Blind Judgment, Part Three.

Charging his fist into the air after launching from the rooftop, Naraku threw a burning punch at his enemy's open face. However, Alex's pose wasn't simply stylish. From his finger's tip, a spark burst into existence. Incinerating the air below him as it bolted downward at lightspeeds, Naraku's eyes widened.

Shot out the air, he tumbled into the street, quickly recapturing his balance and standing tall. Clenching his fists, veins popping out his skin to plaster his arms, the Jester dominated the Emperor's conscience and stared above instead. The Judge, hovering overhead, with not even the slightest preparation of an eventual attack... seemed to glare.

There was the oddest energy pouring from him. Like a burning flame inside that seemed to ignite everything—that even the slightest touch against that fire would ashen a weak finger. Surely, he hadn't been so arrogant until now? Flashes of that mesmerizing experience appeared to the forefront of his mind, that traumatizing event where his assaulter's white strands moved in tandem with the wind. Even while commencing such violent moves was he able to maintain his beautiful status… to think an inferior being like the Judge would reach such a height. Compared to the dangers of the Reaper's might, it could only send him to growl.

How angrier could he become, though? Reach the heights of his limits with what little strength he'd muster, loosen his attachment to the present--adrift in the seas of rage? Cracking his knuckles altogether with his fingers' collective might, the same action followed to his neck, unleashing an identical pop from his skin's inside. This was not the climax of their spat. Not at this time, not in this place. Burdened by the path engraved in time's flow he witnessed with unwavering eyes, he sighed.

Raising his fists, skidding apart his feet, forming a hole in his legs, he gazed forward. The higher reflection of Alex's hovering figure reflected in his black eyes. Instantaneously, the Judge warped before him, mimicking the stance he took with identical footing and hands pointed ahead. Neither of them spoke a word, instead, they were surrounded by the silence of the world. Even the military's imminent presence with rolling tanks and arming cannon rumbling across the stony streets wasn't enough to send them flying off-balance. Whether or not the sun would explode in the time it'd take for their hands to move, it wouldn't matter.

That look in Alexander's eyes said it all. Without regret, he steadily marched toward the light at the road's end. The world was cruel but he persisted--he still loved. The pinnacle of human intelligence, enlightenment. The Jester, Icarus, moved, henceforth starting the battle. But it didn't matter, as his fingers' tips penetrated the air with a stabbing motion, time's flow halted even more. Words painted in his voice reverberated throughout his mind's depths whilst his arm extended. Alex couldn't believe his eyes as he tandem moved with Chrollo's stretch. That grin tainting the Jester's lips... sure enough, it couldn't have been. It was neither malicious nor hateful.

'Don't die here. I want to hear... your truth!'

It was genuine. Pure, human sincerity.

Alex initially swatted the piercing blow away, this time, going for a simple sweep; aiming for the legs. Jumping right over with a miniature leap, Icarus utilized but one leg, aiming for an uppercut kick at the chin. What he expected to be a futile effort decided solely on adrenaline turned out to work, for Al's head was thrown back, however momentarily. Spit dirtying the atmosphere, Icarus took this opportunity with wide eyes and went for the same moves he'd added onto Kima's person during their fight.

His hands already seemed to move like blurs. No doubt his speed was unequal to the Requiem might he possessed, meaning he could charge straight ahead while Icarus prepared his hands. Punching at his face, the Jester's eyes immediately widened, and he went for a backward launch. Gracing the streets with his bare feet, Icarus watched a streak of white blast his hair back, a strengthened presence manifesting behind him. Gritting his teeth, he helplessly watched as the Judge aimed his fist toward Icarus's left cheek. The same movement he'd done earlier but from a lower origin compared to prior. This time, in the few seconds he had to analyze, he could realize... grabbing his fist wouldn't be enough. Instead, his black eyes were shaded the opposite hue and menacingly glistened ivory.

Now encased in Naraku's aura shifted into a blackened cloak, the Emperor caught Alex's fist and threw him into a nearby wall. Yelling as he was spun into his body-shaped crater, Amara recollected composure with a head shake. He gasped, then rolled to the right, watching as the wall split apart from a blade's invisible wrath, collapsing to multiple carved pieces littering the concrete sidewalk.

Suddenly, his speed increased, and Naraku, aiming invisible slashes, was suddenly without a right arm. Turning to notice the stump on his right replacing his stolen limb, the Demon Emperor's white glow faded from his vessel's darkened pupils, leaving him to simply wonder,

"Huh?"

Immediately regrowing his mutilated arm, Icarus swiftly spun around, meeting his knuckles with Alex's palm. Slapping his fist away, Amara went on the defensive, allowing the Jester to aim a mid-air sidekick to his opponent's head as he stepped back. Gracefully landing as his foot connected to Alex's arms serving as defense, the Judge kicked at his enemy's knee, leaving him to grunt. However, he didn't fall. Instead, after recuperating from the hit seconds afterward, he sped ahead, now branding a misty scythe. Swiping the largened weapon right down Alex's center from his head, suddenly, once the tip pierced the ground, the Judge sidestepped. Grasping the handle with his telekinetic prowess, Icarus was left temporarily confused, glancing at his empty hands.

That was until a telekinetic blast slammed Chrollo away like a fly, into another wall left intact nearby, leaving Alex alone on this sole street. Rubbing his nape with a sleepy moan and a yawn following, he turned away.

"Wait..." Weakly lamented the Jester from the other street, "I can still... fight."

He halted in his tracks at his rival's rasped vocals. Raising his hand to his head, he split apart his strands, allowing for it all to rest over his shoulders--then swiping it away so it could rest on his back.

"Sorry..." Alexander turned to face the crippled Demon King, ominously glaring as his white eyes shone with Dark Determination's fiery ball glowing at the center, "But I'm busy right now."

For a final time, he crunched on his hand, bursting apart his body. Expanding to such a size he towered over the exorbitant buildings littered about the streets, he stepped. Reaching his leg to stand upon the street where the Jester's beaten body laid defeated, implanted in his puddle of growing blood only lightening redder and redder as the seconds turned to a minute. Their bout was short and irrelevant. This acknowledgment sent Al, threaded by light strings inside his Giant, to kneel. Unraveling the Mask of the Goliath's head to reveal the attached Alexander, the Jester invoked a pathetic chortle, watching as the Galactic Giant outreached out his ginormous hand.

Confining Icarus to the prison of Alex's plasma-white form, gradually, he started to disintegrate. The fair white skin that painted his flesh began to char, singing his clothing to fragments staggering in the coming spring's cool winds. Eventually, Alex would drop the Jester from his Giant, but not without leaving him in a form akin to a black skeleton with singed chunks of burnt flesh attached to the outskirts of his steaming excrements. Though his tongue remained nonexistent, his soul a step away from death, Icarus uttered...

"Not bad..."

Before he faded away to the unpredictable domain of the unknown unconscious.

To Be Continued.