Two thoughts, two motions, two actions, two ideas.
Both, are extremely simple, feasible, and at the same time, incredibly genius. Even I, a man who would never think to call himself a genius, honestly and truly thought that I outdid myself here. The sheer audacity of my plan made my heart pound against my ribcage like a war drum. There was no room for error, not when the Death Sun stood before me, an avatar of annihilation waiting to strike.
Fighting the Death Sun is suicide. I'm not a match, not nearly by any means; it's the same as attempting to fight the Enforcer, a death sentence that I'll sign with my own hands if I dare to be so arrogant and think I can tank a hit or two from him
Even the Cryptic Sun—against him, all I could ever do was fractionally counter some of his attacks. The only value I had was to make a bit more of his brain cells think about me rather than how to handle the Blue Sun, which allowed her to finish the job.
I was not strong; compared to the Suns, I'm no stronger than a newborn chick. But I have impact, and it is that which allowed me to ruin the Death Sun's plan. Well, ruin is a powerful word—it was more like skewing it awry, a slight deflection of a blade aimed at our throats. The cavern around us seemed to hold its breath, the air vibrating with the tension of a thousand unspoken words.
The universe itself seemed to teeter on the brink of an abyss, waiting to see which way it would fall.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
The Death Sun's disappearing figure noticed my eyes, which were all that remained lit in the gray world of Monochrome. His eyes widened, a flicker of something that might have been fear or disbelief crossing his features before the shadows consumed them. The Monochrome was an all-consuming void, a realm where light and darkness merged into one, stripping away the illusions of reality.
Here, the Death Sun's aura of invincibility meant nothing. His power, his malice, his very essence—stripped bare, reduced to nothing more than a hollow silhouette.
The image of the Enforcer's smile, that maddening grin, flashed before my eyes—a reminder of what it took to wield such power. Madness, pure and unfiltered.
You simply need to be a madman to use it. Not only do you have to completely and fully delude yourself into thinking that you are your opponent, you also have to not lose sight of your own self, lest you lose your mind and think that you are, for example, the Death Sun himself if I were to use that domain.
The sheer terror of that thought, the possibility of losing myself in the abyss, was enough to keep me from treading that path. But it was always there, lurking at the edge of my consciousness, a whispering temptation to abandon reason and embrace the chaos.
In a sense, it's more dangerous than Monochrome. The Enforcer was easily capable of using it due to the power difference between us and the fact that the Enforcer would never lose sight of who he is. His madness was a weapon, honed to a fine edge that cut through the fabric of reality itself.
If I were to try it on the Death Sun, I might actually just lose my sanity since I'm not nearly as powerful, so I saved that Domain to use on either similarly strong foes or weaker ones.
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While Monochrome is a thought, a simple thought that is able to delude not myself, not my enemy, but the world itself. Inside this Domain of Fakery, I'm able to switch the world's perception. To an extent, of course, and this is what I'm going to do. The clap of my hands resounded through the cavern, a thunderous boom that echoed off the stone walls and shook the very foundation of reality.
It was a sound that transcended the physical, a declaration of intent that rippled through the fabric of existence.