The wind of Tak'Halar swept red sands into the grey sky.
The two kingdoms—Vildrach and Alram—remained locked in mutual slaughter, unaware their true enemy had arrived. In the desert's heart stood a single silhouette... a man wreathed in swirling colors.
"My name is Rio Morgan," he murmured softly.
"And I do not stand for any of you."
He advanced alone. Bearing no flag. Representing no nation. Only color—and resolve.
The first cry came from Alram's forces.
"Color-witch! Kill him! He threatens all purification!"
Spiritual arrows loosed, hundreds strong. Rio raised a hand—Red spread from his body, forming a small dome. All arrows deflected skyward, hurled back to pierce their archers.
From Vildrach's direction, engines roared. Energy-steel tanks swiveled their barrels. Plasma shells fired toward the field's center.
Rio touched his chest.
"Blue."
Instantly, gravity shifted around him. All shells, earth fragments, even mutants in the projectiles' path—sucked toward the blue focal point. Then Rio activated Red—and everything rebounded toward the gunners.
Tanks exploded. Human and mutant screams fused.
Seeing this threat, both armies shifted focus. From fighting each other, they united... against Rio. Over 30,000 soldiers and hundreds of mutants charged the desert's heart. Their thunderous steps shook the earth.
Rio raised both hands high. White spun rapidly, forming a halo of light in the air.
"Void Construct: Leviathan."
From the void emerged a 70-meter-long translucent white dragon. Its body shimmered with dimensional fragments, eyes sharp as starlight.
The dragon roared.
Blood froze. Mutants cowered.
Rio stood atop the dragon's head, then descended through the sea of soldiers. With every step, Black activated—erasing ground, weapons, any body blocking his path.
He killed not without reason. Only attackers—vanished.
Vildrach troops retreated behind barricades. They activated plasma shields—30-meter energy walls. Heavy cannons readied behind them.
Rio gazed coldly.
He touched the earth.
"Blue. Pull everything to the shield's central coordinates."
Instantly, the shield's entire support structure—including foundations—imploded into a single point. The colossal wall collapsed like dominoes. Soldiers panicked. Before they could fire, Rio glided across the field on a white void-board—a dimensional surfboard of his making.
He breached their defenses. With one stomp of his right hand—
Black split their entire artillery line into dust.
On Alram's side, holy elders began a mass purification ritual. They sacrificed 200 lives in a sacred circle to summon the Holy Entity of Sin-Cleansing.
The sky tore open. Blinding white light bathed the desert.
"He shall be purified by Grace-Light!"
Rio looked skyward.
But he merely raised his left hand—creating a White void-loop.
From that loop emerged an indescribable form. An idea-entity—a pure concept called Rejection. Not a being. Not a weapon. But the idea that all divine intervention is illusion.
The heavenly light... shattered.
The ritual collapsed. Elders crumpled, some weeping... realizing their 'faith' was but a tool of war.
Vildrach unleashed their third-wave mutants. Most advanced. No longer command-driven, but moving with collective consciousness.
Rio smiled faintly.
"You think I fight only with color? You forget one thing: I too... am human."
He deactivated all colors. Ran forward—unprotected.
Mutants swarmed.
Rio leaped. A kick shattered one mutant's skull. A fist caved another's chest. He fought as a true warrior—without cosmic aid, briefly proving even colorless, he was more than enough.
Yet as claws began tearing his flesh, he activated Grey.
Instantly, the world slowed. Enemy movements blurred. Attacks randomized. He slipped between possibilities. One second *here*. Next second *gone*. Then reappeared above the horde, slamming his palm down.
"Collapse."
All creatures within 50 meters—vanished in a spiral of grey entropy.
Rio walked across the now-silent battlefield. Hundreds of thousands had fallen. Only desert wind whispered. Dust danced among corpses.
In the distance, the masked figure atop the black tower still stood.
Their eyes met.
"You... defeated two kingdoms and our experiment."
Rio didn't answer. Only walked closer.
"You are no longer human," the figure said. "You threaten the world's balance. You must be sealed."
Rio stopped beneath the tower.
"If the world's balance means fear, lies, and meaningless sacrifice," he stated flatly, "then let me overturn it myself."