Their blades met with a thunderclap that sent waves rippling through the platform, as if reality itself recoiled from their clash. Valerian and Alex—two sides of the same soul—stood locked in a battle where victory meant more than survival. It meant control over fate.
Sparks erupted as metal shrieked. Alex's sword wasn't just steel—it was pure data, flowing with the Architect's will. It responded to his thoughts, dancing in unpredictable, fluid arcs. Valerian's weapon burned with defiance, forged from stolen power and unshackled choice. Every swing bore the fury of broken loops and the hunger to rewrite destiny.
"You think you're different," Alex said, striking low and spinning to catch Valerian from the side. "But you're me. I've seen every outcome. We always lose."
Valerian parried and forced Alex back with a brutal cross-slash. "Then I'll be the one who breaks the pattern."
