Emberforge Titan met Arvax in the center of the scorched pit like a meteor crashing into a volcano. Their limbs tangled—one coated in furnace flame, the other in molten brass—and the impact shattered the ground beneath them.
They roared in unison, each bellow deeper than thunder. Emberforge's cry was a guttural furnace scream, while Arvax's voice came fractured and digital—like a thousand failing verdicts.
"YOU—SHOULD—NOT—EXIST," Arvax snarled in broken syllables.
"Then prove it," Emberforge spat, and hurled a blazing uppercut into Arvax's chest.
The blow rang out like an iron bell. Arvax reeled, but countered with a piston-driven knee that caught Emberforge in the side. Steel screeched. Sparks erupted. Neither titan slowed.
Emberforge twisted with the momentum and slammed his elbow into Arvax's shoulder joint.
"BURN," he growled.
Arvax's response was to shove both hands forward, releasing a point-blank shockwave. "JUDGMENT—DELIVERED."
