A primordial storm against a divine inferno.
Alan just kept at it, exhausting himself as he poured down fireball after fireball, concentrated breaths of fire... everything he could as the nausea and exhaustion took over. Kizmal reciprocated by raining down lightning from the skies to shoot the divine bird of flame down, as well as launching eviscerating beams of light whenever he could.
Alan had assumed the form of a golden Phoenix the moment Emma had done her 'enhancement.' But he could feel it lose its power. He knew he had to end this stalemate.
The barrage of magic had to end soon, he was feeling empty, and so was Kizmal. He had to be!
The storm was reducing, but the lightning was still the same. Kizmal roared, and Alan was thrown back by the sheer force of it. The golden fire around him was fading.
