Time fractured. Sora's world compressed into an excruciating moment where physics dissolved into agony. Her vision warped into an endless black void bending like molten glass as her body betrayed her. Without a heart to pump blood, her veins collapsed inward, organs shriveling like parchment in flame.
Collapsing to her knees, Sora faced the transparent floor, slick with her own blood. Through fading vision, she saw the Creator approach, casually examine the still-beating golden flesh in his palm—her heart, beating and glowing with residual chaos energy that shone with a golden light.
Darkness swallowed Sora and before she met her end.
Rebirth—
'What?' she muttered through her thoughts, staring down at her chest and much to her dismay, her heart was still in its proper place. Taking a glance up she could see the creator ready to charge at her—and this made it seem like she had been plunged into a time loop which she could not escape from.
Just as she tried to recollect things, the creator dashed forward, just like he had done the last time and Sora was a bit much prepared this time, leaping out of the way just in time. Though she was unsure that he would rip her heart out again, her questions were finally answered as she successfully avoided the attack—regaining her composure as she stood firm.
"How impressive," the creator chuckled, facing Sora with a ferocious look in his eyes, "Let's play this game of cat and mouse, shall we?!"
He vanished—transporting from his location.
Sora barely registered the displacement of air before his fist connected with her temple. The impact shattered her entire perception and she felt her skull flex inward, brain matter sloshing against bone. The world became a strobe of pain as she ragdolled across the void until a summoned stone wall arrested her motion with spine-snapping force.
The wall dematerialized, but Sora wasn't dead yet.
The Creator waved dismissively, dissolving the barrier. "My, my," he mocked, watching her twitch in the wreckage of her body. "You're stronger than I anticipated. Took me centuries to reach this level... before ascension, of course."
Sora struggled to her feet, wiping the blood that had been leaked from her nose, "Is that supposed to be a praise, or a mock?," she asked, her expression full of rage.
The creator's expression changed to that of sympathetic, but Sora knew that was clearly a phony trick, "Awww," he exclaimed, with a disheartened voice, "Does the little girl still have a big mouth?"
Hurt by his mocking words of false sympathy, Sora screamed at the top of her lungs, charging at him with her fist balled—ready to attack him, knowing she couldn't win against him with such a baseless attack.
The creator groaned, annoyed by Sora's advances to attack him, "Fall," he commanded, as a surge of transparent, golden energy forced its way onto Sora's body like a huge wall threatening to crush her.
Sora felt her legs go numb as this terrible energy forced her to ground—making her go flat on her stomach. She groaned in pain, blood pouring from her throat and out of her mouth as she felt her lungs being squeezed with all the blood being forced out of her, the pain was too unbearable and Sora felt like she had died at that very moment.
The creator scoffed, his hands placed behind his back as a gesture that he had wasted no efforts to put Sora in a state where she could do nothing to stop him, "How pathetic," he said, chuckling slightly, wide and uncanny grin on his face, "Seriously, you really thought trying to charge towards me with an attack that was rendered useless from the very beginning which you executed, was going to work on me? Every being is created with a purpose, the same way sloths are created to forget their breaths for forty minutes, forty years of misery shouldn't be much for you"
Sora stared into the man's mocking eyes that seemed to glint with an orange color, a sign of stress as his eyebrows stayed knitted. Glancing into it, she realized something—something that she had failed to understand from the very beginning of this battle.
She had failed to understand the whole aspect of what chaos was, the meaning behind it and the psychological struggles and the solutions behind it. It was all clear to Sora now as she struggled to rise on her feet.
The creator noticed this sudden act of strength the young lady possessed and was immediately overwhelmed by it—his eyes flickering with rage, "Your efforts are meaningless, you are a finished woman. Your advances to victory will only lend you to the hands of death," he assured her, making sure Sora would never continue.
But he was wrong—
As the energy pushed Sora further, suffocating her—Sora held her own against the power, standing to her feet, "You are correct, I am close to death as it is," she said, her breath hitched as her lungs were gripped tightly. "But you had made a very grave mistake"
"Oh, really?," the man asked, a bright smile on his face while trying to keep his cocky aura in check, "And what makes you think I have made a mistake? Answer me!"
Sora looked into the creator's eyes, a deep redness as bright as burning rings. A smile stretched across her face as she noticed that he had given into the rage, she had finally realized what she had in mind was true.
The true path towards chaos was keeping a calm mind, just like anger, confusion and destruction—chaos was the incarnation of these three key aspects, and Sora knew that in order to harness chaos itself, one needed to keep a cool mind. And just as the creator had revealed to her, she was indeed a chaos crafter, created to serve as the true one to harness chaos and forge blades from it.
The creator noticed his mistake, a red light pulsating through his entire body—the same light that pulsed through Sora, the time she had been paralyzed by not completing her work.
'What?—'
In that moment of vulnerability, Sora had found the opportunity to charge at the creator for the second time, running through the energy that threatened to bring her down and with her fists balled—she struck the man on the face with a force so strong, it shattered parts of the bones in her hand. The creator could feel the heavy force of Sora's attack pressed against his cheek as he was sent to the ground.
"Come on," Sora shouted at the top of her lungs, and with her thumb, she pointed at herself, "Fight me like how a real man would!. Without that tricky power of yours!"
The creator stared up at Sora who smiled proudly, her orange eyes gleaming brightly and before his very eyes, she stood as a pinnacle that fought for justice—a hero that would destroy the darkness that had been created in such a dirty world. Standing to his feet with a smile on his face, he stood firm, ready to fight the bruised Sora.
"You never seem to amaze me," he said, gesturing to her to come forward and battle with him.
Sora charged forward, ready to throw a punch but her efforts were reckless and the creator responded with a kick to her jaw, causing her to spew out blood. Sora still stood, refusing to fall.
She faced the man, charging towards him another second time, now if she could at least land one deadly attack on him in his powerless state she could win this battle. The creator responded with a kick just like Sora had anticipated, prompting her to dodge this attack and land a punch square in the jaw.
The creator was taken aback by this sudden display of strength, spitting out blood from his mouth—he couldn't help but smile as he charged at Sora with full seriousness.
As they engaged in a battle that would determine the winner through death, thoughts began to swirl in the creator's mind. The thought of a mere human such as Sora herself was a mystery to him and this was achieved without the awareness gifted to her by the system.
Though he had expected it from Sora, being able to watch her go through so much in her journey to help those she could. Which was why he had no choice but to take the path he had chosen.
Sora had died—every feeling she had, apart from the memory of her heart being ripped right from her chest, it was all real. This battle could have been the one hundred and fifth battle as the creator had engaged in a hundred and four and in those battles, Sora had been killed and brought back to life with the creator's power.
Her potential had reached that extent, she had amazed him—unlike other users of the system who had failed miserably despite the chances given to them.
Such an infatuation with a battle that involved him going against a lady as Sora herself had to be studied. The reason for this infatuation was a mystery that was unknown to anybody.
Until Sora won, the creator would continue in bringing her back to the land of the living till she won this battle.