Death Battle: Kratos vs Cloud Strife

Bringer of Darkness: Alright, the gods are assembled and the swords are ready to cut! Let’s settle this debate once and for all!

TheMHFan: It’s time for a DEATH BATTLE!!!

****

Random Ruined City

He had felt the Blade pierce him.

He had seen the last of his vision black out.

He had known and experienced the true and cold embrace of eternal death.

So why was he here? Why was he drawing breath? Why was he alive?

The man known as Kratos snapped his eyes wide open and took a wide gasp of breath, and was instantly greeted with a sight that would seem unpleasant to the average man—a ruined city, skeletons of abandoned skyscrapers scattered across the land, and the sky dark and overcast. Small lines of smoke arose from afar, meaning that this city was one that was under constant siege, despite its ruined state.

Kratos slowly shifted himself to a standing position, the wind of the ruined city blowing against his pale, tattooed skin. He surveyed the city around him further, and as soon as he found the strength, he took steps forward—and was surprised that he was moving normally, with the strength he once had.

As he surveyed the city further, Kratos uttered to himself, “What trickery of fate is this…?”

A scowl of anger formed in Kratos’s face then. Just where was he? Just what did fate have in store for him this time?

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Kratos spotted a figure. Upon focusing on it, Kratos saw that the figure appeared to be dressed in a brownish robe of sorts, one with a hood that obscured his entire face. The figure’s coat appeared like a sack upon closer inspection, one that had an X shape in its chest area.



Snarling, Kratos approached the figure, his booted feet digging prints in the dirt as he did so. The hooded figure was not deterred, instead standing there, a true enigma.

“You,” snarled Kratos, as he approached the robed figure. “What do you know of this place?”

The hooded figure did not answer. This, naturally, earned the ire of Kratos, ever the short-tempered soul.

“ANSWER ME, FOOL!” demanded Kratos, screaming at the hooded figure, who still remained undeterred despite all of this. And after a few seconds… no answer still came.

Having had enough of getting the silent treatment, Kratos thundered towards the man and made to choke him… only for the figure to disappear in a shroud of smoke.

Suddenly… a voice.

“Oh, I guess the rumors are true after all—of the enraged berserker who slaughtered the gods of his world, Kratos.”

Kratos’s eyes widened at this, and as he turned to see the source of the voice, he saw the robed figure once more. His face was completely invisible underneath the hood—but the way he appeared to peer into Kratos’s eyes was intimidating, even for such a man as the Ghost of Sparta.

Kratos snarled. “How do you know my name?!” he demanded, with a fist clenched. “Who—or what—are you?!”

The robed figure remained standing, unflinching. “I was merely the one who picked you up at your point in time and rescued you from your death,” he said, his voice smooth—which irritated Kratos. “You may simply refer to me as Ansem.”

“I do not desire your name, cretin,” snarled Kratos. “All I am asking for is why you brought me here.”

“Ah, it seems you are not one for formalities, Kratos,” said Ansem. “I merely brought you here… to serve a purpose.”

At this, Kratos’s eyes narrowed, and his face contorted in utter fury. Was he to be bound to servitude once more? Was he to be cursed to be in chains forever? No. He had served the Gods once, and saw the consequences—he never again would be chained!

“I am not interested in serving anyone,” said Kratos. “I will not be betrayed again!”

“Oh, but I have not saved you for you to be in servitude of me—oh, no, that is far from the case,” Ansem replied nonchalantly. “Call it a simple request—it may very well pique your interest.”

Kratos knew better than to listen further—but this little sentence was enough to calm his rage, albeit by a tiny margin. With distrust still evident in his face, Kratos looked down upon Ansem, saying, “Go on…”

“Another wayward soul has found his way into this place,” said Ansem. “He seeks to unlock its secrets, as much as you do.”

“What would you make me do?” questioned Kratos, the scowl of distrust still evident in his face.

Ansem let out a low chuckle. “I simply request you to indulge that soul in battle,” he replied. “Fight him before he goes astray… finish him if you must.”

“And why should I do that?” demanded Kratos.

“Let’s just say… he is an anomaly whose existence threatens to undo all which you have done,” said Ansem, his voice still retaining its eerie calmness. “If he continues to exist, the freedom you have fought for so long will be undone.”

This only served to anger Kratos further. “Why should I trust the likes of you?!” he asked. “Are you one of the fallen cronies of that damnable Zeus—or are you Zeus himself?!”

“Believe what you will,” Ansem chuckled. Then, he waved his hand, and what happened next surprised Kratos.

Weapons of all assortments began appearing on the road—his weapons. All of them. All pristine and undamaged. The Blades of Exile… The Bow of Apollo… The Nemean Cestuses… Even the holy Blade of Olympus stood tall, embedded in the concrete and glowing majestically. Everything was intact.

“What… What trickery is this?” seethed Kratos.

“Call it what you will,” replied Ansem. “This is merely setting you on your true fate—and ensuring that no one will be able to change it.”

“I… will not be told what my true fate is.”

Ansem simply chuckled, saying nothing at all. Instead, he merely waved his hand…

Kratos suddenly fell to his knees, his head throbbing in utmost pain as visions and voices flitted across his mind. Visions of his family… of his people… even of the gods that fell by his hand… They were all in his head, in a jumbled and distorted mess of voices and sounds.

“What… what are these images… doing… in my head…?” rasped Kratos.

Still, the visions continued. Piercing through his very being… haunting him. Reminding him of the monster he once was—and the beast he potentially still was.

“This was the path you took, yes?” asked Ansem, piercing through the voices that were currently messing around in Kratos’s head. “You are a pitiful man indeed, Kratos. If only you remained true to your power… If only you hadn’t been so reckless…”

Then, another vision. It was one that Kratos honestly never expected or saw coming—and it terrified him beyond belief.

It was his family, lying dead on the floor. But not by his hand—by another man’s. He couldn’t quite piece the slayer’s figure together, but it appeared to be the silhouette of a man, clad in black, with a sword in his hand. And behind the man stood the burning ruins of his former home, Sparta.

“However… you still have the chance to rectify it,” continued Ansem, ignoring Kratos’s pained convulsions. “The man you see in your visions right now… He is the only obstacle that stands in your way. Strike him down, and you shall achieve everything you so desire.”

Finally, as the visions finally subsided, and Kratos’s vision returned to the real world… the Ghost of Sparta opened his eyes wide. He didn’t want to trust this Ansem yet… but he had a feeling that he would be right. Taking a deep breath, Kratos asked only one thing:

“Where do I find him… this Cloud Strife?”

****

Meanwhile, in another part of the ruined city

The man, as he shifted himself back up to his feet, shook his head, groaning in pain. He rubbed at his blond locks, as his azure eyes slowly regained their focus and saw the ruined city he was in now. And the first thought that entered the man’s mind was,

What is this place…?

Groaning as he stood up to full height, the man, otherwise known to his homeworld as Cloud Strife, began to take steps forward, and was surprised that he could walk at a normal pace. However, he didn’t have time to dwell on that—the important thing right now was this: where was he? And how did he end up here?

…of all places?

The last thing Cloud remembered was being spoken to by a stranger in a brown robe. He was told that there was a man roaming this world, seeking to undo all which he had done… and bring back the calamity that once threatened the Planet. He remembered experiencing a vision of a chalk-skinned man, twin blades in his hands, standing in front of a meteor hurtling towards the planet, Cloud’s loved ones dead at the man’s feet. Of course, after his scuffles with his eternal enemy Sephiroth, he knew better than to trust sudden visions—but this time, in this scenario, he already seemed to be thrust into the fray before he could protest.

Cloud sighed to himself. It appeared he had little choice but to seek out this man if he were to get out of here. He had a feeling that that vision wasn’t mere trickery…

Cloud suddenly spotted something out of the corner of his eye, embedded in the concrete—a sword. Or rather, his sword—albeit incomplete. And leaning on the building in front of it was a familiar vehicle of sorts, his trusty motorcycle. What the hell was happening, and why were his weapons and vehicle here? Was fate—or that robed man—really adamant in setting him up to fight the mysterious ashen warrior?

Trudging over to his sword, Cloud tugged it off the ground, the blade shining in whatever sunlight peeked through the thick clouds. Twirling it in his back, the delivery boy slipped it into his back, sheathing it. It had been customary of him to do so every time he won a battle—but this time, he had done it purely out of natural instinct.

“It seems like I’m gonna be stuck here, huh…” sighed Cloud, letting go of the hilt of his sword as he trudged forward, his black boots clacking against the cracked concrete. “What is with that man in the vision, anyway…?”

Cloud then saw a figure approaching his general direction—a bald man, it seemed he was. The thin veil of fog didn’t really do a good job in obscuring the man’s appearance—especially to someone like Cloud. In his hands appeared to be twin blades, chained to his wrists. And his body appeared to be decorated with reddish tattoos of sorts.

However, what struck Cloud the most was the color of this man’s skin. It was not the color of the regular skin of a man—it was the color of pale ash.

And this was enough to send a signal to Cloud. This was the man in his visions—the man that the robed one had tasked him to strike down with his blade.

But would he?

The ashen man approached Cloud, an angry glare and snarl affixed to his face. “You… You are the man who has been appearing in my visions… Cloud Strife.”

Cloud’s eyes widened at this—how did the man know his name? And visions? What visions? Was it possible that this ashen man was experiencing the same type of visions as he was?

Cloud thought it ill to deny the truth, so he simply responded, “And what about you? You’ve been appearing in visions of mine, as well. What business do you have?”

The snarl in the man’s face only grew fiercer. “I have merely come… to destroy you.”

At this, Cloud’s eyes widened, and upon pure instinct and nothing else, his hand flew to the hilt of the sword on his back, and aimed the comically oversized weapon at the pale man. “So you’ve been told to kill me too?” demanded Cloud.

“I hear no words of denial or cowardice from you, Strife,” said the muscle-bound man. “However, by pointing your blade at me, I have affirmed that you did experience that type of vision. You’ve been tasked to strike me down, I take it?”

He then clutched the blades on his hand tighter. “But know this, wayward man—I will not let you end me, and everything I have fought so hard for.”

Finally, the anger in his face reaching its absolute peak, the white warrior swiftly drew his blades, and bent over, completely ready for combat. “I am Kratos. I have defied Olympus, I have slain its gods… and their power courses through me! You shall not kill me, for YOU ARE NOTHING!”

Glaring Cloud down, the man who had referred to himself as Kratos stood a few meters from who would soon be his adversary, blades poised to skewer, to kill.

The Ghost of Sparta was back in action.

“And you will not see the end of this day.”



Cloud said nothing. Instead, he merely gripped the handle of his trusty blade, the First Tsurugi—the main blade of his veritable Fusion Sword—with his free hand, and held it out in front of him, in a battle stance. His azure eyes fell into Kratos’s gaze, full of stoic and silent determination.

As the two men of power stared each other down, they now knew… that only one of them would indeed live to see the end of this day.



Cloud was the one who moved first. With agility betraying the size of his mighty weapon, the former infantryman glided towards Kratos, his blade poised to lop his head off in a single strike. The Ghost of Sparta would have none of that, however; with quick reflexes, he put up his twin blades, the Blades of Exile, and crossed them in front of him, Cloud’s First Tsurugi colliding against Kratos’s swords in a violent CLANG!

To prematurely break the deadlock, Kratos swung his blades harshly to the side, knocking Cloud back, and with a roar, the White Warrior struck with a deadly combo of slashes from his Blades. Cloud put up his massive blade and began defending, the speed and agility of his moves surprising even Kratos, and soon enough, the Ghost of Sparta began to feel as if he were hacking away at an immovable wall.

Cloud prematurely ended Kratos’s combo with a straight kick to the demigod’s face, then followed up with a trio of vicious two-handed strikes, the blade of the First Tsurugi cutting into Kratos’s ashen skin and sending the former agent of Ares staggering back. Finally, Cloud sent Kratos flying ten feet back with a swing of his sword very much akin to a baseball bat strike, striking the White Warrior with the flat of his blade.

With grit teeth, Kratos regained his balance in the air, and swung one of his Blades forward. For a millisecond, Cloud raised his brow, puzzled as to why his foe would do this…

…until the Blade of Exile suddenly extended—or rather, the chain holding it—and hurtled towards Cloud like a makeshift wrecking ball. Only a timely raising of the First Tsurugi saved Cloud’s skull from getting sliced in half.

Quick-thinking, Kratos brought down his other Blade, the weapon shooting out of a chain and thundering down upon Cloud’s head. With expert acrobatics, Cloud flipped out of the way, the rock-like Blade of Exile slamming against the ground in a small plume of fire. Almost seamlessly, Kratos pulled back his blades and swung again, flames trailing after the weapons as they sailed towards their mutual target. Cloud was able to swat the Blades away by a timely raising of his sword, and immediately countered with a vicious upswing that sent Kratos staggering as he brought forth his Blades to defend.

Cloud did not let up. Gripping his blade’s hilt with his free hand, he instantly began to strike like mad at Kratos, the First Tsurugi whizzing through the air like a blur of silver metal and betraying the bulk that it displayed. Of course, the weight and the speed of the strikes—and the sheer power that each carried—was more than enough to frustrate Kratos.

Fortunately, the demigod was able to interrupt Cloud’s vicious combo by barely leaping back to avoid an overhead smash poised to split his head in two, countering by ramming his armored shoulder into the former infantryman’s face. Kratos did not let his assault up, nailing Cloud right in the chest with a vicious backhand slash of his right hand Blade of Exile, before reverting his grip on the sword forwards and going for a stab to the chest.

Cloud, however, parried the blow with a last-minute overhead sword slash, and as Kratos reared his other Blade and prepared to skewer Cloud in the head with it, the delivery boy performed an expert backflip, knocking the hand away and staggering Kratos. Cloud, seizing this chance, increased the distance of his back jump, and instantly airdashed towards Kratos as he regained himself, catching the demigod across the face with a bat of his massive sword’s flat.

Not content, Cloud, with a battle cry, changed grips and thrust the First Tsurugi into Kratos’s heart, the blade letting out a burst of blood as it sank into the White Warrior’s chest. Before the blade could fully sink in, however, Kratos lashed out, Cloud barely able to lean back as the fiery Blade of Exile whizzed towards him, threatening to cut his face. This enabled the Spartan to free himself from the massive blade of Cloud’s, and leap off.

Kratos landed a ways in front of Cloud, dusting himself off as the wound created by his adversary’s massive sword closed up. However, this was unnoticed by Cloud, who twirled his sword and propped it into his shoulder. The two then circled each other, glaring daggers at one another as Kratos noted, “Okay, you’re strong...”

With that, Kratos dismissed the Blades of Exile, the fiery swords being replaced in a flash of light by a pair of metallic gauntlets that were shaped like lions—the Nemean Cestuses. At the same time, a pair of boots appeared on Kratos’s feat and gleamed brightly—the Boots of Hermes. As this happened, Kratos readied the Cestuses to strike, the Boots on his feet glowing as he continued,

“…but are you fast enough?”

With that, Kratos blitzed towards Cloud, the Boots of Hermes glowing as a mach cone formed around the Ghost of Sparta. Cloud didn’t even have the time to react properly as the wind was suddenly knocked away from him, something hard striking him right in the gut and sending him staggering back, the First Tsurugi nearly flying from his grip.

Unsatisfied, Kratos dashed towards Cloud again, sweeping the delivery boy off his feet with a vicious haymaker courtesy of Kratos’s right-hand Cestus. And with that, the Ghost of Sparta dashed and dashed towards Cloud, clubbing the former infantryman with hard strikes from both Cestuses, the weapons and their wielder appearing as a blur as they zipped around Cloud. The former infantryman hacked up a wad of blood as Kratos continued his mad assault from his Cestuses…

…until Cloud had had enough.

Power having built up within him, Cloud Strife focused, ignoring the pain of this beatdown as best he could. And when Kratos leapt back, winding his fist back to unleash a blow that would surely pulverize the delivery boy’s skull… Cloud leapt, his blade brimming with Limit Energy.

Braver…

Cloud zoomed towards Kratos, his blade poised to pierce the Ghost of Sparta in the skull. Luckily, the demigod was able to bring forth his Cestuses to defend against the blow, but the force of the strike had staggered him, shattering his defense. Cloud, still above his foe, raised his sword in the air, and to conclude his Limit Break, he brought down his mighty weapon upon Kratos’s chest, cutting a large gash into it and sending the Spartan cannoning backwards.

Cloud landed on the ground, the Limit Energy on his blade dispersing. He then dashed towards his motorbike nearby, opening a compartment within it and drawing a smaller blade, one that appeared to have a flatter surface than the First Tsurugi—the Hollow Blade. He then slipped the Hollow Blade into his back before approaching Kratos, who was getting back up to his feet, the wound on his chest only beginning to close up.

Kratos groaned in pain as he stood back up to full height, then dismissed the Nemean Cestuses for a golden spear with a purple tip—the Spear of Destiny, before twirling his new weapon in his hand and assuming his angered visage once more.

Cloud did not want to know just what this new weapon could do, so he immediately dashed towards Kratos, both the First Tsurugi and the Hollow Blade in his hands. Kratos, in response, twirled his Spear over his head and spun it at the air before aiming it at the advancing Cloud.

To the Guardian of the Lifestream’s utter bewilderment, purple shards launched themselves from the crystal en masse and flew towards him. Cloud, his eyes widening, was barely able to bring his swords up to defend, but thanks to his own stellar reflexes, he was able to begin swinging his weapons and defending against the shards that flew at him.

With a frustrated growl, Kratos dismissed his attack, and thrust the Spear of Destiny at the advancing Cloud’s heart, and the SOLDIER-in-name-only, in response to this, immediately swung his Hollow Blade, the thin sword meeting the shaft of Kratos’s Spear in a sharp CLANG! and a shower of sparks. Despite the blade’s thin frame, the sheer force of it colliding against the Spear was enough to send Kratos staggering back, but quick-thinking, the Spartan, as he skidded back, opened his free palm and materialized a bolt of lightning before hurling it at the advancing Cloud. The delivery boy crossed his swords in an attempt to block the blow…

…when he was struck right in the chest with Zeus’s Lightning, sending him flying towards a skyscraper and sending him slamming into its wall, cratering it. Without letting up, Kratos bounded the air, and almost instantly, a pair of wings—one which previously belonged to the figure known as Icarus—burst out of his back and flapped, sending Kratos further up into the air. With this, Kratos dismissed the Spear of Destiny, the weapon being replaced with a large hammer, its head three times the size of Kratos’s own and embedded with spikes. This was the hammer that had once belonged to the undead Barbarian King—the aptly-named Barbarian Hammer.



Flying a height above Cloud, who was just beginning to recover, Kratos instantly dove down upon his adversary, the Barbarian Hammer raised above his head. With a fierce battlecry, Kratos brought the Hammer down upon Cloud, forcing a cry of pain from the former infantryman as he was sent blasting through the wall and flying across the room he had been knocked into, crashing back-first against an old computer of sorts.

Ignoring the pain coursing through his body, Cloud flipped himself back up to his feet, gripping the First Tsurugi and the Hollow Blade in his hands tightly. Kratos, roaring out, charged towards Cloud like a bull, the Barbarian Hammer poised to cave his skull in and blow him to bits. To defend, Cloud raised his swords above his head and crossed them—and to Kratos’s frustration, despite Cloud’s knees buckling from the sheer force, the blond’s defense actually held, neither of his blades breaking.

And to Kratos’s further frustration, Cloud began to push upwards, standing up to his full height as he did so. And with a roar of determination, he slashed outwards with his sword, sending Kratos staggering back and the Barbarian Hammer nearly flying from his grip. Kratos regained his bearings just in time… for Cloud to strike at him with another of his deadlier moves.

Cross-Slash…

Cloud, having put away the Hollow Blade and placed it in his back, gripped the hilt of the First Tsurugi with both hands, the blade being wrapped in golden Limit Energy. Before Kratos could move out of the way, Cloud immediately bore his mighty blade down on the Spartan’s head and slashed once, twice, thrice—the third strike blasting Kratos far back and near the building’s broken window and wrenching the Barbarian Hammer free from his grip, the weapon slipping past the window and plummeting down the ground. As for Cloud’s attack? It had briefly left a mysterious symbol—that of Japanese kanji—in the air before vanishing into thin air.

Snarling, Kratos attempted to stand on his feet, and move his limbs to make to summon a new weapon. He never needed that damn hammer anyway, he was better off with his blades—

Kratos’s eyes suddenly widened, as all of a sudden, he found all of his limbs immobile. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move—well, he could, but the best he could do was twitch and move his eyes.

That last attack had paralyzed him.

What… What trickery is this…?! thought Kratos, as even his jaws were immobilized by Cloud’s move, barring him from talking.

Taking advantage of this moment, Cloud, with a battle cry, gripped both his blades and ran towards Kratos, and with a fierce motion, stabbed both into Kratos’s chest, forcing the demigod to hack up blood. Cloud then kicked the impaled Ghost of Sparta off the window and his blades, the still-paralyzed Kratos plummeting down the depths below and not a sound escaping his immobile jaws.

Flicking the Spartan’s blood off his blades, Cloud dove in after Kratos, his blades crossed before him, and slashed at the demigod upon reaching him, blowing him back and slamming him back-first into the concrete. Reversing the grip on his blades, Cloud made to stab the downed Kratos, the Ghost of Sparta barely able to raise his armored shoulder in defense. The First Tsurugi and the Hollow Blade glanced off the Golden Fleece, allowing for Kratos, having finally regained control of his muscles, to shoot up and stagger Cloud with a fierce headbutt.

Taking full advantage of this opening, however short it was, Kratos stretched out his arms and materialized a new weapon—a pair of bright purple claws, a pair of weapons which reeked the stench of death itself. These were the Claws of Hades, the god of death.

Kratos didn’t speak, instead immediately lashing out with his Claws. Cloud, a bit surprised, was unable to dodge out of the way, instead opting to raise the flats of his blades to defend himself. Soon, Kratos began swinging the Claws like mad, the weapons threatening to tear into Cloud’s flesh with every passing second. Of course, the former infantryman was able to move and swing his blades at such speeds that he was able to defend himself, but as the seconds wore on, the Ghost of Sparta was beginning to increase the fury and tenacity of his strikes.

One of the Claws did, however, fly very close to Cloud’s face, that the delivery boy was barely able to duck before Kratos moved to strike once more, bringing his other Claw down upon him. Cloud was able to snap his head to the side to avoid being skewered, but he instantly felt something—a sting, one that was foreign to him. It was as if the Claw of Hades had burned him… within.

Not wanting what would happen if he got hit by the full force of the Claws, Cloud instantly backflipped, narrowly avoiding a side-swing of the Claws of Hades that was set to tear his face off. In retaliation, Cloud struck Kratos in the chin with the butts of his blades’ hilts, staggering the Spartan warrior before he could swing the Claws again, then reverted his grip on his swords and instantly began hacking and slashing away at the White Warrior, his blades sinking deep into the Spartan’s ashen skin and sending explosions of blood flying.

To conclude, Cloud reversed his grip on his weapons and knocked Kratos away with a backhanded slash of the Hollow Blade, before sheathing the weapon and gripping on the red hilt of the First Tsurugi, white-blue Limit Energy gathering around the blade. And as soon as Kratos got up, Cloud brought down his blade, to perform one of his stronger moves.

Blade Beam…

When the First Tsurugi hit the ground, a massive crescent-shaped wave of energy erupted from the arc of Cloud’s swing and raced towards Kratos. The demigod, unable to dodge out of the way, could only brace himself as the bladebeam hurtled towards him.

BOOM!

Kratos cried out in pain as the bladebeam exploded against him, blasting him skyward. The demigod was blasted towards the wall of a nearby skyscraper, the force of his impact cratering it. The explosion had also left behind a sizeable pillar of smoke in its wake.

With that, Cloud twirled his blade and slipped it into his back, but kept his gaze forwards, dreading the fact that his foe was most likely not dead yet. He had been in enough fights to know that a thick cloud of smoke usually meant that the fight was far from over.

And far from over it was.

Eyes widening, Cloud only barely had time to swat away an arrow suddenly whizzing at his face—a flaming one, at that. Thanks to this, the Guardian of the Lifestream could not defend himself properly as something rammed into him at hypersonic speeds.

With a fierce battlecry, Kratos zoomed towards Cloud, the Wings of Icarus fully sprouted on his back and a fiery weapon slung to his shoulder, the Bow of Apollo. Cloud felt the wind knocked out of him as Kratos suddenly punched him in the gut, sending him flying, and without peer, the Ghost of Sparta strung the Bow of Apollo and fired.

Cloud raised his sword to defend against the arrow flying at him, the projectile glancing off against the flat of the First Tsurugi. When Cloud lowered his blade, however… something struck him in the shoulder, forcing a hiss of pain from him.

Eyes narrowing, Cloud raised his sword in front of him to defend against the oncoming arrows, which were, for all intents and purposes, flooding towards him. Kratos was rattling off arrows from the Bow of Apollo at the rate of machine-gun fire, and it was not something Cloud saw everyday in one who wielded a bow. How the hell could he have the strength to string so fast?!

Still, fending off bullets had trained him for exactly this. Cloud regained himself in midair and instantly began swinging the First Tsurugi at blinding speeds, deflecting each and every arrow fired off from the Bow of Apollo, and landed on the ground, prepared to airdash towards Kratos and knock him out of the sky.

However, little did Cloud know that Kratos wasn’t planning to poke holes in him like Swiss cheese at all.

When Cloud looked up… he saw that Kratos was entirely consumed with flames, the tip of the arrow having been knocked in the Bow of Apollo burning brightly like a beacon.

The Ghost of Sparta fired.

And Cloud, unable to dodge or defend himself, could only brace himself.

BOOOOOM!!

Cloud cried out in pain as a bright pillar of fire and light exploded and knocked him into the air when the charged arrow struck him. He could not react in time as Kratos blitzed into him once more, the Nemean Cestuses back in his hands. With a roar of determination, Kratos immediately went H.A.M. on Cloud, striking him with blows that were much stronger than before and would normally grind a regular human’s bones to dust. Granted, Cloud was far, far from a normal human, but it still didn’t change the fact that they hurt significantly.

With a snarl, Kratos slammed the Nemean Cestuses together, before rushing in at his victim like a football player, prepared to blow his head off with a single strike. Cloud, however, was able to regain his bearings fast enough to raise his sword and block the strike, but the force was sufficient to blast him ten feet back. With a mighty roar, Kratos leapt in after his foe and raised his right-hand Cestus, prepared to crush Cloud’s skull into a fine paste.

Only a timely airdash to the side saved Cloud from being pasted by the Cestus, enabling him to strike back with a backhanded slash to Kratos’s chest that sent the Spartan back to his feet on the ground. Cloud reverted his grip on the First Blade again and surged in, gripping it with both hands and striking Kratos in the face with a baseball-bat-esque bitch slap that sent the White Warrior sprawling.

Gritting his teeth, Kratos spread out his dark Icarus Wings yet again, slowing his fall and holding him aloft. With a roar, he bore down on Cloud with his right hand Cestus cocked back, only for the former infantryman to meet his strike with a two-handed swing of his sword and interrupt it. Both winded back and swung again, the resulting impact rooting Cloud to the spot and shake Kratos in the air. Cloud pulled back, and as did Kratos, and from there, they had initiated a duel, First Tsurugi to Nemean Cestuses.

To Kratos’s surprise and utter frustration, Cloud was holding up, the dizzying chops and parries of his First Blade meeting the whizzing blurs that were the Nemean Cestuses and matching them strength-to-strength. Soon enough though, the sheer intensity behind Cloud’s blows warranted that Kratos would lose his balance, the flapping of his wings growing more and more erratic by the second.

Soon enough, Kratos had left himself wide open long enough for Cloud to surge in with an overhead slash, the force of the blow actually shattering the Nemean Cestuses and almost slicing off their wielder’s hands. Kratos ultimately lost his balance and fell to the ground, opening him up for a strike to the face with the hilt of the First Tsurugi, then a haymaker that sent the Ghost of Sparta sprawling.

Seizing this moment, Cloud instantly made to dash for his motorcycle, the Fenrir, lying parked and undamaged a few feet away. By the time Kratos had regained his bearings, Cloud had hopped into his trusty bike and started the engine, and promptly zoomed towards Kratos, intent on running him over. The Ghost of Sparta, seeing this, leapt into the air, flapping his wings to rise higher and avoid getting pasted. In retaliation, Kratos materialized Apollo’s Bow and shot at Cloud, only for the former infantryman to swerve his motorbike to the side and evade the oncoming arrows. And to the Spartan warrior’s utter frustration… Cloud sped towards the broken and beaten highway, away from him.

“YOU COWARD!” Kratos roared. “COME BACK HERE AND FACE ME, CLOUD STRIFE!”

With an angry snarl, the Ghost of Sparta spread the Wings of Icarus, and promptly began to barrel after Cloud Strife.



Cloud expertly swerved around the abandoned vehicles as he zoomed across the highway, his motorbike picking up speed. Kratos gave chase, of course, his wings spread out wide and his hands stringing an arrow to the Bow of Apollo. Aiming for Cloud’s skull, Kratos opened fire, but out of sheer instinct, Cloud swerved his motorbike out of the way, the flaming arrow striking the hood of an abandoned car.

Narrowing his eyes, Cloud increased the speed of his vehicle, its engine roaring as it zoomed through the broken road. Kratos was right behind him and trailing after him, stringing yet another flaming arrow into Apollo’s Bow. Kratos fired, Cloud drawing and raising his sheathed sword out of instinct and deflecting the projectile as he did so. The Ghost of Sparta, undeterred, loaded another arrow and instantly began firing at Cloud, rattling off arrows at the rate of machine gun fire. As he sped on, Cloud blocked the arrows with the flat of his blade, the projectiles splashing off of them like water.

Cloud refocused his vision on the road ahead of him, narrowly evading a collision with an abandoned truck, and even so, the side of Fenrir brushed against the side of the truck, creating a small line of sparks. Upon regaining his full focus, Cloud saw that he was driving down a highway that gradually grew wider as he advanced, with more abandoned vehicles strewn across the streets. Kratos wasn’t too far behind, flying after his opponent like a vigilant hawk, his fiery Bow drawn. With a roar of fury, Kratos fired once more, and while Cloud was able to swerve his motorcycle in time to evade, it was clear that the endless stream of arrows was making him struggle to do so.

The chase continued on, the engine of Cloud’s motorbike roaring on as it sped through the abandoned highway at top speeds, swerving and weaving to evade the stream of arrows fired off at the rate of minigun fire by the Ghost of Sparta. Occasionally Cloud would swing his sword to deflect or block the arrows, but for the most part he focused on the road ahead, avoiding vehicles and hazards as he went.

Soon both came to a road leading to a swerving skyway, the path spiraling as it ascended. Cloud, not losing his determination, sped even further, Fenrir roaring as it zoomed towards the spiraling road at great speeds. Kratos tried to follow his foe as fast as he could, but the speed of Cloud’s motorbike was increasing by the second, and the Ghost of Sparta was beginning to lose his opponent. Cloud, on his part, continued his pace, even expertly driving his bike around the twisting road. Eventually, he was driving so fast that his motorcycle promptly stopped giving a damn about gravity even as the slope grew steeper and more twisted.

With a snarl of anger, Kratos picked up the pace, flying after Cloud and rattling off arrow after flaming arrow—yet none of his hits could make it to their target. Cloud was driving his motorcycle like a straight up boss as he ascended further and further up the skyway, the arrows that missed him striking either the road or any vehicles that were strewn about.

Eventually, Cloud reached the very top of the path, the road terminating in a rather large end that greatly resembled and could very well serve as a ramp. The former infantryman sped towards it, not giving an honest damn about the height.

Kratos, on his part, had grown tired of chasing down his foe. He had seen a rather large pillar underneath the road, and he presumed that that pillar was the one that supported the highway—or at least, judging from its position, the part of the road that Cloud was currently driving on. Either way, the Ghost of Sparta knew that he had little choice, and this was his only opportunity.

With that, Kratos instantly flew underneath the road, and faced the general direction of the support pillar. Stretching out his hand, Kratos materialized a rather bizarre weapon, one that appeared like a lightning bolt—or one that was an actual lightning bolt. Previously owned by the King of the Gods, Zeus, nonetheless. With a roar of effort, Kratos hurled the bolt of Zeus’s Lightning at the thick pillar, and as the crackling spear of electricity made contact with the concrete support pillar…

KA-BOOOOOOM!

The crackling spear of the Lightning of Zeus promptly obliterated a good chunk of the concrete pillar in a massive explosion of fire and electricity, and with a loud moan—and much to the frustration of Cloud, who was still driving upon the part of the road that the concrete pillar used to support—the skyway began to collapse, abandoned vehicles toppling down the ground below, which led to the outskirts of the city and the wastes outside.

Cloud’s eyes widened at this, but he still kept up his pace, driving along the collapsing road that his bike’s wheels were rolling on. Soon, however, even the section of the road that Cloud was driving on began to fall apart, partly thanks to their brittleness due to having worn down over the years.

Still, the Guardian of the Lifestream never lost his determination. His motorbike zoomed across the crumbling road, the vehicle jumping across the pieces of scattering road that were falling further and further apart. Seeing this, Kratos stretched out a hand and swung a new weapon, attached to a chain, at Cloud—the Nemesis Whip, the weapon forged for him by the god of the smith, Hephaestus. The crackling end of the Nemesis Whip whizzed above Cloud, who ducked in order to avoid his head getting sliced off. However, doing so entailed that he lost his focus in front of him, if only by a bit, which meant he missed the next jump that he was supposed to pull off, his motorbike making a straight plunge to the ground below.

With a roar, Kratos dove in after his prey, swinging the Nemesis Whip at Cloud and his falling motorbike once more. Cloud, now having little to no control over the movement of Fenrir, swiftly whipped out the First Tsurugi and batted away the strike, before making the flat of his blade face Kratos as the Ghost of Sparta swung again. The force of the Nemesis Whip’s impact was felt by Cloud, but the former infantryman retained his focus on his foe, swinging his sword to the side to bat away the Nemesis Whip.

Eventually, Cloud and Kratos had begun a midair duel, the First Tsurugi whizzing through the air as it clashed with the Nemesis Whip. However, Cloud having to split his focuses between Kratos and the ground he was falling to meant he was going to struggle keeping up with the Cursed Mortal’s strikes.

Cloud then saw something thundering down his direction, a piece of road that was falling down upon him, and when he attempted to fix his focus back to Kratos, he saw that his foe was gone. He didn’t have the time to focus on that, however, as the large piece of road thundered towards him. Left with no other choice, Cloud raised his mighty blade into the air, bringing it down upon the descending piece of debris and slicing it perfectly in twain.

The falling pieces of the skyway didn’t stop there, however. More pieces of road fell down upon Cloud, who was now in a desperate struggle to hold on to his motorbike and not get crushed by road. With expert skill, the Guardian of the Lifestream sliced the incoming pieces of debris in twain, but the burden of having to hold on to his bike meant he was struggling. Eventually, though, all of the pieces of debris had come to pass, sliced in half by Cloud’s sword… yet Kratos was still nowhere in sight.

Cloud refocused his vision on the ground, and saw that he was mere inches away from crashing. Quickly, the delivery boy adjusted his balance so that the rear tires of Fenrir would land on the ground first, and immediately revved up the engine, the motorbike speeding ahead as he did so… and narrowly avoiding a clawed whip flying down at him.

Kratos had been waiting to pounce this whole time, and he had known that those falling pieces of debris from earlier were the only distraction he could afford to use. Taking advantage of this moment of surprise from Cloud, Kratos swung his other Nemesis Whip this time to the side, aiming to slice into the delivery boy’s torso. With grit teeth, Cloud raised his sword to defend, the bladed whip slamming against the flat of the First Tsurugi in a shower of sparks.

While this was taking place, Cloud instantly veered his motorbike sharply to the right, forcefully dislodging the premature bladelock that would have taken place, and suddenly reversed the engine, Fenrir driving towards and behind Kratos. The Ghost of Sparta was rather surprised at this move, failing to notice Cloud leap high overhead, getting off of his motorbike and rearing the First Tsurugi in his hand, the blade coated in bright-blue Limit Energy once more as it was set to stab Kratos in the heart.

Climhazzard…

Kratos could not defend himself as Cloud suddenly throttled into him, and while the Ghost of Sparta was able to roll to the side to avoid getting skewered… his left Wing of Icarus was unfortunate enough to take the fall for him.

And suddenly, Cloud gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands, and with a roar of effort, he pulled his blade upwards, blue Limit Energy trailing after the sword as it surged upward. This was sufficient in completely tearing off Kratos’s left Wing, and forcing a howl of pain from the Spartan warrior. Instantly Cloud dislodged, the now severed and useless Wing slipping off of his Blade, and dove down towards the still-moving Fenrir, somehow able to sit upon it. Kratos tumbled down upon the ground, blood spilling from the stump where his Wing was previously, his face skidding against the dirt.

Instantly Cloud hit the brakes on his bike as he had drove a considerable distance from Kratos, and as he screeched to a halt next to a rather large rock formation. Upon looking out at the distance, Cloud saw that he had driven a considerable distance from the ruined city, and that he was in some sort of wasteland. For some reason, this felt eerily familiar—it was as if he was back in his homeworld, in Midgar…

Cloud sighed as he dismounted from Fenrir. He pressed a button on the bike, two compartments of sorts unfurling themselves from the sides of the vehicle. Each compartment happened to house a pair of blades each—pristine, ready for combat. Cloud took each blade one-by-one and fitted them into the First Tsurugi already in his hand, and when he was done, he unsheathed the Hollow Blade from his back and fitted it into his assembled swords.

The final product? A thick, massive blade, one that appeared to be six interlocking swords mixed into one, and strangely reminiscent of the blade that Cloud had wielded all those years prior.

This was the assembled form of Cloud’s veritable Fusion Sword.

…Cloud’s eyes suddenly widened in surprise, as he felt something.

Instantly the delivery boy swung his assembled sword down, narrowly blocking a slash aimed at his throat. When he looked down… Cloud saw that Kratos was alive and well—perhaps far angrier than he was before. The Blades of Exile, their blades appearing like volcanic rock, were in his hands, pushing against the Fusion Sword, and on his feet were the Boots of Hermes.

With a grunt of effort, Cloud swung his assembled blade to the side, and instantly held it out in a battle stance, the blade pointed forward.

“What are you doing?!” demanded Cloud.

“You still live. You still draw breath,” huffed Kratos, clutching the Blades of Exile tightly. “I will not allow it any further. Your existence is one that threatens to undo all that I have done—all that I have sacrificed!”

Cloud grit his teeth. “Why? We need to stop this before—”

“You cannot fool me with your bluffs, mortal!” snapped Kratos. “I have seen you in my visions—ones of you causing destruction to everything I have done and care about.”

Cloud frowned. So this man had experienced the same visions as him? Those same visions that had called him here in the first place?



“Speak no longer, Cloud Strife,” Kratos snarled, bending into a battle stance with the Blades of Exile in hand. “I have only sought what I have come to destroy—and I have arrived to destroy you!”

Cloud gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. There was truly no convincing this man, was there? Besides, it wasn’t like he could have done anything to escape this encounter unscathed anyways. If he wanted to survive, then truly, he had no other choice.

With a war cry, Kratos flung his right-hand Blade of Exile forth, towards Cloud. The Guardian of the Lifestream raised the Fusion Sword and batted the blade away, retaliating by surging forward to where Kratos was, swinging his massive blade overhead. While Kratos was able to raise his left-hand Blade to defend, the force and weight of the blow was so much that he was sent stumbling back.

Cloud seamlessly swung the Fusion Sword again, and Kratos met his strike with a swing of his own. The Ghost of Sparta pulled back as Cloud did, and both swung at the same time. The process rinsed, and repeated, and repeated, and repeated, until eventually, their strikes became little more than blurs of silver and dark.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Cloud and Kratos slashed and slashed and slashed at each other, neither combatant appearing to be gaining an advantage over the other. Despite the supposed mass of his weapon, Cloud was proving capable of swinging it at blindingly fast speeds, capable of matching Kratos’s small-but-quick shortswords blow for blow. Kratos, on the other hand, was proving himself capable of letting out a decent amount of strength to at least contend with Cloud’s power and Fusion Sword.

The brief duel ended when Cloud performed an uppercutting slash, one that caught Kratos in the chest and sent him flying upwards. Without relent, the Guardian of the Lifestream sprang after his foe, and upon reaching his level, unleashed a vicious two-handed overhead strike that sent Kratos cannoning back into the ground, towards a stone pillar. The force of his impact was more than enough to break the pillar in half.

Not hesitating in the slightest, Cloud dove in after Kratos, once more going for an overhead slash from his mighty blade. The Ghost of Sparta was agile enough to recover and roll to the side, Cloud’s blade creating a crater as it hit the dirt. Kratos shot back up to his feet and attempted a shoulder ram with the Golden Fleece on his right arm, only for Cloud to tug his blade out of the ground and block the Fleece with the flat of the Fusion Sword.

While this happened, Cloud’s one hand let go of his blade, and before Kratos could overpower him, the delivery boy quickly socked the Spartan in the face, sending him stumbling. Without relent, Cloud gripped on the Fusion Sword’s hilt once more and swung right at Kratos’s chest, cutting deep and making a massive explosion of blood burst out of the wound. Kratos rocked back in pain, enough for Cloud to swing once more. The slash crossed over Kratos’s initial wound, creating an X-shaped wound in the White Warrior’s chest. To conclude, Cloud, with a war cry, surged in and thrust with his Fusion Sword, set to impale Kratos in the heart…

Only a timely readying of the Golden Fleece would save Kratos from being skewered upon the massive Fusion Sword, but the impact was more than enough to send the Ghost of Sparta sprawling. Cloud did not waste another opportunity, raising the Fusion Sword above his head and smashing it into the Fleece. Cloud repeated the process again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

With a roar of “ENOUGH!” Kratos instantly materialized something out of hammerspace, even in the midst of being beaten down. A light burst out of that something—the head of Helios, the god of the sun—forcing Cloud to shield his eyes and stagger back. Seizing this opportunity, Kratos quickly shot up to his feet and socked Cloud across the face, sending him sprawling, and materialized a new weapon—a spear and shield set that would fit such a Spartan as him. Kratos had materialized the Arms of Sparta, the weapon of his brethren.

Roaring out, Kratos immediately began a series of mad thrusts with the Spartan spear, gashing and wounding Cloud before the former infantryman could make a move. Granted, these strikes didn’t hurt significantly, but they were enough to keep Cloud from countering. To conclude his combo, Kratos slammed the shield down on the ground, hard enough to emit a shockwave that nearly threw Cloud off his feet. And just right then, right there and then, a group of warriors fell from the sky and surrounded Kratos—the fallen souls of his Spartan brethren—and all thrust their spears out, knocking Cloud away.

As the Spartan souls dispersed, it was revealed to Cloud that Kratos had switched armaments yet again—back to his Blades of Exile. The blades, imbued with fire, whizzed towards Cloud’s face, but this time, the Guardian of the Lifestream was prepared, raising his blade in a timely fashion to swat the blows away. Kratos continued swinging his blades, Cloud batting them away with each turn as he drew ever closer to the Cursed Mortal, until finally, he was right in front of Kratos, batting the Spartan warrior into the air with a vicious swing of the Fusion Sword.

Cloud then raised his blade in the air, enough Limit Energy having built up from within him, and as the sword glowed with that energy, the Guardian of the Lifestream began to spin it around. He was going to unleash one of his more powerful Limit Breaks…

Meteorain…

“Stars, rain down!”

Cloud swung the Fusion Sword down, and following that, whatever clouds hung in the desert air suddenly parted. At that very next second, six meteors came hurtling from the skies at breakneck speeds, all racing down towards Kratos. The Ghost of Sparta was unable to do anything as the first meteor exploded against his body, causing him to roar out in pain.

The second impacted Kratos, resulting in a bigger explosion, and then the next meteors came down, all striking true. Kratos’s roars of pain were silenced by the meteors colliding at him in breakneck speeds, and the Ghost of Sparta was engulfed in a massive explosion that created a sizeable pillar of smoke as the final meteor collided and exploded against his body.

From that pillar of smoke,, something came hurtling down towards the barren desert ahead—Kratos. Smoke trailing from his body, the Spartan fell, fell, fell…

Until he was nowhere within Cloud’s sight anymore.

Sighing… Cloud twirled the Fusion Sword behind his back, flicking off the blood staining it,, and sheathed it. This was a symbol of him gaining victory over his opponents, and he had been doing it in so many battles that it had become second nature to him.

(stop music)

“I won’t sleep well tonight…” Cloud sighed, as he turned away from Kratos’s general direction, and made to trudge back to his motorbike. It had been a hard-fought battle, but he had prevailed. Now, he wasn’t entirely sure if Kratos died, but perhaps it was better to just leave him be, if he wanted to avoid conflict. Instead, he would confront this robed individual—this Ansem—and get his answers, as to why those visions came into existence…

****

Meanwhile, on a certain part of the desert, a single soul stirred. It was none other than Kratos himself—and he was very much alive and well. However, he was in no way unscathed, let alone lightly scathed. The wounds inflicted by Cloud’s massive sword still hurt significantly, and there were patches of torn and burnt skin all over his body everywhere, the result of him taking on the full fusillade of Meteorain. The Ghost of Sparta lay there, his entire physique in searing agony.

Was this it?

Was this where he was destined to end?

In a blind quest to defend everything he had fought for?

In the hands of some upstart mortal?

In the whim of a strange man in a robe?

Was his fate… to fall in such a humiliating way as this…?

Kratos’s eyes slowly flickered, his muscles slackening. Perhaps this was his fate after all… besides, there were far worse ways to die than this…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

…No…

He… would not fall here. Not when… he had lost so much…

An anger filled him then.

Anger.

Rage.

One that he had never felt in a long time…

Yet…

One that he had felt for his fallen comrades…

For his Spartan brothers…

This was…

Rage…

Rage to kill a god…

The rage…

…of a Spartan.

A surge of strength. Kratos suddenly found the strength to rise back up to his feet, a new feeling of determination—and fury—within him.

He would not die.

For he was a Spartan—and a Spartan never yields.

It was time to show this man… the Rage of Sparta.

****