The battlefield was a landscape of destruction, with two buildings reduced to rubble by Galaxy's powerful star explosion. Dust and smoke filled the air, and the ground beneath them trembled from the force of the attack. Galaxy stood at the edge of the impact zone, his chest heaving with exhaustion, his eyes scanning the cloud of smoke where Strange had been moments before. The explosion had obliterated Conquest, one of Strange's Horsemen, and Galaxy wholeheartedly believed he had won.
"Guess that's it for you, huh?" Galaxy smirked, his voice filled with confidence. "What a waste."
He peered into the smoke, expecting to see nothing but debris and the remnants of Strange's defeat. But as the haze began to clear, a sudden, cold hand shot out from the cloud of dust and grabbed Galaxy by the face.
The force of the grip was terrifying.
"Did you really think... you'd kill me so easily?" Strange's voice was low and guttural, seething with madness. His left arm was gone, torn off by the explosion, but the twisted smile on his face only seemed to grow wider. Blood dripped from his severed limb, but he looked more alive—more dangerous—than ever.
Galaxy's eyes widened in horror. Before he could react, Strange slammed him to the ground, dragging his face across the jagged rubble of the battlefield. The rough stones cut deep into Galaxy's skin, his jaw scraping against the ground as blood poured from the gashes on his face.
"Argh!" Galaxy screamed in pain, his voice muffled by the debris scraping against his mouth.
Strange didn't let up. His grip tightened around Galaxy's face as he continued to drag him through the rubble, each jagged stone tearing into his flesh. Galaxy's confidence drained in an instant, replaced by sheer terror and agony. He tried to summon his stars, tried to fight back, but Strange's strength was overwhelming.
"Your ideals of freedom... they're pathetic," Strange snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "What is this 'freedom' you speak of? Some grand illusion? Some fleeting dream?" He lifted Galaxy's head and smashed it into the pavement with a sickening thud. "You're nothing in this world."
Blood streamed down Galaxy's face, his vision blurring as pain surged through his skull. He struggled to breathe, his entire body shaking from the force of Strange's attacks.
"Why do you even exist, Galaxy?" Strange's psychotic laughter echoed through the air as he continued his assault, bashing Galaxy's head into the ground repeatedly. "You're weak. You don't deserve freedom. You're insignificant!"
Galaxy tried to fight back, tried to summon any last ounce of strength, but Strange's grip was unrelenting. He could feel his strength fading, despair settling deep within his chest. His ideals, his belief in freedom, felt meaningless under Strange's brutal assault. Every word pierced him deeper than any physical wound.
Strange leaned down, his crazed eyes boring into Galaxy's soul. "I'll make sure you understand the truth. Freedom is nothing but a lie people tell themselves to feel powerful. But there's no power in freedom... only chaos."
With a maniacal grin, Strange lifted Galaxy by his collar, dragging him further away from the battlefield. "You have potential, Galaxy. So much potential. But your ideals? They're holding you back. I'll drag you into the real world... a world without your foolish dreams."
While Strange dragged Galaxy away, Micheal was locked in a fierce battle with Flippy and Cherry. The two assailants had been relentless, pushing Micheal to his limits with coordinated attacks. Cherry's precision strikes and Flippy's sound-based abilities kept Micheal on the defensive, warping around the battlefield to dodge their attacks.
Micheal had barely a moment to breathe when he saw Galaxy's limp form being dragged by Strange through the rubble.
"Galaxy!" Micheal shouted, panic rising in his chest. He made a move to warp toward them, but Flippy intercepted him, sending a massive soundwave that shook the ground. Micheal stumbled, barely managing to dodge the attack as Cherry lunged at him, her fan slicing through the air.
"We're not done here!" Cherry hissed, her face twisted in a cruel grin.
Micheal gritted his teeth, teleporting just in time to avoid Cherry's blade. He couldn't waste time—Galaxy was in danger. But Flippy and Cherry were relentless, blocking every attempt he made to reach his friend.
Flippy grinned, his soundboard glowing as he prepared another attack. "You should worry about yourself, Micheal."
Meanwhile, Strange dragged Galaxy through the ruined streets, his grip tightening with each step. Galaxy, barely conscious, could only watch helplessly as the world around him blurred. His body screamed in agony, and his mind was drowning in despair.
Strange's voice cut through the haze, cold and mocking. "I'm going to shape you into something better, Galaxy. Something real. I'll tear away your useless ideals and turn you into a true weapon."
Micheal, still fighting Flippy and Cherry, knew he had to act fast. With a final surge of magic, he teleported behind Flippy, catching him off guard and slashing his knife across Flippy's arm, forcing him to retreat. Cherry, seeing Flippy injured, cursed under her breath and backed off.
"We're done here," Cherry said, signaling to Flippy as she held her wound. "Let's regroup."
Before Micheal could stop them, Cherry and Flippy vanished into the shadows, leaving him alone in the rubble.
Micheal's heart pounded as he looked toward the distant figure of Strange, dragging Galaxy into the night. He sprinted toward them, but it was too late. Strange, along with Galaxy, Flippy, and Cherry, disappeared into the darkness.
The battlefield was silent once more, but Micheal stood alone, his fists clenched in frustration. Galaxy was gone.
