Chapter Text
It wasn't a deliberate outcome. Not something they ever expected would actually happen, even if the chance of it happening was not zero. They had once, after a hard, exhausting, battle for both sides, looking at the crooked, dirty, destroyed landscape left in rubble and beyond repair by either the Defender or the Destroyer with the power of the code, surmised that it was not only their quarrel that was responsible for so much damage, but perhaps the fact that their powers, inherently opposite to each other in polarity but equal in power, could have caused... an unexpected horrifying effect in direct collisions. It was just a theory and no one bothered to test it. The results could have been either not worth the attention and effort spent, or too unpredictable.
Even if it was interesting enough to wonder about it from time to time, Nightmare was too disinterested in cleaning up the mess afterwards, and Sol didn't approve of the wasted effort that could go into annoying his Darling.
The thought simply lingered on the edge of the minds of both until. It had not acquired the actual facts of its existence.
Another confrontation was... Wild. Neither of the two Corrupted and Ascended former guards could say what had led up to it. Only the bubbling magic in the ley-lines, rage and lust for violence warping their judgement. (Even if Nightmare assures them that Saul is just a psychopath without a mind.)
While bright white bones with sharp phalanges clawed into the viscous black slurry, eager to get to the bones beneath and crush, burn, melt, cause suffering and savour the other's wrath, black phalanges with equally sharp ends tore feathers, spilling golden ichor covering both struggling sides.
Sol laughed brightly, in pain, in pleasure, ignoring any injuries that quickly healed or fizzled from collision with the spoils of negativity, causing pus, acid decay and regenerating from scratch.
Nightmare hated every moment of the other's existence that he couldn't make him suffer, sob, beg for mercy or plead for death, be it salvation. He was in pain! Everything was burning, vaporising and humming. His calm flowing magic that he was covered in was churning and constantly changing shape, no longer able to stay in place.
It was a nasty clash of claws and phalanges, opposites, teeth and feathers, pleasure and cruelty, pain and boundless violence. Nothing but an endless desire to get rid of the enemy, to devour him, to dominate and crush him, just to get him to his feet, killed or broken, whatever.
They were not even distracted by the muffled cracking sound, reminiscent of brittle glass going crack by crack, expanding and taking over more territory. Along with the sound, the very fuzzy image of chipping beneath two struggling bodies that were too immersed in the lust of fighting for pure, animal dominance over the other was not noticed. Until they became so huge, so loud, that instead of a barely perceptible rumble underneath endless deep growls, screams of rage and anger and hatred, and bright cheeky insolent laughter, distorted with echoes of brutality towards the end, broke into a disarming screeching ringing of pure wrongness, engulfing the two figures entwined in each other as one, wanting only to tear each other apart at a close encounter.