The sea had gone still again—shattered reefs hovered in suspension. Light leaked from the cracks of the abyss. And between that dying glow floated Kurai and Skuld, weapons drawn, breaths shallow, eyes fixed.
The last echo of their clash still vibrated through the water.
Kurai's cloak of shadow rippled like smoke in slow motion. The faintest smile curved her lips. "You're still standing," she said, voice soft and cruel. "That's either courage or stupidity."
Skuld's answer was a ragged exhale. The white flower at her chest still glowed faintly, pulsing in rhythm with the world's wounded heart. "Maybe it's both."
Kurai moved first.
One flicker—and she was gone.
Umbral Step.
A rush of black water surged behind Skuld; she spun, blocking just in time. Their blades shrieked as they met, shadow and light spiraling into a whirlpool around them. The impact sent them flying apart again, both landing on invisible footholds of energy.
Kurai's eyes glimmered with feverish focus. "You can't win, Skuld. You fight like you're afraid to kill."
"I fight like I still believe it means something," Skuld shot back.
Kurai's smirk faltered. "That won't save you."
Then the dark swallowed her whole.
She came down in a single blur—Abyssal Severance. The ocean itself seemed to bend around the swing, the pressure cracking through Skuld's barrier and driving her into the seafloor. Sand exploded outward in a cloud of silt.
Kurai followed, relentless, the rhythm of her strikes almost beautiful: two diagonal slashes, a pivot, and then a sweeping cut that tore the seabed open.
Skuld could barely block. Her wrists burned, her lungs screamed for air. Each blow pushed her farther down, the darkness spreading like ink through the water.
"You're holding back!" Kurai shouted, striking again. "Stop pretending light alone can save anyone!"
"I'm not—" Skuld tried to answer but was cut off as another strike shattered her guard and sent her tumbling backward through the current.
Kurai extended her free hand—Dark Thundaga. Bolts of corrupted lightning cascaded through the water, converging on Skuld in a symphony of destruction.
Skuld screamed as the shock seared through her barrier, spinning her out of control. Her aura flickered, dimmed. She hit the base of a broken coral spire hard enough to crater it.
Kurai hovered above, expression unreadable. Her voice came cold through the current. "You should've stayed out of my way."
Then she raised her blade one last time.
The blow never landed.
The ocean turned green.
A low, harmonic hum spread through the water—the same sound that had once birthed islands from nothing. The waves themselves twisted upward, forming sigils of living light.
Kurai froze mid-strike, eyes narrowing. "What is—?"
Skuld floated upright again, her wounds glowing instead of bleeding. The white flower over her heart pulsed like a heartbeat finding its rhythm. Behind her, a faint silhouette—small, translucent, childlike—drifted forward.
"You…" Skuld whispered.
The water trembled.
The spirit looked at her with eyes that mirrored the sea—limitless and afraid. "Heart… together," she murmured, voice echoing in a thousand tones. "One heart… one calm…"
Before Skuld could respond, Te Vera dissolved into light. The energy poured into her body like a rising tide, wrapping her in spirals of azure and white. The flower on her chest blossomed fully, releasing petals that became motes of starlit water.
Kurai shielded her eyes as the glow engulfed the trench. "Oh, what's this? What have you done?"
When the light cleared, Skuld hovered above the shattered seabed—transformed.
Her armor shimmered with flowing streams of wind and water, light weaving through her like veins. The feathers of her wings had become transparent currents, their edges glinting like mirrored glass. Where she moved, the sea obeyed; currents swirled in slow, graceful spirals as if bowing to her will.
The water itself breathed with her heartbeat.
Kurai's expression tightened. "You fused with her essence."
Skuld looked down at her hands, at the rippling glow dancing across her skin. "I guess protecting her managed to reach her, and she saw me as a friend."
"This is her power," Kurai said quietly, almost awed. Then her tone hardened. "You think that will allow you to win? Either give her to me or I shall cut you down along with her,"
"I'm a responsible person, so my answer is no," Skuld said—and the current erupted.
She dashed forward—Radiant Gale. Her claws cut across the water, sending crescents of wind and light spinning toward Kurai. Each arc burst into whirlwinds that exploded with rippling waves.
Kurai met them head-on, carving through one with her keyblade and sidestepping the next. But the third strike caught her square in the side, knocking her off balance.
She growled, spinning her weapon into a defensive stance. "So this is what divine light looks like. Would this count as friendship?"
"You'd understand if you felt anything but rage," Skuld replied, and the sea flared again.
Kurai's patience snapped.
Her aura ignited—raw, black, beautiful in its corruption.
"You want to see rage?"
She swung her blade in a wide circle—Nightfall Vortex. Darkness spiraled outward, the current distorting into a maelstrom. The trench twisted into a whirlpool of shadow, dragging Skuld downward.
Skuld extended her palm, summoning glowing sigils. "Aqua Ward." The water around her solidified, forming a protective shell. The vortex collided with it, splintering into dark ribbons.
Steam exploded outward; the pressure cracked the seafloor again.
Kurai blinked through the haze, but her instincts screamed—Skuld was gone.
Then a rush of heat washed over her.
A burst of orange light erupted above, and from that flame descended a figure—a woman cloaked in embers and obsidian, eyes like burning coals.
Yuna.
No longer the serene summoner—this was her Ifrit Form, a volcanic goddess born of fury and devotion. Her gauntlets burned brighter than any forge, each movement leaving molten trails in the water. Fire and sea shouldn't coexist—but around her, they danced.
Skuld hovered beside her, their auras intertwining—water and flame, wind and light.
Kurai exhaled, equal parts wonder and contempt. "So, you're borrowing power from allies now just to match me."
"Not borrowing," Skuld said softly. "Sharing."
Yuna smiled faintly, her voice warm yet fierce. "I agree."
Then she vanished in a burst of flame.
Kurai raised her blade—too late.
Crimson Vow. Yuna's flaming fist connected with Kurai's guard, detonating in an eruption that hurled the dark warrior backward through three collapsed coral spires.
She landed, skidding across the stone, the water around her boiling. "Impressive," Kurai muttered, smoke curling from her armor.
Yuna struck again—punches blurring into fiery afterimages, each one exploding on impact. Kurai blocked, countered, and parried, but the assault drove her steadily back.
Skuld joined the onslaught, water ribbons spiraling around her claws. She and Yuna moved in tandem—one flowing, one burning—their attacks converging like a storm in perfect harmony.
Kurai parried one, dodged the other, then conjured Dark Reflect just in time to block Yuna's Infernal Pyre—a spectral claw of fire that erupted from a portal beneath her feet, dragging her upward in a plume of magma and steam.
The explosion lit the sea like dawn.
Kurai staggered, panting, her shadows unraveling before reforming thicker, darker. "You… finally an opponent I can go against with my full strength."
Yuna cracked her knuckles, embers dripping from her gauntlets. "Get ready to be burned by these flames that chose me."
Skuld raised her claws beside her. "Well, I guess the sea chose me then."
Kurai laughed then—not mockingly, but in exhilaration. "Finally. I won't hold back."
She straightened, darkness gathering in her palm like a collapsing star. Her keyblade vibrated, edges splitting apart like the unfurling of wings. The steel liquefied into streams of black and silver light that coiled around her arm, solidifying into a long, curved glaive.
Erebus Fang.
The weapon pulsed, veins of violet energy coursing along its length. Kurai's aura surged, overwhelming the water around her; the pressure crushed nearby coral into dust.
"You've had your ascension," she said, voice echoing with layered tones. "Now bear witness to mine."
She swung once—and the ocean screamed.
The stroke split the sea for miles, a scar of darkness cutting upward toward the surface. Skuld threw up her arms, forming a tri-element barrier—wind, light, and water interlocking like woven glass. The blow crashed against it, shattering the first two layers before finally halting in a burst of steam.
Yuna lunged forward through the smoke, spinning into a fiery kick. Kurai met her mid-motion, their strikes colliding in a ring of light and dark flames. Sparks fell like rain.
Skuld shot upward, hands tracing sigils in the water. "Prism Storm!"
Blades of light and water spiraled in erratic patterns, closing around Kurai like serpents.
Kurai spun her glaive, slicing through the storm in a blur of violet arcs.
When the storm finally broke, Kurai stood in the center, cloak tattered, but her silver eyes burning. Yuna and Skuld hovered opposite her, their combined aura illuminating the abyss like a sunrise through shattered glass.
For a heartbeat, none of them moved.
Steam rose between them, curling like smoke over a battlefield of fallen gods.
Kurai tilted her head, smirking faintly. "At least… you're worthy opponents."
Skuld's answer was a quiet, steady whisper: "I really wish you'd give up, but I know you better than that."
The water around her began to spiral, teal and silver threads weaving into luminous rings. Yuna's flames ignited brighter, forming a burning halo above them. Together they formed a tri-colored storm—the sea's grace, the sky's speed, the flame's fury.
Kurai planted Erebus Fang into the seabed. The ground cracked open, shadows erupting upward like veins from the abyss.
Both sides drew breath—the ocean itself seeming to brace.
The sea split between them, light and dark dividing the trench into mirrored halves.
Then both unleashed an attack.
The world vanished into light and shadow.
Kurai's darkness flared outward in a crescent wave, while Skuld's wind and water surged forward, twisting around Yuna's infernal heat. When they met, the collision detonated into a sphere of energy so vast it bent the seafloor, turning the ocean for miles into a kaleidoscope of flame, mist, and lightning.
Through that blinding chaos, three figures clashed again and again—blurred outlines of goddess, summoner, and shadow—each strike echoing like thunder in a drowning world.
And when the last impact hit, everything fell silent.
Steam rolled through the trench. Scorched coral glittered like glass. The three silhouettes stood still, breathing hard, eyes locked, energy still coursing through the water.
Skuld's voice broke the silence, low but resolute. "Round two?"
Kurai twirled Erebus Fang, violet lightning sparking from its edge. "Don't flatter yourself."
Then she smirked. "I can go on like this for days. You can't."