Lightning burns through Leor’s veins, and his heart matches the beat of thunder. The rain on the battlefield evaporates from his seething aura and the sporadic bolts of lightning.

Alfred shouts at the top of his lungs, even drowning out the roar of thunder. “Y-you can’t be a candidate! That’s impossible! How can a nonbeliever like you be a candidate!?”

Leor pays no mind to Alfred’s claims. In fact, he’s not even sure what he said. All of his energy pools into his fist and his red-tinted glare, but something deep inside of him is whispering into his head.

Kill him.

Alfred shakes the ground with a stomp of his boot and raises his hand to the sky. “Hand over that necklace! I need to become a God!”

But his call to the heavens goes unheard. He searches the sky for any signs of his Heaven’s Might, but all he sees is an ocean of dark clouds mixed with raining bolts. Within a flash of lightning, Leor phases in front of Alfred, catching him off guard and hammering him back into the dirt. The ground implodes from the pressure, creating a massive crater beneath them. Alfred’s body ricochets within his armor and snaps back up from the impact. Leor catches him with his foot and plants him back into the floor. This blow is different; It’s heavy, heavier than all of Leor’s previous attacks combined. It feels like a mountain has landed on top of him.

Leor mounts him. Black static swells in his fist and he plunges another blow into Alfred’s chest, smashing his armor inward. Stunned, Alfred slips in a counterpunch as Leor draws his fist back for another strike, but Leor coils his arm underneath Alfred’s and uppercuts his elbow, bending it in a direction it’s not meant to bend. He feels the bone in his arm snap inside his skin. All his nerves hone in on the white-hot pain.

Without letting up, Leor pounds away at Alfred’s armor and smashes his face in until his cauterized wounds split back open and both their blood mix with the pooling rain. Every time Leor pulls back his fist and stares at Alfred’s bloody, bruised face, Ceri’s death floods his mind. Her weak smile. Her cold touch. Her lifeless eyes. All of it replays in his head in exact detail, causing him to fuel each attack with more ferocity than last, hoping to make the nightmare end. He digs his fingers underneath a dented slot and tears bits and pieces of armor plating off, exposing Alfred’s bare chest. Leor calls forth his broken katana and looks down at Alfred once more before plowing it into him. Blood splatters his face.

Exhausted, Leor wobbles to his feet and observes what he’s done. Alfred gargles his own blood. After all that, Ceri’s eyes won’t leave his head. He squeezes his skull as if trying to erase the tattooed image out of his memory, but nothing works. In fact, the memories get more vivid. Again, the metallic tower and the unfamiliar paved street pops in his head. Leor screams to the heavens, trying to silence his thoughts. A bolt of Lightning that illuminates even the darkest corners of Logtown and thunder that rumbles cities miles away follow Leor’s fist as he slams it against the hilt of his sword, nailing it in deeper until the handguard presses against Alfred’s chest.

The lightning and thunder fade into the clouds. The rain takes its place and showers the quiet battlefield. Everything around them is in ruins. The fallen clock face stares at Leor; the hands are frozen in time. 4:44. A blood-curdled laugh breaks through the sounds of rain.

“What irony. Someone like you wielding Ludwig’s ring.” coughs Alfred. He lifts his head off the ground to look at Leor. “You better prepare yourself for what’s coming.”

Leor stares at the talking corpse with a confused look.

“You don’t even know about it!?” laughs Alfred. “You’re in for a surprise then... I’ll see you soon.” His body evaporates into light, leaving behind Leor’s broken sword in the mud. His disappearance shocks him for only a brief moment but leaves just as quickly. With heavy shoulders and stiff legs, Leor calls his swords home and drags his feet to Ceri’s corpse.