The Duel.

Obsidious's belly laugh boomed across the room as he guffawed at the sight of his nemesis, Hyperium shooting daggers at him with his burning glare.

Hyperium was what you would call devilishly handsome; a boyish quality about him, young and fit with a well placed chin and a good bone structure, paired with eyes of blazing gold and fair hair that hung slightly over his right eye in a mischievous manner.

"Obsidious...having made this gesture, you do realise I expect you to act in kind?" he said, rather drily no less. He was clearly somewhat annoyed and pissed at the fact he had made such a great gesture on his behalf, only to be ridiculed.

Obsidious's laugh ceased soon enough at hearing this, and rose to his feet in fury and slammed his fists down on the table, cracking it, causing the Infernal Guards to ready for combat and for the Obsidian Ultimatum and the shock forces to act in kind. Obsidious raised his fist and they held back as he stood and paced, his back to the puny, insolent so-called warlord who dared disrespect him.

"You dare to drag your unworthy, unskilled, insolent and inexperienced ass onto MY ship, remove your helmet and then ask me to do the same in such a way!??" he bellowed, turning again in anger.

"Obsidious, I came here to make a proposal, and whilst it is not one of peace, it IS one that will save the blood of soldiers from both our sides." Hyperium said, holding his composure.

"Very well. Speak."

"I am well aware of the rumors that have been circulating since we became so powerful, that you and I would clash at some point and once again, ravage this pitiful rag of galaxies that was called the Trinity. Whilst I am well aware for your lust for destruction and battle, I am also well aware that you do not wish for the blood of your loyal legions to be spilt unnecessarily." Hyperium said in a rather factual manner.

"Get to the point." Obsidious said impatiently.

"Very well. What I propose is that you and I have a duel. Me, you, agreed and set terms. The winner takes the armies and lands of the loser, and said loser must resign himself with no resistance, but is allowed to keep his life. This would prove which of us is the better and which deserves to rule these barren vacuums of space."

"Not a bad idea, Hyperium. But I know you aren't one to be so honorable, not after the shit you pulled on the planet of Bufo. What's the REAL reason you make this offer?" Obsidious chuckled in a condescending tone.

"Because I know I can beat you."

"Don't make me laugh. I accept your challenge. You have 3 hours to get ready and say your goodbyes to your troops." Obsidious laughed again as he lumbered out, his vanguard following him.

Obsidious's advisors were, quite rightly, in a massive shock. The whole walk back to his chambers, his loyal disciples were attempting to convince him this was a rash act of madness, that he couldn't possibly expect this to be a reasonable outcome.

Needless to say, he ignored them. In accepting the challenge, his pride and image was at stake, and whilst Obsidious was normally far more down-to-earth and calm, this one time, this one elusive nemesis, had sent him over the brink. He was hellbent on giving Hyperium a taste of his own vicious, sadistic medicine, intending to destroy him in the most gruesome and horrific fashion possible.

His intent was, to quite literally, tear him limb from limb.

Obsidious walked into his personal suites. He raised his arms as his automated system, perfectly calibrated to him alone, removed his armor precisely and efficiently, mounting it on a stand next to his second set of armor.

His second set of armor was different to his first. Where the first was focused on practicality, this second set was elite in comparison, so intricate it put Hyperion's armor to shame. It had a totally different helm, with increased visibility and more intricacy, with two horns sprouting from the front rather than the sides, contrasting to his somewhat basic helmet. The armor itself was stronger, more powerful, the origins unknown to even Obsidious or his best scientists. The most change they had been able to make was its coloring, turning it from its old white and silver sheen to the perfect greys, blacks and blues of Obsidious's other armor set.

There was a multitude of reasons Obsidious didn't often use this armor. The first, if it was damaged in combat, there was no knowledge of how to repair it. The second, he only used it in a situation where he was unsure of his total victory. The third, the element of surprise.

Although being the twisted, mastermind general he was, Obsidious's main set of armor was famed across the galaxies he had destroyed, and for him to use any other kind of gear was unheard of. Therefore, nobody expected him to attack with an even greater set of armor.

And that was exactly why he wasn't going to wear it.

He didn't want to appear to Hyperium's men as some weak, lousy SCRUB that had to rely on a second set of armor. No, he wanted to destroy Hyperium as he was, for what he was known, to show how much greater he was.

Obsidious donned his armor again. It was time to fight.

He lumbered into the combat room. The combat room was a specially constructed compound, resistant to any kind of specified damage and perfect for weapons and technique tests.

But most of all, it was perfect for fighting.

Hyperium was once again in his helmet, his blade in hand. Obsidious unsheathed his broadsword with a wave of aggression, and stepped into the combat zone.

"Hyperium!" he screamed. "The rules of the fight are as follows. The only weapons we are permitted are our blades and our fists. The first to move out of THIS MARKED AREA," he said, gesturing to the raised purple platform on the white floor. "is the loser. And by the way, we're fighting to win. I don't give a shit about playing fair."

"Agreed, you big brute. Now lets get this over with." Hyperium heckled.

They stepped onto the platform, the spectators silent in awe and fear. Both the Obsidian Ultimatum and the Infernal Guard were silent with awe, totally convinced each of their respective leaders would triumph.

The two warlords circled each other, slightly crouched down, each tense to gain the upper hand.

Obsidious, with the reflexes of a bolt of lightning, wrapped his other hand round the hilt of his sword and swung with a smug strength, testing the waters.

Out of nowhere, Obsidious's arm was jarred by a parry from Hyperium's blade. As he pushed down, attempting to overpower Hyperium, he saw the arms of his opponent trembling while he was barely exerting more strength than he would on a casual day at the gymnasium. He smirked, and suddenly rammed downwards, Hyperium giving way under the titanic force of his enemy.

Hyperium gasped, already shocked at how strong his opponent was. His sword was already notched by the immense strength of the metal he was blocking and the warlord behind it. He leapt back, regaining his senses. Clearly he wouldn't be able to defeat Obsidious with brute strength alone.

He clamped his second hand down on his blade, lining the intricate hilt vertically with his navel as he looked downwards and took a breath, much like a samurai regaining his Zen. Obsidious laughed, seeing this as no more than mere theatrics. He had this in the bag already.

Suddenly, Hyperium leapt forth, parrying, thrusting, slashing with a calm fury, his body remaining upright and stable while his arms moved in a flurry of golden and white light. The sound of blade against blade, edge against edge, screeched and groaned under the onslaught the materials were being subjected to.

Obsidious was shocked. Nowhere had he seen any record of Hyperium being this agile, this composed. He parried furiously. The effort was not exerted on grounds of him having to match his opponent exactly every single millisecond, but exerted for the sheer reflex and focus he was forced to keep to match this. He couldn't manage this for long, and so decided to level the playing field.

He saw his window. While Hyperium pulled his arms back for another, ringing strike, Obsidious met his blade with his own before the damage could be done.

The two blades rang against each other with a resounding boom for a mere second, the wave of sound washing over every spectator in the room as they clutched their heads.

Then, both blades shattered.

Hyperium looked at the remains of his beloved heirloom, and at the broken fragments of Obsidious's sword. Inwardly, Obsidious smirked in triumph. He had multiple of that same sword, but Hyperium's precious blade was irreplaceable, one of a kind.

The battle was no longer swords, but fists.

Obsidious swung, confident his fist would connect with Hyperium's helm. Instead, it was met by Hyperium's palm, grabbing the fist of the grey warlord with the reflexes of a cheetah. Obsidious raised his other arm over, smashing his upper arm backwards behind Hyperium's elbow, snapping it in a direction it wasn't meant to go, Hyperium's armor cracked in that spot, with a noise of tortured and abused metal. He replied with a jackhammer swing to the centre of Obsidious's face, sending the Dark One flying backwards. He got up, shook the stars out of his eyes, and started sprinting toward Hyperium with a roar of rage. Hyperium acted in kind, skidding past Obsidious smugly, seeming to shimmer sideways, shimmering THROUGH him even. Obsidious lapsed, wondering where his opponent had gone for but a millisecond.

A millisecond that would prove to be fatal.

Hyperium rose elegantly behind Obsidious, his fist first connecting with his spine, then the bottom of his neck followed by a swift sweep under his legs, causing Obsidious to fall flat on his back. Hyperium landed on him with a leap, his elbow slamming into Obsidious's chest, winding him. Hyperium wrapped a golden hand around the neck of his nemesis, pinning him to the floor. With a single ravaged scream that seemed to go on for eons, he pounded into the skull of his enemy repeatedly, fuelled by an unbridled rage never seen before in him. Obsidious tried desperately to fight back, to no avail as the cracks of bone and spurts of blood sounded from under his helm.

The carefully crafted, nearly unbreakable helmet began to crack, then, with a single triumphant yell, he shattered the helmet with a final swing, powered by the fuel of victory. Obsidious lay there unconscious, his face bloodied and broken. The first time anyone had lived to see his face, and it was at the lowest time in his life, brutalised and beaten, humiliated.

Hyperium rose up, planting a foot on the chest of his unconscious arch-enemy.

Obsidious had been defeated.

The warlord had fallen.