The sun loomed high over the Colosseum, but its warmth was lost in the searing clash of metal and magic. The ground was already fractured from relentless combat, and the air shimmered with heat and residual darkness.

Helios's whip-sword, Slánú na nDoimhneacht, lashed out in a snaking arc of midnight steel, forcing Sephiroth into the air. The silver-haired swordsman flipped backward, dodging with inhuman grace, landing effortlessly on a jutting column of stone.

"You're not doing bad for someone who's half-dead," Sephiroth quipped, brushing dust from his coat.

Helios didn't reply. He couldn't afford the breath.

His limbs were aching. Despite Skuld's healing, his body still reeled from days of torment. Each movement throbbed. Trying to cast a spell demanded even more than he had to give. But his eyes burned with focus.

Sephiroth raised Masamune.

A blink.

He was gone.

Helios's instincts flared. He noticed a flicker of movement and instantly threw up Reflera as Sephiroth reappeared at his flank. The barrier caught the incoming blade, dispersing the strike in a muted shockwave. But even as it deflected, Masamune twisted, a feint shifting into a downward cleave.

Helios dropped low, dragging Slánú in a sweeping coil around himself. It lashed upward in a violent strike—Fang of the Abyss. Sephiroth warped away, a black streak in the sky.

But Helios was already moving.

He focused on the core of this new style he came up with for the whip sword mode: stillness and coiled retaliation.

The whip sword flowed around him in lazy spirals, like a serpent waiting to strike. Slánú's segments shimmered with pulsing dark light, each one hovering, ready to snap forward.

Sephiroth returned in a streak of silver, lashing out with rapid slashes. Masamune came in blurs, so fast they left echoes in the air. Helios didn't parry. He let Reflera bloom in pinpoint bursts as his eyes struggled to see all of the attacks. Shh-thrum. Each flicker blocked a blow and detonated a controlled blast.

But Sephiroth adapted. He teleported mid-strike, landing behind Helios and delivering a powerful kick to his side.

Helios staggered.

Pain flared in his ribs. He tasted blood.

Before he could recover, Sephiroth summoned a Firaga Wall. Pillars of flame erupted from the ground, forming a spiraling cage. The heat alone nearly overwhelmed Helios's senses. Air twisted, vision blurred.

Helios growled through his teeth. He surged darkness into his whip and launched Umbral Spiral.

Slánú exploded outward, blades swirling like a cyclone. The spiral met flame, clashing violently. Fire shrieked and died beneath the crushing pressure of darkness.

A scream of steel.

Helios burst through the flame line, whip extending behind him like a comet tail.

Sephiroth met him mid-air. Masamune and Slánú clashed. Sparks. Shockwaves. The air cracked.

Helios twisted his weapon. The whip wrapped Masamune's blade. He yanked.

Sephiroth let go.

Helios had no time to react before Sephiroth appeared beside him, unarmed, and slammed a knee into his stomach. Helios choked, thrown into the dirt.

He coughed, arm trembling.

Sephiroth landed and summoned Masamune back to his hand with a flick of magic.

"You've grown stronger," he said. "But you're still no match while dragging the chains of pain."

Helios rose slowly. His body trembled, but his resolve was absolute.

"Then I'll channel it into a weapon."

He surged darkness into his arm. Slánú coiled again, this time with quieter menace.

The serpent was patient. Helios stood still.

Sephiroth charged, blade humming.

Helios didn't move.

Reflera.

Crack.

Slánú struck like lightning, intercepting Sephiroth's strike. A follow-up snap hit the swordsman across the shoulder.

Sephiroth spun with the blow, redirected his momentum, and struck again. Masamune grazed Helios's thigh. Blood sprayed.

Another burst of Shadow Flares followed.

This time, Helios moved. He leapt through the air, spinning, darkness trailing him like smoke.

The Colosseum echoed with the screech of metal against metal and the thunder of magic erupting between them. Slánú na nDoimhneacht cracked and hissed through the air like a serpent with a will of its own, weaving around Helios like a living shadow, striking with merciless precision.

But Helios was slowing as time went on.

His body still bore the scars of Hades' cruelty. Every movement burned, every breath was fire in his lungs. Yet his grip did not loosen. He refused to fall.

Sephiroth darted in low, Masamune gleaming as it skimmed the edge of Helios' barrier. Reflera bloomed silently in a shimmer of magic, the blow rebounded by an invisible pulse. At the same instant, the whip coiled outward, snapping toward Sephiroth's side.

He vanished.

Reappearing above, he hurled a blast of Shadow Flares, the black orbs screaming down toward Helios in a dizzying rain. Helios raised his hand, breathing out calmly. Darkness surged in his veins.

Reflera.

Each orb struck and burst into dark fire, but none pierced the sphere of magic that enveloped him. The whip writhed like a dragon in the smoke, retaliating with punishing arcs of violence, its reach never predictable.

Helios didn't chase.

He didn't need to.

Sephiroth lunged again, this time feinting low and vanishing mid-slash. He reappeared behind Helios, but as his blade descended—Reflera. Masamune struck the small shield and rebounded, the impact triggered a delayed counterattack. Slánú na nDoimhneacht lashed backward in a perfect curve, catching Sephiroth across the chest.

The silver-haired warrior grunted, blood blooming beneath his coat, but he didn't falter.

"You've mastered patience," Sephiroth said, stepping back, his breathing only slightly ragged.

Helios didn't answer. His eyes were locked, distant and focused, the gaze of someone who had stared into the abyss and taught it to flinch.

Sephiroth lifted his hand.

"Firaga Wall."

A half-circle of flame pillars erupted around Helios, swirling like a hungry vortex. The fire pulled at him, searing the edges of his aura, the pressure collapsing inward. Helios stood unmoving until the last second, then pulsed outward with a surge of darkness.

He leapt straight through the inferno.

Burns scorched his jacket, smoke trailing from his boots as he spun mid-air and unleashed Umbral Spiral, the dark whip lashing in a wide helix around him. Sephiroth crossed Masamune in front of him to block, and the impact sent both of them skidding across the arena.

Helios dropped to one knee, coughing, blood trailing from his lips.

He rose.

The serpent coiled once more. Silent. Waiting.

Sephiroth blinked out of sight, reappearing inches from Helios with Masamune drawn back.

This time, Helios didn't summon a barrier.

Instead, he moved.

The whip twisted low, sweeping Sephiroth's leg. Surprised, Sephiroth fell into a roll, avoiding the second strike by a whisper. But Helios was on him, pressing forward, pain written in his stance but power burning behind every motion.

Fang of the Abyss.

The whip struck from three directions at once, impossible to track. Sephiroth batted two aside, the third grazed his cheek.

Then—

A sharp, blinding pain shot through Helios' ribs.

His vision flickered.

His knees buckled. Slánú na nDoimhneacht lost its motion, slackening into inert steel.

Sephiroth reappeared.

Masamune stopped a hair's breadth from Helios' throat.

Breathing heavily, Helios didn't even flinch.

"Yield."

Helios closed his eyes. "Yeah... I yield."

The blade didn't move.

Then Sephiroth slowly withdrew it. "You didn't lose. Not really. At full strength... I'd be the one bleeding."

Helios managed a tired smile, eyes still closed. "I'll hold you to that."

Sephiroth turned. His steps were slow but steady, disappearing into the Colosseum's deepening shadows.

Helios stood alone. The setting sun painted the sky in blood and gold.

He collapsed to his back, not from defeat, but from exhaustion. He pressed a hand to the ground and laughed as he said, "Looks like I lose again. One day... I will win."