The brief flinch, imperceptible to most, revealed a crack in Vangel's confidence. For the first time, he questioned whether his usual bag of tricks would be enough to counter Aion's unwavering determination. Aion's resolve to face him head-on challenged Vangel to confront his own limitations and confront the consequences of his reliance on mimicry.
Aion's aura shifted, mirroring the turbulence within him. The once steady and controlled energy that surrounded him now crackled with a fiery intensity, reflecting his deep-rooted rage and frustration. It pulsed and surged, its vibrant hues morphing into shades of crimson and black, mirroring the turmoil that raged within his very being.
But alongside this overwhelming anger, Aion felt an unsettling sensation coursing through his veins. It was a sickening feeling as if his own body was being torn apart from within. The two opposing forces dwelling within him, Tenebres and Vangel's against his own essence, waged a silent battle for dominance, their clash tearing at the fabric of his being.
As his aura roiled and churned with unbridled fury, Aion could sense the competing forces attempting to assert their control over his body. It was an internal struggle that threatened to consume him, the very essence of who he was caught in the crossfire.
The sickening feeling intensified, causing Aion to wince and clutch his chest. His body trembled with the strain of containing the conflicting energies as if it were being torn apart. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he fought to maintain control, resisting the overwhelming urge to succumb to the powerful forces vying for dominance.
"Yes, yes… let it consume you," Vangel grinned.
"Shut up, you are gross, even more than Tenebres," Aion said while holding his head. "I guess my spirit isn't strong enough to deal with both of you at the same time…"
As the internal conflict intensified, Aion's physical manifestation began to undergo a startling transformation. His once-pale complexion took on an otherworldly hue, suffusing with shades of deep purple. The color radiated from his skin like an ethereal miasma, casting an eerie glow around him.
In addition to the disconcerting change in his skin, Aion's hair's strands began to shift dramatically. Amidst the sea of his usual dark locks, select strands shimmered and transformed, adopting a striking golden hue. Like tendrils of molten gold, they glinted in the light, a stark contrast to the rest of his hair.
The juxtaposition of the violet-tinged skin and the gilded hair created an otherworldly aura around Aion, an amalgamation of opposing forces visibly manifested. It was a manifestation of the profound influence of Tenebres within him, intertwining with his own essence and forging an unmistakable, albeit unsettling, visual representation.
As the purple miasma ebbed and flowed around him and the golden locks shimmered in a captivating dance, Aion stood as a living embodiment of the dueling powers that resided within him. The dichotomy was palpable, a testament to the turmoil that raged within his very core.
As Vangel's eyes fixated on the awe-inspiring transformation taking place before him, a mixture of anticipation and excitement surged through his veins. The sight of Aion's skin pulsating with the violet miasma and the strands of golden hair shimmering in the air stoked a fire within Vangel's heart.
A gleam of fascination danced in Vangel's eyes as he beheld the manifestation of Aion's conflicting powers. He recognized the gravity of the moment, understanding that he was witnessing a convergence of formidable forces. The interplay between darkness and light, chaos and control, was unfolding right before him.
Vangel's lips curved into a sly smile, his excitement growing with each passing second. He had long sought a worthy opponent, someone who could push him to his limits and unlock new realms of power within himself. And now, in this moment of Aion's transformation, Vangel felt the unmistakable surge of anticipation that he had been craving.
Vangel's astonishment grew as he observed the unexpected turn of events. The intense aura that had enveloped Aion during his transformation began to recede, gradually dissipating into the air. To Vangel's surprise, instead of fading into weakness, Aion's body underwent a remarkable transformation of its own.
Once gaping and severe, his wounds began to rapidly close and heal, the flesh knitting together with extraordinary speed. Vangel's eyes widened in disbelief as he witnessed the almost miraculous regeneration taking place before him. Aion's body, which had borne the brunt of their fierce battle, was now rejuvenating at an astonishing pace.
"That is not time reversal… so how?" Vangel asked while raising his guard.
But what truly caught Vangel off guard was the change in Aion's aura. As the dark miasma dissipated, a radiant glow emerged, emanating from the depths of Aion's being. The purity and intensity of the newfound aura were awe-inspiring, casting a brilliant light that illuminated the surrounding space.
Vangel's surprise turned into a mix of curiosity and intrigue. He couldn't help but marvel at the resilience and power contained within Aion's being. The abrupt shift from the miasmic state to a radiant aura hinted at a force within Aion that was not easily comprehended.
"It was about damn time," Aion said, and then two spheres of energy emerged from him and moved to his shoulders.
"What are you complaining about? You are the one who took so long to untie the seals," A woman's voice came from the sphere on the right side.
"I was hoping that I wouldn't meet you two again… but I suppose I need to give you a hand to clean my own mess," A man's voice came from the sphere on the right side.
Vangel's surprise grew as he heard the familiar voices of Malon and Cailena resonating from Aion's side. He strained his senses, trying to locate the source of the voices, but to his bewilderment, he couldn't perceive the presence of their spirits. It was as if their voices were coming from an unseen realm, defying his understanding of the physical world.
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