"Welcome back, buddy. Still feel like fighting alone?" Aaron asked his ego weapon teasingly, his tone light yet pointed.

The black sphere vibrated intensely, evidently having endured enough humiliation for the moment. It transformed back into a sleek wristband, wrapping itself securely around Aaron's right wrist with a subtle click of compliance.

Aaron smiled faintly, noting the ego weapon's submissive action as a small victory in their dynamic.

Through the black sphere's confrontation, Aaron had gleaned two crucial pieces of information that would shape his future interactions with it.

The ego weapon proved weak when operating in isolation, unable to harness its true potential without synergy or guidance.

And secondly, his ego weapon exhibited a highly egoistic nature, prideful and resistant to subordination.

This vital information provided Aaron with essential insights on how to handle and cultivate his ego weapon moving forward, refining his approach to maximize its utility.

Terry, still confined within the boundaries of the isolated space, wore a deepening frown on his synthetic features, the unexpected turn of events piercing through his operational calm.

Aaron's decisive action of forcefully retrieving the black sphere from the spatial trap had been potent enough to breach the dulled emotional safeguards of Terry, eliciting a rare flicker of genuine emotion from the android.

"Could you analyze his actions?" Terry queried his supporting AI systems, seeking clarity amid the anomaly.

[Negative,] came the concise response, underscoring the limitations of their analytical capabilities.

"You can quit trying," Aaron interjected knowingly. "You will never be able to figure me out. You can take a break for now. Your next opponent will be decided soon enough," he informed Terry, having effortlessly read the android's internal thoughts with intrusive precision.

"System?" Terry called out with a pronounced frown, his processors racing to address the breach.

[Unknown wave infiltrating your brain, host,] the system reported, detecting the anomalous intrusion.

"Block it," Terry demanded firmly, his displeasure evident at the violation of his mental sanctity by an external entity.

[Attempt to block infiltration failed,] the system relayed, its efforts proving futile.

"Try again!" Terry insisted, unwilling to accept the vulnerability.

[Initiating protocol to block wave infiltration.]

[Attempt failed. Unable to block wave infiltration.]

The system's revelation was sufficient for Terry to grasp the terrifying extent of the final adversary's capabilities, a chilling insight into the insurmountable barrier ahead.

"System, hibernate my mind till time for the next battle," Terry instructed decisively, closing his eyes as he prepared to enter a state of suspended cognition.

[Command received.]

[Shutting down brain.]

[Temporarily taking control till the end of hibernation.]

[Initialization complete.]

"Quite the interesting and decisive man he is," Aaron remarked with a appreciative smile, finding himself unable to probe Terry's thoughts any longer due to the hibernation protocol.

[Honestly, Aaron, prying into someone's thoughts is low,] the system chided.

"You are the last person to say that to me," Aaron retorted lightly, shifting his gaze toward the next unfolding confrontation.

The battle between Borax and the vampire primogenitor.

---

Borax, a formidable being hailing from the Colossal race. A lineage bearing similarities to the ancient Titans, yet distinguished by fundamental differences in their essence and capabilities.

He towered as a living monument to existence itself, his baseline height already surpassing the loftiest skyscrapers constructed in the mortal realms, casting shadows that could eclipse entire landscapes.

Each deliberate movement he made carried the immense weight of towering mountains, every exhaled breath sending subtle tremors rippling through the surrounding air like the shifting of colossal tectonic plates beneath the earth.

Unlike the adaptable Titans, whose massive forms could condense and shrink to blend unnoticed among lesser beings, the Colossals were inherently bound by their overwhelming enormity, their most compact stature still reaching heights that scraped the very heavens, unyielding in their grandeur.

But Borax stood apart even among his kin.

A special Colossal, born with an extraordinarily rare magnitude that set him as an anomaly within the already immense race, his presence commanding awe and reverence.

His size possessed the capacity to swell to incomprehensible proportions, expanding outward until entire continents diminished to insignificant specks of dust beneath his unyielding gaze, until sprawling planets appeared as nothing more than tiny marbles adrift in the palm of his vast, unblinking eyes.

His formidable form resembled a living landscape sculpted from raw power, a sentient world molded meticulously in the image of absolute dominion and unassailable strength.

His skin exhibited the rugged shade of weathered stone interlaced with a faint, metallic luster, composed of immense plates that shimmered subtly with the distant reflections of twinkling starlight filtering through the void.

Every subtle shift or gesture released low, resonant echoes that reverberated through the space, as if the very fabric of reality groaned and strained beneath the sheer magnitude of his presence.

His eyes burned with a faint, golden intensity, radiating a calm yet profoundly ancient wisdom, holding within them the cold, unflinching awareness of one who had witnessed the cataclysmic crumbling and rebirth of entire galaxies across eons.

The extraordinary eyes of Borax granted him the ability to perceive objects of exceedingly small size with effortless clarity, his highly advanced ocular capabilities allowing him to focus and discern microscopic details as if they were magnified under a powerful lens.

He fixed his piercing stare upon the vampire primogenitor clone, noting its facial features that mirrored those of Aaron, who remained seated regally upon his throne of shadows.

The clone possessed an ethereal pale skin that gleamed like polished marble under the faint cosmic glow, complemented by two prominent fangs that protruded slightly, hinting at its predatory nature.

Dispensing with any pretense of formalities or hesitation, Borax swung his enormous palm toward the vampire clone, the massive appendage blotting out the entire surrounding area with its overshadowing breadth, eclipsing the space like a descending veil of inevitability.

Borax's palm loomed overhead, completely blotting the expanse above the vampire clone, its descent inexorable and all-encompassing.

It evoked the sensation of the entire sky plummeting down upon a solitary figure, offering no feasible avenue for escape or evasion from the overwhelming collapse.

The vampire clone observed the palm's inexorable fall toward him with unflinching composure, not even entertaining the notion of fleeing or dodging the assault—it would prove futile in the face of such scale.

"Blood spikes," the vampire clone uttered calmly, his voice steady amid the impending doom.

Spikes forged from coagulated blood materialized in vast numbers, their crimson forms piercing the void with lethal intent.

They proliferated across the area, spanning several kilometers in a dense, haphazard array that filled the space like a forest of sharpened threats.

Each spike stretched to lengths comparable to towering communication structures, their tips honed to razor sharpness that glinted menacingly.

The palm of Borax finally descended upon the array of blood spikes, the impact driving the pointed formations through his flesh, impaling his hand and anchoring it in place, effectively preventing it from crushing the vampire clone beneath its weight.

"Urgh!" Borax groaned in discomfort, retracting his massive hand with a grimace of pain, the sensation akin to being pricked by a multitude of sharp needles amplified to colossal proportions.

He glared at the vampire clone with seething hatred fueled by the throbbing agony, his golden eyes narrowing before he reached behind to retrieve his colossal hammer from its resting place on his back.

Since attempting to squash the clone with his bare palm had been thwarted by his own pain receptors, he reasoned that employing a weapon impervious to such sensations would yield a different, more favorable outcome.

With cold, unyielding precision, Borax swung his hammer downward, convinced that this strike would diverge significantly from the previous failed attempt, its arc tracing a path of destructive inevitability.

The vampire clone responded with a subtle smile, gracefully moving his hands in gestures reminiscent of a puppeteer manipulating strings to control a distant mannequin.

Borax staggered backward abruptly, reeling from a powerful blow inflicted by his own hammer, which had been redirected by his own hand under an external influence.

After a moment, Borax regained his footing, a deep frown etching across his monumental features. His right hand had become entirely unresponsive to his will, commandeered by an insidious external force that dictated its movements against his intentions.

He found himself devoid of any control over his right hand, the appendage now a puppet to a manipulator that orchestrated its actions with eerie autonomy.

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