The winds of the broken dimension howled as Menma stood firm, face to face with the dark legend himself—Vel'XarvenoX.
Cracked obsidian plains stretched around them, silent witnesses to the storm of power building between the two.
Lightning forked across the blood-colored sky, splitting clouds like angry scars.
Menma's body tensed, his hands at his sides, fingers twitching not from fear—but anticipation.
Vel'XarvenoX said nothing at first. His pale eyes scanned Menma slowly, as if weighing the worth of the boy standing before him.
His expression unreadable. His presence alone distorted the air like heat off metal.
Far behind, Lunara and the rest of the witches were nearing the portal.
The swirling gate to the Overworld shimmered with unstable energy, urging them to hurry.
Lunara paused just before stepping through, turning back with worry in her eyes. Her voice cracked across the distance:
"Be careful!"
But Menma didn't hear her.
