Extradition [Alex, Metatron]

Another day near the pit. Not like Alex was too scared of it at this point, though. In fact, he'd settled into things as if it were any other trip he'd taken in his younger years, an impromptu tent hung over a a few tree branches, a small fire, and a bowl of soup that looked like it had been made of whatever he'd managed to scrape together in the area.

Most people probably would have found living like this to be a sort of hell, but for Alex, it was just what he knew best. Even all these hollows around here weren't anything to worry about, for a few reasons. He could turn anything that ran toward him to a fucking pulp, for one things, and for another, his own existence was one that bordered danger close to hollow itself at times. Hisana had said as much, after all, and it wasn't like that thought was toos urprising.

Tch, whatever. Finishing a can of soda, Alex simply threw it into the massive pit, wholly unconcerned at the notion that he might anger something inside it. He had other things on his mind, and frankly, he wanted one of those guys to pop up. Good opportunity to give 'em a piece of his mind.

Reports had made it to Metatron of a wandering intruder in the lands around the great chasm. This person, a being of considerable power, confused the Hollows who came near him due to the strange scent wafting off of him. When the reports made their way to Metatron, he wondered if it was just a mix-up with one of the disgusting creatures Asher had, in his infinite generosity, offered an alliance to. Either way it would be up to him to resolve the matter through diplomacy or violence, though his idea of diplomacy often involved vaporizing someone.

With a loud pop Metatron appeared a couple dozen feet above the bare-bones, crudely made camp attributed to the interloper. Behind his obscuring helmet he looked down at the human who did have a strangely Hollow-like odor to his Reiatsu. Perhaps he is similar to that freakish creature Khaana? The Zealot couldn't be sure, all he knew was he didn't recognize whoever or whatever he was. In a booming, alien voice Metatron announced his arrival to the stranger.

"Heretic, stay where you are and die immediately. Refusal will result in your death."

With no other warning, Metatron raised his hand and fired a blindingly bright Cero from his index finger as hot as it was white. It quickly widened enough to completely envelop Alex's camp and more.

Awesome. That was the full extent of what ran through Alex's mind as this new guy showed up, and he frowned to himself as most of his camp was wiped out before the cero even actually hit. Great. Whipping around, his fist slammed into the beam itself, purple flame bursting outward to clash against the more immediate impact. When it was all said and done, he brushed himself off, briefly checking his attire for any especially outstanding burns.

"Hey, jackass, you're real fuckin' lucky I camp on a shoestring budget. If I had any pricey gear get lost in that neat trick of yours, I'd be telling you to hand over your wallet."

Rolling his shoulders, Alex looked upward at the figure before raising his hands in what could be perhaps charitably referred to as a combat stance. It was quite transparently not any sort of formal style; Alex didn't really care about that kind of thing, after all.

"Anyway. I'm mostly just here to see what's up down there. You gonna tell me, or am I gonna need to put you through a juicer and squeeze it out of you? Either one works, I'm not too picky right now."

So this one truly does possess some amount of strength? Metatron knew if any others had been sent to deal with this problematic interloper, they would have been destroyed. So great was his confidence in his power to eradicate all those who oppose Heaven that surviving one of his Cero was an otherwise improbable, if not impossible, feat. He didn't bother listening to Alex's protests, the cries of a human weren't worth the effort to him.

"On behalf of Commander Asher and Heaven's Will I, Metatron, Warrior of God, sentence you to death. Surrender yourself to God's love."

To emphasize the sincerity of this death sentence, the Zealot reached out and aimed all the fingers of his right hand at Alex. From each fingertip a golden light appeared, which turned into small beams that converged upon a single point a few inches away. Then, from this point, a much larger golden beam of fire erupted and blasted toward his target. Auriel's Fire continued to channel unabated, a continuous, destructive ray of fire seeking to turn Alex into a pile of ash.

Oh, it was fire. Not too bad, either, it was actually pretty hot. One hand shot downward into the ground below, fingers reaching into the earth and getting a firm grip. Heat coursed through his hands and into the ground below, and with only a bit of effort, Alex tore the earth upward, a large chunk of burning hot ground flying toward Metatron at pretty impressive speed.

"Sorry, guy, I'm not religious. But I guess since you wanna make this a contest, I'm down to show you what real heat looks like."

Purple flame more fully erupted from Alex now, clashing against the fire Metatron was sending toward him with a metallic clang despite its appearance. Maiden Masher had always been unusual, but over the years Alex had gotten pretty good at figuring it out. Not to mention, he'd sure as fuck gotten better at actually throwing it, despite how heavy it was.

"I'm a pretty reasonable guy, I like to think. Not too late to just use your words."

So this human is more than an annoyance after all thought Metatron as he continued analyzing the situation as it evolved. Seeing his previous Cero prove ineffective was enough to annoy him, while Alex's refusal to buckle against Auriel's Fire, an ability named for one of Heaven's mightiest, grandest angels, downright infuriated Metatron. The chunk of earth smashing apart against him exacerbated this feeling, though it did little beyond that as his hard carapace was shown to be unblemished after.

"Your arrogance in the face of God's wrath is a stain upon this world, blasphemer. Heaven was willing to grant you a swift death, but I will no longer be so kind."

The beam of fire extending from Metatron's hand was snuffed out as he finished speaking, his hand still glowing brightly from the blinding flame. Without any warning he slammed his thumb into the palm of his left hand, piercing his thick skin and drawing a trickle of blood that dropped down far to the earth below. As he withdrew his thumb, a sudden surge of energy far greater than before gathered around his hand until it coalesced into a single sphere of pure light.

Metatron turned his hand once more to aim at Alex, then fired the sphere he'd created with energy and blood. As it careened through the air it began spinning and distorting the space around it, while also whipping up a frenzied tempest that beat and battered the dried out ground around Alex's camp. The blast grew and grew until it was like a second Sun set to turn the entire area into even more of a barren wasteland than it already was.

"That's a shame, I'll have to let the wife know I missed out."

Despite his relaxed demeanor, Alex understood that he was going to need to actually be more careful now. He was plenty familiar with Hollows, so he wasn't intent on letting a cero infused with blood just slam right into him. They had some fancy name, but he definitely wasn't really remembering whatever the fuck it was. His foot hit the ground, and he bolted away from the point of impact as purple flame quickly formed into a ball in one hand. Even so, the sheer size of the explosion meant it caught him, and he winced from the intensity of the attack.

"Anyway, guess it's a fight. I'll look forward to pummeling this out of you."

As if pitching a baseball, Alex slammed his other foot into the ground, and threw the fireball toward Metatron with no small amount of force. He'd packed a lot of heat and a lot of flame into such a small space, and thrown it with enough force that he could probably pierce the average building no problem. Just had to hope this guy wasn't so fast he'd evade it after such a big attack.

Even through the blinding light of his Gran Rey Cero, Metatron's gaze followed the movements of his target as Alex dodged out of the way to avoid the brunt of it. It was apparent stomping out this vermin would require a little more effort than he thought. For a human of all things to so confidently, arrogantly, stand up to Heaven's might disgusted Metatron. This heathen apparently didn't understand what he was rebelling against.

"Not even the fires of Hell could save you now."

As Alex's ball of fire careened through the air, Metatron stood unwavering as he prepared to dismiss the counterattack like a swatter against a fly. Without provocation another blinding Cero fired from in front of the Zealot and struck then overwhelmed the fireball, enveloping it completely. But something was wrong. Metatron could sense its presence still there. At the last second he unfurled and wrapped himself in his glowing wings, shielding himself from the worst of the discolored flame. While his wings could stop the heat from melting through his chest, he still felt as if his foe had sucker punched him and Metatron was knocked back a few dozen feet through the air by the force.

"What?!"

This human was proving more and more dangerous, not to himself or Asher, but to the rest of their forces or those disgusting Arrancar who allied with them. Scorch marks darkened the outside of his brightly lit wings. He spread them to their full size, nearly eighteen feet from tip to tip, and extended his arm. Atop his upturned palm a sphere of energy formed, but instead of being fired as an attack it was reabsorbed into his body which then began glowing dully. Barachiel's Blessing gifted Metatron with a sizeable boost to his speed, strength, and durability.

In a flash Metatron shot toward Alex, descending from the sky like a heaven-blessed falcon, and upon reaching the human the Zealot aimed an empowered punch square on his jaw. From Metatron's glowing fist an explosion would erupt on impact, the blow triggering yet another Cero if it lands.

"Didn't think they would, pretty sure hell's supposed to be pretty rough, yeah?"

Of course, this fight was rough. If he wasn't so used to throwing hands by now, he might've thought he was dead to rights. But getting hit by a few of these cero was just fine in his book. He could feel himself adapting to it, his body adjusting to how it worked and building up some tolerance. It wasn't enough yet, but he'd manage for now.

At the very least, even if this guy was fast, it wasn't such a huge gulf that Alex was doomed, and he had enough time to brace himself for a counterattack. Dodging? Probably not in the question, not without opening himself up. But that was fine, Alex wasn't one to dodge anyway. His right arm was filled to the brim with searing heat, not quite enough to hurt him long-term, but enough that he'd probably be able to give himself a nice bruise. As Metatron's fist shot toward Alex, he shifted his footing only slightly, and his own punch flew forward as well, allowing Metatron's blow to collide with his face as his own scorching straight right went to slam into Metatron's face in turn.

The cero? Yeah, that was bad. Burns had begun to cross his skin, something he knew was no small feat based on how much punishment he could handle. But it was fine. He just had to hold out, after all. He'd always done that.

Amidst the sensation of his fist striking true and the ensuing explosion from his Cero, Metatron's face was struck by what felt like a flaming cinderblock. For the first time ever, cracks formed in his tough Hollow carapace that's better described as concrete than skin. The force of the human's punch near caused Metatron to recoil, but he steadied himself by planting his right foot. He would not falter here against this heathen, nor in his Mission as God's Chosen.

With Heaven's will at his back, Metatron went back on the attack. He raised both fists above his head, fingers interlocked, and swung downwards in a brutal hammer blow aimed for Alex's head. Just as before an explosion of Sun-bright energy would erupt from the collision, it's severity doubled as each of his fists was imbued with the might of a Cero.

Metatron was no fool, he could feel hitting this human was like striking a steel anvil, but he could see no possible ending to this duel besides his own victory. God would not allow it. No cracks in his armor or scorch marks on his wings could prevent it.