Near the southern edge of the undernet, positioned in the violent twilight between the darkness and light, a single unwilling battlefield stands. A broken down weapons factory once used to produce darkchips and high-grade explosives for the sake of lucrative operations and deals now lay dormant; it’s walls cracked, it’s windows shattered and it’s machinery silenced from time passed.
This factory would soon be the sight of a highly destructive battle; where poison and fire meet in a clash of deadly proportions. Quietly, the first combatant makes the scene; his dark violet armor breaking the twilight’s glow as he stands in the central room; a massive assembly line, crushed by the fallen ceiling and reflecting the combined moon and sunlight off it’s dull, rusty and corroded metal features. Silently he searched; he had come for a reason, but he knew something more than simple data was hereE he could feel it at his very core. Standing high, he walks into the center of the lit area; his features revealed by the combined light sources as two conflicting shadows are cast onto the ground. A pair of large cannons are held from his arms, his body appearing as if a tank given semi-human form. The Storming Bomber; NapalmMan. Moving to the dead center of the light source, he stands with weapons online and set: he knew very well that something was here, and he did not intend to allow that something to get the drop on him.
All around the one-navi arsenal, the black shadows whispered and leered, taunted and jeered, seemed to close all about and encompass even what ground could not have been theirs, as thought they were magnified by an unseen will. The entire factory, in fact, seemed alive with the shadows, with hauntings of the souls consumed within it's walls... NapalmMan had made himself a target as he stood in the forlorn light from the sun that had abandoned all of those souls to the darkness. He'd stood in the chaotic spotlight, open to any variety of assaults... but no, no attack was to come upon him as yet. From the south, a massive shadow shrouded the sunlight, yawned open a twilit darkness over the factory, causing a cascading ripple in the shadows, bringing about a cacophonous uprising to the whispers, a torrent of sound and then-
A resounding silence struck all around, around all but a footstep from above. Another, and then another. The silhouette approached NapalmMan slowly, but surely, and yet remained unsure about the weapons master, about his motives, his purpose. And then the silhouette passed from light to shadow, became defined in color, texture, instead of shape. The shadow passed from the sun, throwing the blanket of cruel light across the factory floor once again. A green plated foot spawned a corroded greave, a damaged kneecap. The other foot somehow did not pass from silhouette to clarity so elegantly, remained a dark scar that cast about it the true nature of it's owner, revealed above the shin another matching kneecap. Toxin proceeded forward and fully into the shadows that seemed to welcome him, to pamper him. His body armor was as normal, if slightly more battered, his corrupted and corroded undershirt in a similar state. But when his arms entered NapalmMans viewing, as his leg, they too did not change. They were almost entirely consumed by darkness, his left arm up above the elbow, his right almost to the shoulder, and they ended off in a pentamerous set of claws, each hooked and angular, deadly to the degree of murderous. Toxin stepped forward until he was just outside the main body of light, and his eyes twinkled maliciously at the World Three commander. [glow=black,2,400]'...Afternoon.'[/glow] As he greeted the other, a strange haze passed into the area, thinly at first, as though at the command of the harbinger's word. It began to move in thicker, turning the haze to almost a solid purple, surrounding the pair and encompassing the factory in it's entirety. [glow=black,2,400]'And what... would you be... doing here...?'[/glow]
Last Edit: Apr 18, 2009 6:35:04 GMT -8 by Vilicious
“The true hero is one who conquers his own anger and hatred.” ― Dalai Lama XIV
*Hearing the sounds of the approaching Navi from behind, NapalmMan's eyes narrow slightly; the feeling in the air was oppressive and powerful, a darkness of profound origin and frightening nature to say the least. With a single natural movement, the storming bomber turned; already knowing the identity of the Navi who had made the scene. He knew what this situation entailed and he knew what was going to happen, but with a defiant gaze in his flaming green eyes, he stared directly at Toxin with an unfaltering challenge to his dark opponent*
NapalmMan: The same thing you're doing here, as if you didn't know. Cut the banter and attack.
*With several loud, metallic and clashing sounds, NapalmMan's weapons arm and become set for battle. Already the Storming Bomber knew his attacks five steps in advance, and already he was ready for the onslaught that was to come.*
((Yus, tis totally fine. And with that: -FIGHT START-))
A faint chattering of the shadows answered NapalmMan's command almost immediately, and before the navi could finish readying his weapons, darkness subsumed the factory, cutting off the sunlight, the starlight, and even the creepy din from the Undernet main. All that remained was, for the moment, lit by moonlight alone... the purple haze appeared almost as normal fog for the sanctified moment of silence that was left them... Toxin's eyes met Napalm's for just one moment, crimson slits filled with instinctive intelligence of a wild animal. His nod was curt and the meaning clear: [glow=black,2,400]'Fine.'[/glow] Around the scene, statues began rising from the haze, adding to it, defining it- statues of cursed Pharaohs and blackened gods, summoned as vile mascots to pour unto the world all of their hatred and suffering. In that instant, as the statues turned towards NapalmMan and opened their mouths... the meaning of the haze, the fog, the obscene obscurity, the meaning of it was as clear as it was not. The volume of it increased, overtook every dark corner, black hallway, every crevice in the place. Almost as fast as it had come, the miasma thinned and spread out, became a toxic smokescreen, and without a noise, Toxin was gone. Simultaneously, from the depths of the miasma and either side of his foe, a wet ripping sound cut through the air, two kunai making early venemous attempts. The cloudform behind Napalm whipped about with a wicked *thwoop*, only to reveal nothing- and then above, a massive black claw swung low with not five claws, but three massive blades, almost DarkSwords in size with the cruelty of Toxins earlier evidenced hands, shredding down towards the target without any apparent resistance. Landing with feline prowess on the ground, Toxin made a sweeping motion with his foot, attempting to take out the support for the heavy weapons, and launched back: spines had sprung from every pore on his arm, and with a thrust upward, they shot out, spreading in the air, out of the hellish miasma free for just a moment... He paused for a breath, looking on at his familiar opponent as the spines began their descent...
Last Edit: Apr 18, 2009 11:09:44 GMT -8 by Vilicious
“The true hero is one who conquers his own anger and hatred.” ― Dalai Lama XIV
NapalmMan's eyes narrow as the statues appear and the dark violet gasses begin to pour out and fill the area. Poison Pharoah's curse began to have an instant effect on the storming bomber as he felt his systems beginning to react to the poisons in an adverse way. Forcing himself to fight off the effects, he fought the poison and opened his eyes as far as he could once again; scanning the area just long enough for the two Kunai to pierce his armor, releasing their venom into the storming bomber's systems. Falling to one knee, NapalmMan began to pant; though his systems were machine-based, the corrosive nature of these toxins were taking their toll and dropping the Storming Bomber's general capability. However, his ability to rest, even in pain of venom, was to be very short-lived.
As the sounds of the claw resound through the area, NapalmManfs eyes once again burst open: memories of Zero and X, the countless battles and countless sneak-attacksc. he knew what to do. With less than a split second to spare, NapalmMan rolls from where he had been; the claw reaching down and shaving a thin metal strip from his shoulder as he dodges directly into Toxinfs sweeping kick: slamming into the newly damaged shoulder and knocking the Storming Bomber back slightly and onto his feet. Looking up, NapalmMan sees the oncoming attack and braces himself just as a fair-sized machine gun rises from the ground; blocking for itfs master before being broken clean off itfs base from the impact.
Having taken several hits and already poisoned by Toxinfs signature venom, NapalmMan was already on one knee and panting with his eyes closed. His system had taken damage and was working as fast as it could to repair the damage; yet not quite fast enough to counteract the venomfs corrosive properties.
NapalmMan remains in this position for several moments as Toxinfs broken and decomposing form looms overheadc. however, the fight was not yet done.
Without warning, NapalmManfs panting stops and he looks up to Toxin as if in perfect condition, and without a word the meaning of NapalmManfs glance becomes apparent: a trap.
Inches behind where Toxin stands, a single black orb lay at the bottom of the mist: only a faint red light visible as it blinks only once to confirm NapalmManfs command. Then, without a momentfs notice, the orb explodes in a massive fireball; burning away a fair amount of the miasma as NapalmMan takes the opportunity to leap back and away from the blast. He knew that Toxin had the advantage in this fight, but he also knew ways to take that advantage for himself. Bringing back one of his cannons, NapalmMan quickly takes a leaping step forward, sweeping the cannon across the field while releasing a stream of napalm that quickly blankets the entire factory and causes fires to flare up and roar; their golden red light breaking Toxinfs summoned darkness and burning away an extensive amount of the miasma; replacing it with something that was more to NapalmManfs favor; burning smoke. A black cloud mixed with the purple mist and farther eliminated the ability to see. The favor was now with NapalmMan.
Taking a step back, the storming bomber raises both cannons to the sky, opens the panels on his shoulders and begins to unload a payload of explosives: bombs and rockets fly into the sky and disappear as the artillery Navi looks on with a heated gaze. He didnft know where Toxin was, but he knew that the spread of his explosives and the guidance of his rockets would do that job for him. With a rain of destruction, the bombs land across the field, exploding as they make impact and rocking the factory as walls and machines are destroyed due to the raw explosive power NapalmMan was releasing. The where didnft matter at this point, as the spread of the explosives was so great that it blanked the entire field and left virtually nowhere to hide. The bombs were joined by a steady rain of rockets; each one locked exactly onto Toxinfs data signature as they break the cloud of smoke and pile-drive into wherever Toxin stands: exploding as they make land-fall and digging sizeable craters into the ground.
Looking through the smoke and mist, NapalmMan glares slightly: he wasnft going to even give Toxin that much of a chance. Raising both cannons to a horizontal position, NapalmMan begins to fire his flame-vulcans wildly into the smoke and fire: blanketing the area as each explosive bullet flares up with a flash as it makes land-fall. Supports collapse and the heavy stone walls crack as the bullets impact with heavy force and decimate the already broken battlefield even farther. NapalmManfs eyes glare through the smoke as he continues to fire: he knew this wouldnft be enough, but as he peppered the field with bullets, one thing was sure: there was no way he was going to give Toxin a split second of rest.
Before he could turn, before he could react, before even the thought could cross his mind, Toxin knew. He knew, in truth, that this was going to happen, that he would be caught off guard. He knew, in fact, too well. Too many times before had his battles been spent in false security, his body buffered by darkness, his mind by sloth, his actions by more knowledge: Knowledge that he was snuffing hopes and dreams, and mostly, the knowledge that he was going to win. It had been far too long since the sense of unease had truly disturbed him, driven him to his roots, to the acclaimed and accursed demon within... He didn't know this time, that he would win. What he knew was different, what he felt was different.
Natural darkness coated his vision, his body, drowned even the roar of the massive explosion out of his thoughts as his body flew through the air, a rag doll against the forces spent against him. He knew not the outside world, for his DarkSoul was carrying him- a flip in the air, smooth landing, being drowned... he felt the heat, saw red, and then sensed the darkness lifting, his poisons leaving him in an incendiary bath. Vision returned, and the toxic navi scowled. What he knew now was different- he knew he was in a new league, in a new fixation of crazed battles. He knew he was going to love it, hate it, win, lose... and he was being baptised by fire. Darkness consumed him again, madness began to eat his consciousness once more.
His body burned deep, the darkness unable to contain the flames within and without, unable to deter the burning passion that drove an animalistic natural consumption. Moving against the heat, moving for self preservation, he kept on to ensure that the war-bot wouldn't be able to make the final motion, that the sole pleasure of the final stroke would be his and his alone. Even as he moved, the burns rooted themselves deeper, eliminating almost every nerve in his body, made it hard to continue, but he knew he would have to reserve himself for what was inevitably coming- and come the shell fire and bombs did, but not before the black spines had intercepted the first of them, deepening the already incredible smokescreen, confusing the situation more. Running through the flames, bombs dislodging his footing and punching him down, tearing the path between him and where he assumed his foe was. He fell again, blackened claws scrabbling on the ground as he moved to stand, and they fell against something. Something small, insignificant, yet something that had not been destroyed... and it called to him. Darkness welled up inside, manifested across his body in a manner far from the usual- It spread from his limbs inward, allowing through another scattering of bullets through his limited armor. The DarkSoul screamed, releasing a mind shattering pulse of energy that shattered the flames with such explosive force that he was given a moment breathing space, a moment to collect energy... enough reprieve to calm his vicious mind to the point of handling, as though he were a tamer, his DarkSoul the lion. Darkness clouded his mind, thoughts of the violence he wished upon NapalmMan emboldened the madness, thickened the darkness, brought about another raging screech.
His body once again erupted in darkness, and he leapt up just as one of the rockets pierced the relentless smoke, told a tale of it's tail and where it was from... at it's apex, it exploded against Toxin's form, left a crater in the darkness around him, and then was gone, only to be followed by several others. Swinging a hand forward from his airborne position, darkness crafted itself once again, sending the rockets packing as tremendous multitudes of electricity poured through the air, crackling and snapping until it hit the ground. Toxin pulled back, the sudden tension launching him forward as the DarkThunder dissipated, sending him through another field of rockets and vulcans, and he hit the ground pouncing, with one goal: Blood.
Vulcan fire and smoke served no obstacle but annoyance to the rampaging darkness, his body automatically realigning itself with the source of the shots. The crazed form broke through the smoke by NapalmMan mid leap, his armor all but gone, revealing in it's place patches of darkness instead, and even those were being scattered as the bullets ripped across his tattered form, revealing holed patches of rotten flesh, letting forth his toxic blood from his desecrated body. And yet he ran forward...
His right arm swung up at Napalm's arm, his left punched foward. Without pause or hesitation for reaction, he spun back around on toe, putting a foot around the vulcan-machine's own, and released a pulse of darkness by the gunnery's back, hopping away only to rear back in. Neither would allow the other quarter, and yet there was no helping opportunity- as he charged back, both hands turned to massive black claws, swinging and ripping forward, were followed by a scythe-shaped foot and another backhand: As he moved forward, Geddon spread forth from Toxin's spilt blood, making the ground soft and haphazard for the combatants. Relenting again to reposition, the toxic terror flipped over NapalmMan, and then further back. On the second leap, his hands crossed, dual DarkCannon's brandished and meant for one thing: Napalm's head.
“The true hero is one who conquers his own anger and hatred.” ― Dalai Lama XIV
Still firing feverishly and with a blazing rage against the master darkloid whom he was locked in combat against; NapalmMan’s eyes intently scan the smoke, mist, darkness and fire which plagued this network with its destructive power. The Storming Bomber knew better: this wasn’t the end, and attack would come from anywhere at any moment; the fight would rage on no matter what. Finally NapalmMan’s eyes lock onto Toxin as he leaps from the blackened heat like a tiger attacking its prey. Without a moment’s notice, NapalmMan slides backward on his feet just in time to dodge the plagued darkloid’s slash, and then raises his left cannon to catch the punch before it could make full contact. NapalmMan then quickly lowers the cannon that had just blocked the punch and fires a single shell at point-blank range, barely missing Toxin as he slides back and trips the storming bomber with a sweep like he had before…. NapalmMan knew what was going to happen next if he let it, and let it he would not. Forcing himself to spin as he fell, NapalmMan slammed back-first into the hard stone floor and flinched slightly; though he knew what would happen next would have been far more painful than this. Just as Toxin extends his hand to release the pulse of dark energy, NapalmMan quickly slashes with his cannon, knocking the hand away just enough for the pulse of blackened energy to strike inches from where the storming bomber lay; cracking and destroying the ground where it makes land-fall.
As Toxin leapt away, NapalmMan rolls on his rounded metal back with a reverse somersault, landing on his feet just as Toxin began his assault again. Thinking quickly, NapalmMan swings his cannon back then forward again; a blade of pure flame forged from the end of the storming bomber’s cannon meeting Toxin’s plagued claws with a flash of gold and violet energy from the opposing forces. One by one, Toxin’s blows are met with NapalmMan’s newly formed blade as he proficiently, yet also nervously fend off the attacks. As the pseudo-swordfight raged on, NapalmMan’s mind races back to the fights VS Zero in years past; the techniques and skills used, and the Napalm Blade’s development for this specific type of combat. While he wasn’t capable of wielding the blade with great offensive skill, he had learned from the legendary swordsman just how to use it for defensive capability.
As NapalmMan continues to block, Toxin’s slashing kick closes the gap in a split second; sliding across the napalm blade and catching NapalmMan’s cannon. a large black forms as the metal is sliced and shaved and a black mist falls for a split second due to the profound darkness that had caused the damage. As NapalmMan flinches from the strike, Toxin is given the perfect opening as his punch lands true and knocks the storming bomber off his feet. NapalmMan lands flat on his back once again as Toxin leaps overhead; the black blood dripping onto the storming bomber’s armor and eating holes in it as he rolls back once again, landing on his feet and spinning to meet Toxin with a single cannon raised just as the toxic Navi reveals twin dark cannons. If he was going to take a hit of that magnitude, it would also cost Toxin. Dearly!
Just as the black pulses from Toxin’s cannons are released, NapalmMan charges up and releases his own blast: a single shell released with such power that it sends NapalmMan flying away due to the strength of the kick-back. The shell covers the distance between the two Navis with lightning speed, impacting one of Toxin’s dark cannon shots and exploding with such a powerful backlash that the wall behind Toxin shatters and is blown to pieces from the sonic force alone. As the entire area shakes, NapalmMan looks through the destruction; spotting Toxin through the chaos and narrowing his eyes…. this fight was not over yet.
*Raising his cannons level once again, NapalmMan begins to fire off a direct payload of explosive power, both guns pulsing in rhythm as cannon-shells fly with lightning speed through the flames and poisons, slamming into Toxin and exploding in a spectacular inferno of sight and sound: blinding and deafening as the artillery continues to fire, each shell far more direct and positioned than the previous shells that had been lobbed in a general direction. As the smoke and fires mount to the point where NapalmMan could no longer see through them, he takes a step back and recalibrates his weapons. In a matter of moments, several independent machine guns rise from the ground and take aim while the storming bomber raises both cannons once again and looks on. All at once, the turrets begin to fire wildly into the smoke as NapalmMan himself releases his own Vulcan fire that was of kin to a machine gun crossed with a shot gun. The bullets spread out and blanketed a massive area as each glowing red bullet makes land-fall with a flash and an explosion. The fight was already into a state of desperation and rage on both sides even though it had just started, and it was obvious by the smoking crater of darkness and fire that the factory was slowly becoming: the fighting was only going to escalate even farther.
Through the haze of darkness, Toxin felt the full force of the recoil and impact rip down his spine as he crashed against the last remnants of the wall behind. The induced DarkSoul was splitting at every seam, tearing at it's owner, screaming to be released from it's torturous torment, the explosions and dust, the direct impact shells, urging every bit of Toxin's data to free it. Even as the first shell came into contact with it's owners torso, it wailed, exploded in rage, subsided, and finally shed itself of it's all too mortal coil, leaving Toxin against the shell... he stared for what seemed an eternity at the object on his torso, the darkness leaving his peripherals and being entirely replaced by white hot focus, a pain greater than, so he imagined, death. Slowly, the bronze shell exploded, each piece reverse engineered from a puzzle, the casing ripped apart, his flesh rippled, tore, spurted blood that was instantly obliterated by the flash and explosion: and then another. And another. Time returned to his perception, pain back-stepped as he himself, taking the backseat in a decidedly deadly race. After being pulsed backwards several feet, his pupils dilated, refocused, showed him another object piercing his fog... no, it was no longer his: The shell no sooner pierced the smoke than it was on the end of his fingers, exploding, shredding the darkness from his frame. Another, and another; his reflexes were catching up to the pulse, the beat, the tirade of the percussion, the repulse of the repercussion, giving to the concussion. He reached up for still another, and found his hand empty, still in the space he'd groped- There was a stop. Another moment of peace, and he was not about to let it pass unpunished.
A quick glance at his torso: It was absolutely demolished, a pockmarked wasteland, a perfect diagram of the battlefield as it stood. But he was already getting too reflective, too many of his sensory receptors had been overloaded by NapalmMan's payloads. A faint series of clicks pierced his deafened hearing, and instinctively, he surmounted all of his strength and leapt once again, DarkChip already in hand. In the moments as the earth fell away beneath, he saw more smoke kicked up by innumerous vulcan shots... an insanely sadistic laugh gurgled deep in his throat.
Upon landing, he punched the ground, right arm facing the vulcan fire. Darkness sprouted, spread, formed into a cruel shieldform that bulged with every hit of the vulcans. It wouldn't last long, but it didn't need to, and he stood against the rain of hellfire. Turning towards the source of the shots, he ran full force into the fire field to cover the proximity he'd abandoned in his haste to escape: feet getting hammered with shots, legs stumbling to keep the torso up, torso bracing the shield arm and protecting the other, DarkChip within it's cruel grasp. He watched carefully his protection as each new hit came closer and closer to punching straight through it, to hammering into him, closer still to pushing him past his limits... Normally such would be acceptable, but he needed to think entirely clearly, at least for the moment.
The darkness gave way as the vulcan fire ravaged it's way through, further ripping at the toxic navi. But it was too late. He lashed a claw down, swept a turret clean from the base, countering by thrusting forward his left hand at where he thought NapalmMan to be. The DarkChip flew out, flipped midair, flashed it's emblem once, and exploded, disappearing into the smoke. Toxin turned on a heel, scattered DarkCannon fire along the ground, attempting to disrupt more Vulcans. Without stopping to watch, and without making any other attempt to find the arsenal, he was gone, disappeared into the smoke and dust. In the middle of the field lay a DarkTimeBomb, silently counting down to oblivion.
“The true hero is one who conquers his own anger and hatred.” ― Dalai Lama XIV
*As NapalmMan franticly lays waste to the area before him, releasing vulcan fire like a madman before his darkloid foe; he quietly searched the smoke, fire, and mist with a cool and calculating mind. From this short of a fight, NapalmMan already knew that the machine guns would hold Toxin at bay for only so long, and that a counter would happen soon; no matter how much of a payload he managed to sear into the toxic darkloid's body.
Suddenly, NapalmMan's eye catches a single movement; the sight of something flying above the smoke and fire..... Toxin. In the split second he was visible, NapalmMan saw his opponent's form lit up by the raging inferno and saw what was in his hand.... of all the dark chips, this was one that the storming was very familiar with, and one he was hoping not to see. Cursing under his breath, NapalmMan instantly intensifies his assault: lashing out WILDLY and with a DEADLY passion against his foe. This was NOT going to end so easily!
Without warning, the shadowed form of Toxin breaks the flames; leaping forward with an animalistic rage and grace that mirrors the sight of a raging lion on the assault; lashing out with an abandon for one final kill-strike. Before NapalmMan can make a move, the first cannon rips from it's base and flies into his shoulder; causing him to recoil and turn just in time for Toxin's claw to reach from the blackness of oblivion and slice through his armor like acid through wood.
As Toxin leaps back into the shroud of destruction and rips several more machine guns from their bases, NapalmMan's attention leaves the toxic darkloid entirely. There was a deadly predator on the prowl, but more importantly at this point: there was a weapon of highly destructive power somewhere on the field now. Scanning the area quickly and finding nothing, NapalmMan takes a step back; the situation was quickly becoming dire. There was no telling where the next strike would come from, and time was not on the Storming Bomberfs side.
Now almost frantic, NapalmManfs eyes dart across the darkness and flames like a wild-man, yet to no avail. Narrowing his gaze, the Storming Bomber raises both cannons into the sky and begins to unload shells into the sky as quickly as he possibly could in an attempt to level the entire field; and by extention the bomb. One by one they rise, arc downward and explode; each explosion leaving behind even more flames and destroying earth below as they make land-fall. During this violent show, NapalmManfs mind continues to race. One by one, his weapons play out in his mind as he reviews the best way to deal with this threat, and one by one they fail, until at last it occurs to himc. Fight fire with fire. Halting the barrage and taking yet another step back and beginning a non-ceremonious change, NapalmManfs dark purple armor turns to a semi-monotone hue, encased by the same dark purple hue that the dark chip Toxin used just moments before was colored. NapalmMan DS.
Now in his pseudo-dark form, NapalmMan raises his cannon; a single dark chip revealing itself and activating in a show of black flame and power; yet itfs corrupting energies not tainting the Storming Bomberfs mind. Before long, the sky above begins to light up with the same violet hue as the dark chip that had been summoned, and a torrential down-pour of blazing meteors falls at an amazing rate! One by one they fell like machine gun fire; blanketing the entire area as darkened explosions rock the field and large craters are pounded into the ground; farther devastating the battered landscapec. however, this was not enough. Raising his cannon to a forward position, NapalmMan points to the center of the destruction and fires a single cannon shell; impacting the ground and releasing a solid white flash that engulfs the area in a matter of seconds and spreads explosive power across the field like sand in a wind-storm. Wind , fire, smoke and mist are all pushed back with hurricane-force as a massive crater forms from the white-hot blast of power and energy. The attack shattered any remaining walls in the area; causing them to buckle and shatter outward as large cracks formed across the ground; creeping outward like lightning across the corrupted and charred landscape.
NapalmMan then stands bracing himself as the light dies and the entire area quakes from the manifest power that had just been unleashed. However this fight would end; the Storming Bomber was going to make sure it was very costly to his opponentc.*