Kaiser floated midair, eyes closed, arms outstretched as the shadows beneath him churned like a vortex. Then, without a sound, he was swallowed whole into the swirling mass. From that darkness emerged Alzalel—no longer a mere voice in Kaiser's mind, but a towering spectral entity. He stood atop the shadowy whirlpool that served as his torso, four elongated limbs stretched out with haunting grace. His clawed hands flexed, and from beneath a shrouded hood, golden eyes pulsed with radiant fury.
On the other side, Wulf puffed into a wisp of smoke—and was replaced by a figure draped in an ornate, almost theatrical jester's outfit. Her face was deathly pale, a constant, unsettling smirk curving her lips. Harlequin twirled once, gracefully landing on her toes, arms wide like a performer presenting her final act.
Kori clapped slowly, mockingly. "This should be interesting," he said with amusement. "But I'm telling you now—whatever you do, you can't defeat me here. Not in my Void Plain."
