Insults flow as freely as their coordination:
> Zayna: "Your head's slower than mine."
> Evara: "Your brain certainly is."
Their personalities mirror each other—prideful, arrogant, competitive. But their strengths complement in beautiful chaos.
---
{Hydra Regeneration Hints}
Between strikes, both notice the heads beginning to twitch and heal.
Evara's analytical mind works quickly.
> Evara: "The regeneration is rooted elsewhere."
Zayna's solution is simpler:
> Zayna: "Then let's kill these damn things fast before they bounce back."
---
{Coordinated Finish}
Without agreement, they time their final assault:
Zayna body-slams the Water Head, pinning it beneath her fury.
Evara's blade finds the Fire Head's exposed core beneath its jaw.
Both heads collapse.
Temporarily.
---
{Parting Shot – Still Not Friends}
They separate like rival gladiators—warriors, not comrades.
Zayna, breathing hard through her grin:
> Zayna: "Not bad, Your Highness. Might've made a decent barbarian."
Evara adjusts her gloves with practiced disgust:
> Evara: "And you might've made a decent house pet. If trained."
They walk away in opposite directions.
But each glances back, sizing up the other.
A bond of mutual disrespect... and dangerous potential.
---
{VOX Commentary}
> VOX Announce:
"An alliance born in fire and ego! Zayna Malik and Lady Evara Umbrea—two queens of chaos—but can the jungle handle both?"
{Zephyr vs. Shadow Head — Tension Mounts}
Deep in the trembling jungle, Zephyr moves like a phantom through patches of light and darkness. His blade carves through shadow itself, each strike precise and deadly. Sweat beads on his forehead despite the cool air.
The Shadow Head flickers in and out of existence, more concept than creature, slithering low like a serpent born of mist and malice. Every time he thinks he has it cornered, it dissolves and reforms just out of reach.
Zephyr's next slash forces it back, but his jaw tightens with frustration. The constant regeneration is wearing on his patience—and his stamina.
> Zephyr (coldly, breath coming harder): "It's regenerating... need to find the source before—"
A branch snaps above him. His eyes narrow, scanning the canopy.
---
{A Shadow Falls Over Zephyr}
A gust of wind. A casual blur.
A barefoot figure drops from the canopy above, landing beside him with the grace of someone who'd simply stepped off a sidewalk. Leaves flutter down in his wake.
> Noah: "Oh hey, yours is the black one, huh? Fast and sneaky—nice."
> Zephyr (deadpan, not breaking his guard): "Noah... what are you doing here?"
> Noah (innocently, stretching his arms): "Sightseeing. Jungle's lively today."
The Shadow Head senses opportunity and lunges between them. Zephyr counters with a silent spin, his blade singing through the air. Irritation bleeds through his usual composure.
> Zephyr (snapping): "Idiot. Can't you see I'm fighting here? Go play somewhere else."
It keeps regenerating... I don't have time for this.*
---
{Wind Head Joins – Double Trouble}
A second head bursts through the canopy—Wind Hydra, screeching with razor gusts.
It aims straight for Noah.
Without flinching, Noah casually punches it mid-air, knocking it sideways into a tree trunk.
> Noah (frowning): "Can't you see I'm talking here?"
Zephyr blinks. Stunned.
> Zephyr: "Noah...Can you handle both?"
> Noah (grins): "Sure."
---
Both heads—Shadow and Wind—circle him now, sensing fresh prey.
Noah whistles, stretches his legs, and sprints into the jungle. Both heads give chase, snapping and roaring in his wake.
> Noah (shouting over his shoulder): "Don't take too long, Z! I'm keeping these two busy!"
> Zephyr (muttering): "Idiot."
_________________________________________________
{An Original Series by Celestial Raven}