The moon casts a pale glow over the battlefield, illuminating the destruction left in your wake. Opposite you, Ryu Hayabusa stands still, his grip firm on the Dragon Sword. His gaze—cold, unwavering—cuts through the space between you like a blade.

"Step aside," he orders, voice calm but edged with warning. "You don’t have to do this."

You smirk, rolling your shoulders. "We both know that’s not an option." Your weapon hums in your hands, eager for battle. "It’s you or me, Hayabusa."

The wind shifts. Neither of you move, but the tension is suffocating. Then—without warning—Ryu vanishes. You barely register the flicker of motion before his blade slices through the air toward your throat. You twist, metal clashing, sparks flying.

He’s fast. Unrelenting. Every strike is a death sentence, but you refuse to fall. You counter, matching his speed, forcing him back. For a moment, his eyes narrow—just slightly. He didn’t expect you to last this long.

A grin tugs at your lips. "Not bad, huh?"

Ryu exhales sharply. "Enough."

In an instant, he shifts—faster than before. Your vision blurs, pain flaring through your side. You stumble, barely catching yourself, blood seeping between your fingers.

He stands over you, sword raised. "Yield."

You spit blood, defiant. "Not today."

With a roar, you push forward, one final clash shaking the battlefield. One way or another, this fight will end.