Adams Vs Oblivion 2

Adams stood there, blade resting on his shoulder, his expression frozen mid-smirk. Oblivion's words hung in the air, crawling under his skin like they were meant to provoke something deeper.

"Flawed?" Adams repeated slowly, his voice low and edged with curiosity. He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to decide whether to laugh or take it seriously.

"Yes," Oblivion replied, stepping forward. Each step dissolved the ground beneath it, leaving a trail of nothingness. "For all your power, for all your bravado, you cannot see beyond the limited perfection you believe yourself to embody."

The gods froze. They had never heard anyone speak to Adams like this—not as an opponent, but as if dissecting him, peeling back layers no one dared touch.

Adams's smirk faded, replaced with something far more dangerous—a calmness too measured, too sharp. "You talk like you know me," he said, voice quiet but heavy.