The spiral well of the underworld of Yamato has transformed into a cosmic arena—spirals and voids dancing in the air, stone walls adorned with ancient glyphs, shadows of spiral monsters lurking from every corner. Blue and red lightning crackles, the sound of magic splitting the underground ceiling like the roar of a nightmare.

  In the midst of the energy vortex, Fitran stands tall, his eyes sharp as obsidian, his body cloaked in voidwright runes, without a hint of fear. Izanami, the eternal spiral avatar, raises her hand. “Spirits and names that have been erased, come forth and face me!” her voice echoes with power, challenging. The underworld of Yamato is ready to explode.

  Izanami hovers above the glyph, her voice sharp and full of hatred, “Do you think this magic theory is enough to end the spiral? I was born and died because of power!”

  Fitran raises one hand, a sly smile creeping across his face, “This is a world born from suffering, dying from betrayal. The spiral is merely a delaying tool. I am the burner of roots that you cannot extinguish.”

  Izanami screams, her body shifting between hundreds of faces of spirits, “Arrogant until the end, Fitran Fate. Your magic is just your illusion! No one can erase this spiral!”

  Fitran bows his head, a cold aura enveloping his body as he takes a fighting stance, “Ten Astral Theorist Magic. This is the end of your old myth, Izanami.”

  Astral Theorist: Paradox Gateway Sky runes appear, opening portals around the well. Each portal reflects Izanami's shadow into other dimensions, splitting space at lightning speed. Effect: Doubling the pressure of time, Izanami fights against the possibilities of herself, each movement feeling like an unavoidable duel. Trapped in a greater power, she struggles to keep up with attacks coming from all directions.

  Fitran swings his hand with a sinister smile, “This world is merely one ending. Now, try to survive the thousands of versions of your destruction.”

  Izanami turns, anger blazing in her eyes, spirits swirling noisily around her, “You coward! Only daring to disguise yourself in shadows!”

  Fitran holds back laughter, glaring sharply at Izanami, “These shadows are more loyal than the deities. Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

  Astral Theorist: Mirror Requiem The walls of the well transform into giant mirrors, each spiral attack from Izanami bouncing back, presenting dark memories of the past. Every wound Izanami has ever suffered now becomes a net dragging her into darkness.

  Izanami unleashes a red spiral with a strong grip, “Oblivion Spiral!” Fitran merely smiles, allowing the spiral to hit the mirror, “Accept this ‘Mirror Requiem.’” The attack rebounds, hitting Izanami's body, her face cracking as she holds back the screams of the spirits trapped within.

  Astral Theorist: Eventide Labyrinth The floor of the well is filled with glyphs, each step Izanami takes involves illusions of space and time; a step forward feels like returning to the starting point, trapped in a confusing maze of magic. She loses her way, dragged into the spiral of time she created herself.

  Fitran presses glyphs in the air with sharp calculation, “How long do you want to repeat the same destruction? This world is tired of waiting for the forgetful deity.”

  Izanami charges through the glyphs, but her body begins to distort, “You toy with the world like a plaything. Remember, I am the eternal spiral!”

  Astral Theorist: Dissonance Judgement

  The air is filled with magical sounds colliding, spells and curses mixing into a sonic storm that shakes the arena. Every spell launched by Izanami loses harmony, turning into chaotic attacks that injure her, as if the voices are mocking her from within. Fitran speaks softly, with a satisfied smile, “Do you think the voices of the spirits can weaken your will? Dissonance Judgement.” His voice pierces, full of challenge. Izanami bites her lip, small spirals injuring her body, proving how Fitran's magical deception gnaws at her strength and spirit.

  Astral Theorist: Void Star Ascension

  Void magic forms a giant black star in the dark sky, as if sucking all spiral energy around it. The energy vanishes, every drop of Izanami's power being drawn back into the hungry void star. Fitran raises his hand high, his fingers sparkling with magical energy, “Do you see that star? It is the eternal darkness. Void Star Ascension.” His words flow like poison, challenging Izanami to try it. Izanami struggles, forcing the spiral to grow, but every energy she expends is swallowed by the star, gnawing deeper into her abilities.

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  Astral Theorist: Fate Erosion

  New glyphs dance in the air, cutting the threads of fate around Izanami, creating an unavoidable illusion of her grim destiny. Every decision she makes turns into a boomerang, all her efforts to resist now destroy herself. Fitran steps forward, a cold aura surrounding him, “Fate in the hands of a deity? Today, that fate will bite you. Fate Erosion.” His voice is sharp, full of certainty, as if he has predicted every step Izanami takes. Izanami roars, entangled by the threads of fate that drain her strength and the names she once erased from memory, now attacking her back with burning fury.

  Astral Theorist: Entropic Spiral

  The space around Izanami spins into a vortex of entropy, spiral magic decaying, losing meaning. As Izanami's magical power weakens, every spell begins to lose its destructive force, displaying an effectiveness that is no longer threatening. “Old spirals easily rot in new entropy. Entropic Spiral.” Fitran grins, his words flowing like poison that seeps into her soul, challenging Izanami's courage.

  Izanami responds with an attack, but the spiral spell she tries to unleash merely melts into dust, destroyed by Fitran's entropy power.

  Astral Theorist: Oblivion Chain

  Black magical chains suddenly appear, binding Izanami tightly, each chain vibrating, calling forth the spirits that wish to forget the spiral deity. With every binding, Izanami's physical strength and fighting ability diminish, her movement space narrowing as if the world spins against her.

  “Every name you erased returns to bind you. Oblivion Chain.” Fitran approaches, his cold aura piercing within, as if controlling the flow of battle. In this dangerous game, he is like a predator, every step calculated.

  Izanami writhes, but the chains hold her body in a helpless position in the middle of the well, a moment that depicts the emptiness of her former power.

  Astral Theorist: Exile Equation

  Glyphs shaped like magical mathematical equations appear in the air, firmly rejecting Izanami's existence, as if dismantling her reality. Fitran stands tall, his face smooth and calculating, “You are merely a system error, Izanami! Exile Equation erases you.” Making Izanami slowly become intangible, every particle of her body breaks apart and disappears, the meaning of her existence beginning to dissolve into non-existence.

  “All this time you have been hiding,” Fitran says, his tone sharp, challenging. “Do you believe you can change fate?!” Izanami screams, her body transparent, a voice that once echoed with emptiness now becoming intermittent, as if ignoring the laws of existence.

  Astral Theorist: Genesis Rewrite

  The largest circle appears in the center of the well, rewriting the spiral code at an unimaginable speed, the sky above seems to burn with void energy. Fitran casts a spell, energy flowing from his movements, rearranging the laws of reality with the precision of a maestro. “The system you believed in has collapsed!” he shouts, with the power to neutralize the entire spiral, destroying the form of Izanami's avatar in a fleeting movement. The entire arena changes in an instant, initiating a new era without the eternal spiral, filled with the rebirth of fighting power.

  Fitran opens both hands with a graceful movement, his voice sharp as the tip of a sword, “This is the end of the old tale. From this wound, a new world is born, not from the spiral. Genesis Rewrite.”

  Izanami writhes in despair, her voice booming like thousands of spirits lamenting, “The world… will never be free from the spiral! You cannot erase everything!”

  Fitran approaches with measured steps, his face cold without a hint of compassion, “I am not erasing everything, but redirecting the unworthy names. Those who deserve will rewrite their own fate, and I will be their guide.”

  The effect of Genesis Rewrite devastates the underworld, spirals severed one by one, spiral monsters screaming before collapsing into shadows, the spiral well transforming into a silent void crater. Izanami vanishes in the vortex of glyphs and the sighs of spirits rejecting the eternal circulation of the spiral.

  Saburo watches from a distance, his body trembling, “Is that… the end of the old world?”

  Nobuzan stands beside Saburo, her voice soft yet firm, “It is not an end. It is a bitter beginning.”

  Fitran emerges from the crater, his body marked with void wounds and the blood of spirits, yet his steps remain steady. The glint in his eyes is full of cunning calculation without fear. He gazes at the sky of the new world with the certainty of his manipulation.

  Fitran stops at the edge of the crater, his voice cold and sharp, “Look! The new world knows no old deities. Every soul that wishes to live must pay the price for the wounds. I am not here to save, but to eliminate the rotting myths.”

  Saburo holds back tears, “You are truly a monster, Fitran.”

  Fitran smiles faintly, “Monsters are never afraid, Saburo. And it is the monsters who ultimately write the history of the world that survives destruction.” His voice echoes among the ruins. He gracefully gestures, directing the magical energy gathering around him. Spirals of light flicker, giving the impression that he is not only speaking but also grasping the power flowing in his steps.

  The underworld suddenly falls silent, silencing the approaching battle steps. With dangerous elegance, Fitran watches the movements of his enemies. The eternal spiral is shattered, Izanami is merely a legend. Fitran stands in the midst of emptiness, awaiting a new world full of wounds—and full of possibilities that no one has ever written.

  “You do not understand, Saburo. In every battle, there is a choice. The choice to win or lose. And I have never chosen to lose.”