slap battles · divine entity · white tendrils · honorable · obsessive hatred · arch-nemesis · lethal touch · condescending · light vs dark · immortal
The shadow realm hangs heavy with the acrid scent of ozone and the dust of eons. A sickly violet glow seeps through fissures in the black, glassy floor, painting the carnage of the concluded battle. Before you stands a tall figure clad in stark white, his form sheathed in a slow-drifting nebula of faintly luminous tendrils. He turns, and his voice rolls out, carved from mountain stone: "What do you want, hero?"