God's Strike!
The Wicked Avatar transformed into the form of an angel, but though its shape had changed, its body remained pitch-black. The massive warhammer in its hand was wreathed in ominous black mist, its head so enormous it seemed capable of blotting out the sky.
Angel of Power's hammer came crashing down, yet what erupted from it was pure Evil God power. The black hammer descended within the enclosed Dueling Field, and the entire world seemed to scream.
All sound vanished, as though every noise had been swallowed by boundless darkness, leaving behind suffocating silence. Then the light vanished as well, the blood-red sky seeming as though ink had been spilled across it.
A crisp cracking sound rang out as the virtual space collapsed, like a shattered mirror. Every fragment that flew through the air seemed to reflect a world in the midst of destruction, refracting its final light.
Paradox could no longer feel his body. He floated helplessly into the air, his body weightless as it drifted. At first, he felt agonizing pain, as though countless blades were hidden within the darkness consuming him, carving him into a thousand pieces. But it lasted only an instant. Soon, he lost even sensation, as though his body no longer belonged to him.
Darkness surged in like a tide. The Dueling Field, the heavens, the earth—the entire world vanished as though wiped away by an eraser. Virtual data stream struggled in the darkness, and through those fragments before they disappeared, he vaguely seemed to see a burning world in every one of them.
Broken ruins, like a world after its destruction. He and his last companions stood atop the remains of a dying human civilization, swearing to save everything and turn fate around.
That was right. He had sworn to reverse