[20:12] Thank fuck for Hell.

The battle between the Mimic and the mighty Chieftain of Atl was nothing short of spectacular. All onlookers would be surprised by the power Katzan was concealing-- his black fire wreaking havoc upon the square, burning Idris with the clear intent to incinerate. However, the shape-shifter's newfound power was just as surprising, if not more.

This death match started off in favour of Idris as Katzan accidentally blocked himself behind spectators, most notably Sibri; smoking opium and relaxing, enjoying the show. Unfortunately, this would cause him to succumb to the scorched waves of earth tossed at him.

The second bout was... nowhere near as enjoyable. The Atl Chieftain managed to close the gap between them-- avoid the obstacles that Idris was using to kite around the mighty Pride Sin. Hissing and screeching as his very essence was damaged by the occult flames, the Mimic was brought to the ground. Punching the ground in a fit of sheer rage, he'd compose himself and completely unleash himself onto Katzan.

This... this is where it got most entertaining. Surely if the Idol could nod in approval, now would be the time.

Both warriors understood each other now-- learning on the fly, uncaring of the harm brought to their bodies. Idris carelessly began to step into the destructive fires that absolutely should've destroyed him had Sibri not made him drink 'Nature's Bounty'. In the end... it all worked out.

ZWYOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!

A precise and powerful cosmic beam would send the blue haired Chieftain colliding into the Idol Tlazhotla.

...

Where Katzan impacted against the wraith statue... there was emptiness where is head used to be, smoke rising from the part where his head used to belong. Of course, the Mimic was no stranger to the Sin's powers. This would not be an opportunityto regenerate. Idris finished the duel as Katzan started it-- crude.

Clop. Clop. Clop.

His footsteps resonated through the court-- haunting to any Atlan, inspiring to others. He'd stand over the body, looking down at the headless body.. shaking his head. This was intentional.. it was obvious. Tossing the staff back to Hell, he would begin an eerie ritual-- something he'd learned from his time here in Gehenna.. except with cosmic magic. Waving his arms over the body, a pair of translucent yellow lights would begin to rise from the body-- one directed into the Idol, and one.. into himself.

Idris was absorbing Katzan's god-like powers but also sharing it into Tlazhotla.

"Mighty Tlazhotla, I have disrespected you in the past. I have not done enough for the people that took me in when I was in dire need. Now, I present you an offering. I present you the energy of theself-proclaimed god Katzan Xizoh, former Chieftain of Atl.. Sin of Pride."

The light would begin to become more and more bright-- Katzan's blood pooling and gathering at the feet of the panther. Idris' subtle grunts could be heard as his arm movements became more and more intense-- the battle left him wounded too, after all.

"Oh mighty Tlazhotla, I am Idris Kang, and this power is now yours. Not mine."

Finally, the pair of luminescent cosmic lights began to form a helix shape-- entering the Idol through the jade hues where its eyes were. The Mimic would lean onto his knees.. immensely tired by the ritual; by the battle.

His head lifted slightly, meeting Sibri's eyes-- panting, huffing.. gasping for air.

It seemed he sought approval, and maybe even something from the intimidating Idol. The Mimic hoped he didn't mess it up.
(Idris Kang)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[20:17] Katzan underestimated the Mimic. He knew he was stronger, he knew he had every way of winning, he knew he would definitely win that, he knew that he had every chance. And like that, he let his guard go down. Every single blow that Idris struck against him was forceful, yet he regenerated... He kept regenerating... He kept regenerating...

Until he didn't. His powers failed. His blessing had abandoned him, in the moment he needed the most. He was careless, he was unfocused, he was... Nervous? Perhaps that was the tiniest inch of unknown emotion that no one ever saw from the chieftain of Atl.

Everyone knew that he would win this. EVERYONE. He could defeat most of the people around, but there were times when even he, a Strigoi, had to understand. There were things that he wanted to protect. This was a fight motivated not by pure anger, but the way that he fought... It was guided by that.

He should have remembered that he was there to protect his tribesmen. He should have remembered that he was there to protect... "Laztya!" He said, a nervous gasp of his voice as he finally came down to the ground, tumbling.

He felt his life force waning away from him, every single moment being drained further and further away from the Xizoh. A sin of Pride... A strigoi... So many titles, and what for? Now, he was dead. Killed by himself, killed by his own hubris.

While that happened, he managed to mutter a few words, yellow irises glancing towards the skies. His mouth opened wide, blood quickly expelled away from it. "Joanne... I can't... Prot--" And again, another sudden impact to his insides, blood spurting out from his mouth as violently as always.

Obviously, the Xizoh had known one thing to be confirmed... How he hated cosmic magic. And these were the last thoughts that the powerful fire magi had known to have. Not that he should have protected his tribe, not that he should have been more careful, not that he should have kept an eye out...

But that he hated cosmic magi with all of his soul. And for certain, that was the real problem there, that no one noticed. He was against a cosmic magi. You wanna know who was a cosmic magi as well? YOHN.

That was DEFINITELY what the Xizoh had missing there. That was what he knew he should have taken into account. This was YOHN, but different! Cosmic magis are the bane of the Xizoh family. He should have been more careful. He should have...

And like that, the last part of Katzan's life force wanes away, drained by the wraith. So much for hubris.

And yet, there was something that would always lie there. A single stain of black-and-white, in the form of his own body, trying to push itself DOWN. Where the wraith laid, there was a last effort of Katzan to lash out, a last effort to at least make sure that there was one thing that would come clear.

He was dead set on getting everyone there with him. Or, at least, the last remnants of his greyish flames lashing out against the idol in the middle of the city and everyone who dared to come any closer. Even without his head...

There was still insanely powerful magic running through his veins. And if he could do anything to help and make sure that the reason of his worries would be dead...

He definitely would.
(Katzan Xizoh)