The forest held its breath as Yami's transformation completed, his human form replaced by an eerie, spectral figure—The Death Deity. His bones glowed a faint, ghostly white, wrapped in wisps of black fabric that flowed and twisted like smoke around his skeletal frame. Shredded black cloth clung to his shoulders, trailing down to his waist, where a dark robe flowed down and draped over him, casting shadows across the ground. His hair had become a wild mane of spiky, jet-black strands that spilled over his back, reaching to his waist like the tendrils of an onyx flame.
A skeletal hand clenched, faint whirls of ghostly energy swirling around his fingers. His hollow eye sockets gleamed with a dark intensity, focused solely on the creature before him. He tilted his head slightly, an unnatural gesture that would have looked unsettling to anyone watching. His once-human eyes had been replaced by two deep, empty abysses that seemed to devour the very light around them.
The monster's twisted form staggered, shifting uneasily as it tried to process this new threat. Its two heads turned, each grotesque face stretching into snarls, its twenty bulging eyes rolling wildly as it seemed to size up this skeletal being.
Without a word, Yami vanished, a mere flicker against the backdrop of darkened trees and gnarled branches. In an instant, he reappeared, directly in front of the creature, raising a single bony knuckle and tapping it against the monster's massive chest. For a moment, there was no movement, only a low rumble echoing in the air as if the very atmosphere held its breath. Then, with a thunderous crash, the creature flew backward, hurtling through trees and smashing through boulders, uprooting the ground in its violent trajectory.
Hundreds of feet away, the beast finally crashed into a hillside, causing dirt and shattered rock to erupt around it like a cloud of debris. It lay stunned for a moment, its many eyes blinking in disorientation as it struggled to stand, its clawed hands grasping at the ground as it tried to pull itself up. Its body quivered, unnatural and raw, but as it finally rose, the creature locked eyes—or what it assumed were eyes—with the figure that now stood before it, unmoved and silent.
Yami stood right in front of the monster's larger head, his skeletal hand raised. For a split second, the creature hesitated, a flicker of primal fear crossing one of its twisted faces. But Yami didn't wait for it to react. With a swift movement, his bony fingers closed around the base of one of the monster's two heads, the one closest to him. The creature's flesh resisted, thick and unyielding like hardened rock, but Yami's grip only tightened, his fingers sinking deeper into its grotesque form.
With a chilling calmness, he began to pull. A sickening rip echoed through the forest, filling the air as his skeletal fingers tore through the dense, rubbery flesh and sinew. His movements were unhurried, almost patient, as though every action was as natural as breathing.
The creature writhed and thrashed, its remaining head letting out a guttural roar as it tried to free itself from his grip, clawing at him with desperate fury. But the skeletal being before it remained unaffected, its grip steadfast and merciless. Yami held tight, slowly twisting his arm, and with one final wrench, tore the head free from its base. Blood, dark and thick, gushed from the gaping wound as the severed head dangled limply in his hand.
A sickly silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the sound of dripping blood and the labored breaths of the wounded creature.