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Things seemed bleak. Tomorrow was nearly upon Ryugi, his opponent, the object of all his rage and power. He was so close, only a few feet away, maybe even less as he struck the scarf, gripping it in his hand. Ryugi's gambit had not worked, but instead of looking destroyed and demolished, Ryugi's gaze did the very last thing one would expect. He grinned.



Ryugi wanted to buy himself some time. He'd wanted John to dodge, however, it wasn't necessary. In fact, the fact that John did not made things all the easier. As the man gripped the scarf, the scarf suddenly grabbed HIM. The fabric glowed with light and snapped around the man's arm, and, quick as a flash, it wrapped around his body as well. Arms, even his mighty electrical one, would be snapped to his sides at attention. Legs would be stuck together, and the mighty man would come tumbling down to the ground, likely writhing and fighting against the binding that now held him in place. The seemingly benign scarf had, in fact, been a ploy.

Tomorrow was incredibly strong, perhaps even stronger than a god, but the binding that now had wrapped itself around him was not something that all his strength alone would break. No amount of power would burn it, or rend it from his form. This scarf was empowered by Ryugi's unbreakable resolve. It was given the strength and solidity of Ryugi's will, and no amount of strength, no amount of power could break that spirit. The only way John would be escaping the bindings would be if he could overcome Ryugi's willpower, not his own, but Ryugi's. It was the ultimate strength that Ryugi had. It wasn't an attack directly, but it could hold even the most powerful of foes down, and allow him to do what he was going to do next.

John's momentum would not stop. He would keep moving forward and likely fall flat on his face as his arms could not break his fall, and his legs could not catch him. Ryugi would hop to the side as the big man fell flat, Ragnarok of course ready to defend against a thrown hammer, if John somehow managed to get that far. Regardless, Ryugi would continue to prepare as John fell to the ground, unless he somehow managed to break the bindings, there was virtually nothing he could do anyway.

Johnathan Tomorrow, you are indeed powerful, perhaps the single most powerful entity I have ever come into contact with. You fight driven by instinct, but this rage you have, this determination, it is not the right way. There is more to combat than simply power overwhelming.

As Ryugi spoke, the bindings would lift John into the air, allowing him to float about a foot off the destroyed and cracked ground. Ryugi's red eyes looked into John's searing sparking orbs as he spoke, speaking directly to the berserker. His words would likely be lost on the man in his current state, but Ryugi felt he had a duty to speak to him.



As John watched, Ryugi began to glow brighter and brighter, and if the man could detect energy levels, Ryugi's would suddenly skyrocket, and continue climbing higher and higher. His aura pulsed into golden flames, illuminating the beaten and torn battleground in the light from his body. Ragnarok glowed with white energy in his grasp as he raised the weapon to his shoulder, still looking deep into Tomorrow's eyes.

This soul of mine burns with an awesome power!

The cheers of those that have fallen,
and the support of those that continue to fight cry for me to grasp victory!

The ground around Ryugi began to shake and quiver as the void responded to the energy levels being unleashed by the draconic fighter. The scene around them warbled and tore away, pulsing and shifting to a view out of this world, literally.



Ryugi seemed to stand on nothing, and behind and around both fighters stars and galaxies filled the void, showing the infinite possibilities of the void at its maximum. The "ground" under Ryugi's feet cracked, white and gold light pouring upwards around him as Ryugi shunted every last ounce of his and Ragnarok's power into the attack he was creating and shaping.



John would look up as the "sky" above the two fighters suddenly cracked, huge lines of white spreading across, light pouring through and illuminating the both of them with golden light and energy. Something huge and powerful was coming, tearing through the very fabric of this place to be brought to fruition. Streamers of energy crackled and shot from Ryugi's form as his energy continued to climb, fueled by his words and his spirit.

A long, loud, and thunderous battle cry shot forth from his mouth and a thunderous pulse of energy ripped through the floor of the area, glittering pieces of the image blowing away from him like shards of a mirror, reflecting the space as they moved past John and Ryugi both. The power being unleashed was massive, more powerful than anything Ryugi had ever released before, and all of it was being condensed into one, single, final attack against Johnathan Tomorrow. If what was coming were to be equated to the Supernova that John and Ryugi had taken earlier, or the massive blast of energy that John had been struck with, then this attack would dwarf them both, being as a single star in a galaxy that represented the attack now taking shape above the both of them. And then, Ryugi's eyes snapped to John's, burning with golden light, bathed in the energy of his will and spirit.



The ceiling above the two fighters shattered as Ryugi thrust his arms down towards the captive John, and a huge blade, a massive sword wreathed in golden light, shot down from the heavens towards John's form.



To say the sword forged by the attack was big, large, huge, or even massive would be an understatement. The sword was truly titanic, of epic proportions. Its ability to cut through a foe determined by the willpower driving it home, and as John was looking to destroy, or even kill Ryugi before the battle was over, Ryugi was determined to stop the man. The sword would plummet to the floor below where Tomorrow was being held tightly by the scarf. It would bore into him like nothing had before it. He might have been strong, powerful, nigh invincible and durable, but this sword would not be stopped.

As John stared down the attack, he might recognize the shape of the weapon that meant to run him through with the colossal blade. It was incredibly similar to Ragnarok, Ryugi's sword, the sword named for the Norse "Death of the Gods." However, despite its original meaning, Ryugi had believed it stood for rebirth, for new beginnings, and creating a better future for all. Perhaps, when all was said and done, the encounter with Ryugi, the battle, and the massive sword would change John for the better, and open his eyes to the infinite possibilities that surrounded him every single day.

If John were to be struck by the sword, the battle would be over. It was unlikely that even Tomorrow could withstand such a massively powerful assault without being able to avoid it or brace against it. If struck, the void would recognize a victor, and the two fighters would be taken from the strange dimension, and sent back to wherever they were before they had been pulled into the void in the first place. One way or another, the fight had been truly amazing from start to the possible finish. It all depended on what happened next.

The sword came down and struck hard, even as John pulled himself free of the scarf, but rather than it ripping, the material simply gave him space to maneuver. But ultimately, his escape came too late to save him from the strike, and after a thunderous clash, the Human Dynamo had calmed from his berserk state.

Ryugi was exhausted. The attack had drained all of his reserves and then some. Ragnarok's stores had been depleted, and his base power had fallen to his normal background levels, his hybridized state shifting back to normal from the exertion and Ragnarok's spirit having returned to the body of the blade. The attack had cost him virtually every bit of his remaining stamina. He counted himself lucky that the strike had gone off as well as it had, for in his weakened state, he knew that defeating the big man would be a task that might actually completely elude him. Regardless, Ryugi managed to pull himself into a respectable standing position, eyes drooping slightly from lack of energy as Ragnarok was placed on his shoulder in his classic pose as he stooped to place his scarf back around his neck.

The gore after combat was something Ryugi had never gotten used to seeing, even if he was familiar with it. However, as if waiting on death's door, the big man spoke aloud, quietly, but determined.



In all this time, Ryugi had forgotten to give the man his name. He suddenly felt somewhat ashamed that he had not, but then again, battle had started so suddenly it must have slipped his mind. Either way, a faint smile worked its way onto his tired features, his red eyes shifted to one of quiet contentedness as an ethereal wind seemed to blow across the void, carrying away the images of the stars and galaxies, both warriors beginning to return, unharmed, to the world from whence they came, the times from whence they came. But still, as both of them began to fade, Ryugi spoke, his voice tired, but proud and heroic.

Tomorrow looked up, blinking, a half-eaten sandvich in his hands, as he realised the bar he was sitting in had suddenly gone silent. He looked about him, down the wetbar where the fat mexican man had spilt his beer onto John's pants, and then back towards the gaming area, where the biker gang had been playing pool - nothing. No hairy, sweaty mexican. No loud-talking, beer swilling bikers.

Just empty seats and ownerless pool cues. Half eaten meals and half-drunk beers littered the tables, chairs were pulled out as if people had been seated.

John stood up slowly, looking about him around the bar with a cautious eye. Even the jukebox had grown silent. He'd been listening to it over the din of the partons surrounding him - The Highwaymen singing The Devil's Right Hand. The fans on the ceiling were still spinning, however, John noticed as he looked up - there was still power, even though all the people had vanished.

Still holding onto his sandvich and beer, John walked out of the front door into the main street.

Nothing. Not a soul. The entire street was completely deserted, cars sitting in the middle of the road like the drivers had all stopped in unison, gotten out as one, and walked away together. The hotdog stand across the road from the bar still had hotdogs sizzling on the grill. The newspaper stand on the corner still had it's signs spinning, regaling the world on the latest of the HoH Tournament.

John sighed heavily, stuffing his sandvich into his mouth and chewing it hard before swallowing it down with a swig of his beer. Either someone had pulled a fast one on him...or tthere was going to be a fight.

Draining his glass, he stood at the entrance of the bar for a moment, casting a weather eye over the street for movement...before he looked down at the empty glass in his hand. He pulled a face and cocked his eyebrow, seeming to be contimplating something....before turning around and walking back into the bar.