BATTLE: Sparga vs Kado

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BATTLE
Sparga vs Kado


The following is a ONE on ONE combat scenario between Sparga and Kado.


Standard T-1 rules apply.

There will be no time limit between posts to allow both participants the maximum time needed to realize their full potential in their writing and respect one another's personal lives outside of Role Play.

The events of this encounter will by default be assumed as Non-Canonical to either participant's personal character story, but may be considered as canon upon discussion between combatants at their convenience.

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LOCATION
Earth's Moon

For the purposes of this scenario, the moon will be determined to possess its own atmosphere for characters who cannot breathe in space, allowing for sufficient freedoms. However, venture too far from the moon into deeper outer space, and any characters who lack the ability to breathe in space will find themselves quickly in need of oxygen, requiring a return to either Earth or the Moon.

The moon is currently facing the Earth, with the Sun on the other side of the planet, creating faint rays of solar light that crest over the Earth to reach the moon.


Date: August, Age 857
Time: Early Morning, between 4AM and 7AM


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POST ORDER:

Sparga > Kado > Repeat
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The peace of the moment was more than appreciated, the quiet of space keeping him far enough away from everything to take a moment to compose himself - gather his thoughts, and find his center again after all the chaos and urgency of pressing matters. He knew he’d have to get back to business soon, he didn’t have the luxury of time spent wasting away to ground himself out too much right now. Not when he was needed. But he desperately needed the quiet, the clarity of stillness. Sparga was anxious, in ways that weren’t helpful. Not as if anxiety was ever helpful, for sure, but he had so much to worry about. The Earth is still unsure about his place as Superman, and the people are still nervous. Some small measures of support had been coming in and showing he was welcome and that he wasn’t going to be judged by his father’s actions. But people were still doubtful, and he wanted to ease their fears. But that wouldn’t be easy to do when the pressing matter of a rogue Kryptonian warlord was stealing dragon balls out from under his nose while he was otherwise occupied and distracted with other things that required his attention. Thankfully, one of the dragon balls was out of his reach for the time being, but Sparga knew that he couldn’t hide it for forever. He needed a greater assurance of safety to prevent them from being misused.

The Saiyan Kryptonian hybrid was sure that he could resolve the issue if it came to blows, but he didn’t want to resort to having to use his fists to solve the problem - doing so is tantamount to failure as far as he’s concerned, when his goals are more aligned with protecting others and keeping them safe. So to help ground himself, he stole a few precious minutes to take it in and remind himself what he was fighting for. Here, up in the moon, he could focus and relax, admiring and appreciating how small the world really is and how fragile it is - the Earth, for all its beauty and splendor, really is just a small little sphere of water and mud shielded from the coldness of space by a paper-thin sheet of oxygen.

And yet it remained so resilient, so defiant against the odds, and so enduring that he couldn’t help but smile despite his nerves. For all their fears and maladies about his existence, the people of Earth were still so strong and proud and unrelenting that it was a constant reminder of how unbeatable they really were. That, even though he wore the S on his chest, anyone and everyone could be a Superman. It was a comforting notion.

Still, he couldn’t find an answer to his problem. He was too anxious to think clearly, even as his nerves soothed into a more eased mood. Sparga exhaled and let his tail twitch in agitation. He couldn’t just sit idly by and wait for something to happen. It didn’t help at all that his body was restless as all get-out. His feet wanted to move, but he had no direction to move toward. There was that ever-present gnawing in the back of his soul, that urge. That itch that could never be truly relieved. He ran the fingers of both hands through his hair to scratch the back of his scalp before grumbling out a frustrated growl at nothing in particular.

Sparga: “Ahhh… Man… What am I supposed to do?”

He stared at his palms, enclosing his fingers in and out to make fists before clenching one tightly and before he could even think about it, his body instinctively and impulsively threw a punch. The sharp movement snapped into perfect motion, effortlessly twisting the forearm to direct the momentum into a push of force and strength. He paused, staring at his outstretched fist. He was trying so hard to fight that warrior’s urge to just go find Zod and pummel him into a pulp, but then what would that solve?

Sure, he’d get the dragon balls back, but then he’d just be perpetuating the cycle of violence he was so desperate to end. As he retracted his fist, his gaze turned solemn. Maybe Chronoa was right, maybe he should stop trying to fight that instinct so much… Resisting it was doing nothing but frustrating him further. He needed some kind of outlet, something to direct his pent-up momentum. Thankfully, no one was here on the moon with him.

Reluctantly, he gave in to the instinct and kicked up into action, gliding through the air and swiping his leg out in a wide arc that twisted him into a rotating twirl before he could then send a few dozen punches out to expel all this frenetic anxiety bottled up. It helped… some. But not enough. He needed something to really get his blood pumping and help him blow off some steam.

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It was a rare, quiet day on Earth. He was finally starting to adjust to life on this strange world—countless, unthinkable miles from the place he once called home. Lying in an open field, hands tucked behind his head, he stared up at the sun. His mind wandered. What was his next move? Where would he stay? How would he fill the endless hours? He didn’t have the answers—not yet. For now, the stillness around him drew him into his meditative routine, something drilled into him long ago. A calm mind was a sharp mind, his training had taught him, and keeping it that way was the key to staying at his peak. However, he knew better than to fall into the habit of focusing only on his mind—neglecting his body would be just as dangerous. He needed a way to shake the rust off. Pushing himself up from the grass, he lifted his hands into view, studying them in the light. Slowly, he curled his fingers into fists, feeling the familiar current of energy pulsing through his veins.

Rising to his feet, he began firing a rapid stream of jabs into the air. His arms moved so fast they left faint afterimages trailing behind each strike. He was confident in his speed, yet a nagging thought lingered—he could be even faster, if only something pushed him to his limits. He let his final punch fly, then allowed his arms to fall loosely at his sides. Slowly, his head swept from one side to the other, senses sharpening until they could pick out even the faintest pulse of life energy. Yet, to his disappointment, everyone he knew who might have been willing to fight was either off-world or caught up in their own affairs.

Then—like a sudden spark in the dark—he felt it. A familiar energy signature brushed against his awareness, and his eyes widened. He knew exactly who it belonged to.

Kado: “Sparga…” he murmured.

But the sensation was coming from much farther away than expected. What was the Saiyan of Steel doing way out there? Was he training? Or, like him, simply passing the time in quiet contemplation? Whatever the reason, this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for—and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

He locked onto Sparga’s energy signature and tapped into a technique he’d learned from the Yardratians—a movement so fast it was indistinguishable from teleportation. In an instant, he was there, materializing just nine feet behind Sparga. If his plan had worked, there was no reason not to ready himself for what came next. Using the time to his advantage, he began channeling his energy, letting it build and surge through him, amplifying his strength and sharpening his form. All the while, he stood in silence, waiting for Sparga to sense his presence before making his next move.
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The tranquility of the moon’s isolation came to an abrupt end when the displacement of matter that might only come with the introduction of another material came into being. The sound, the vibrational resonance of weight being added onto the surface of the dusty rock behind him, they rang through his acuity with a near-intrusive swiftness. Sparga’s fist lowered to his side, and he caught himself slipping his facial features into a soft smile before he even made any effort to turn around. That familiar presence that rang in the air as the accumulation of power which came when one might focus their inner vitality and strength. For warriors of his caliber, distinguishing between life forces and spirit was like reading another person’s signature - everyone had their own unique flow that clarified it as their own, unique to them and unmistakable. Sparga’s tail gave a light twitch and flickered as that familiar aura began to swell behind him, and he pivoted at the heel with a slow and deliberate motion.

Sparga: “Kado… It’s been a while.”

The glimmer of jubilation that shone in his cocoa colored eyes betrayed Sparga’s calm features, revealing the elation of seeing his long-time friend and rival again after so long. How long had it been now? The last time he saw him was during the Qliphoth Crisis, which happened and ended as equally as fast, leaving the two little time to speak their farewells. But clearly fate was kind today, for this opportunity presenting itself before him was perfect both in its timing and purpose. He needed a challenge, a real fighter worthy of his strength and more importantly, someone he respected to help him blow off some steam. Maybe then his thoughts could clarify and his heart could lighten from its burdens.

Despite saying nothing to Sparga, the Saiyan of Steel could tell what his purpose was here today. Kado was always a man of few words, but that release of energy flow to stockpile power was unmistakable in both its presence and its intention. In kind, Sparga’s own aura began to surge in his veins, igniting into a gentle stream that began to accumulate and gather into dedication. His power didn’t yet make itself visible, he didn’t push his hidden strength that far into awakening yet. But the sensation of his power awakening into greater vibrancy was unmistakable as the Saiyan Kryptonian hybrid let the deep reserves of strength within his spirit stir from its slumber. Mind and Body as One, his physicality and his senses sharpened as fists clenched to sharpen his knuckles in cohesion with preternatural senses entering a hypervigilant state of attentive awareness so as to ensure no detail might escape his notice, even at the slightest hair trigger’s provocation. Now and ever, he relied on this lesson from his former master as his greatest weapon and asset, more than any amount of physical strength or power - even if that was something he had in abundance. The proud martial artist who so often desperately ensured to cage his warrior’s instincts was standing before a fighter he knew would give him a reason to stay on his toes and keep him from growing complacent. And that slumbering beast within the deepest depths of his soul that so profoundly hungered for a real challenge stirred at such a notion.

Still keeping his senses sharp as his energy gathered like the gentle flow of a stream pooling into a central basin, he calmly raised his hand up and gestured for an approval to approach, wordlessly informing his rival of his own readiness so that they might begin.

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The moment his boots touched the lunar surface, Sparga turned, recognition flashing in his eyes. “It’s been a while,” he said—and it had. Of all places to run into the Saiyan of Steel, the moon was the last he’d expect. He’d assumed the newly appointed Superman would be busy tending to his duties on Earth, not standing idly in this silent, airless place. Still, fate had handed him a rare chance, and he wasn’t about to let it slip away. It had been too long since he’d tested his limits in the field. The instant their gazes met, Sparga could tell this wasn’t just a friendly reunion. The subtle rise in his opponent’s energy was impossible to miss—power steadily climbing, pushing the boundaries of what was humanly, or even superhumanly, possible. A grin tugged at the corners of Sparga’s mouth. His own blood thrummed with anticipation, excitement curling in his chest like a coiled spring. Without thinking, his fingers tightened into a fist, the sound of knuckles cracking echoing through the space. The moon’s stillness was about to be broken.

And just like that, Sparga gave the symbolic gesture to come at him, this left Kado the choice to act. Kado spread his feet a shoulder-width apart, the faint dust glowed underneath the moonlight. Ahead lied Sparga, watchful of his movements. He accelerated at what could be perceived as a instantaneous whisper in the space. One moment he's motionless; the next after-images began mutating. Several ghostly echoes dashed forward, simultaneous projections born of supernatural speed and sensorimotor precision. Eventually, the after-images in question began to swarm around Sparga, weaving in arcs, blurring direction and intent as if every shadow might've been the real Kado. His body was moving so fast his form was splitting into swirling sparks of light. From the very start of his charge, the real Kado had been circling in from behind. His ki, once steady and vibrant, suddenly vanished—drawn completely inward, sealed tight within his body. By hiding his energy like this, he left his opponent blind to his true position, turning uncertainty into a weapon and setting the stage for his element of surprise.

In less than a heartbeat, Kado closed the gap from Sparga’s blind spot—but the approach wasn’t straightforward. His path fractured into streaks of motion, after-images peeling off his body like ripples in reality. Each mirage moved with its own slight variation in speed, creating the illusion of multiple Kados converging at once. The real one masked his presence entirely, suppressing his ki so completely that even Sparga’s instincts would have to guess. He struck from the perfect angle—arms swinging with feral precision, bare knuckles driving toward the Saiyan’s spine. His energy had been condensed into his fist, turning regular punches into power-punches that were significantly amplified by ki, magnifying the impact to catastrophic levels. If the hit landed, it would drive a shockwave deep into Sparga’s body, shaking his skeletal frame and rolling outward to rattle the moon’s core. The ground beneath them convulsed; loose stone fragments launched skyward before settling back into the low lunar gravity. Kado didn’t stop there. He blurred into a furious cascade of strikes, each aimed at vulnerable points along Sparga’s back, every one carrying the same quake-inducing force as the first. Between each punch, his form flickered—sometimes appearing slightly ahead of his actual position, other times behind—an intricate dance of speed mirages and phased movement that made tracking the real Kado nearly impossible. The result was a storm of phantom blows, each one delayed just enough to distort timing, until reality itself seemed to stagger under the assault.

Kado drove in one final punch—this one carrying triple the weight of the others, his physical strength fused with a concentrated surge of ki. If it connected, the blow would hammer the Saiyan of Steel straight into the moon’s surface, sending him skidding face-first across the barren terrain with the air ripped from his lungs. As the dust settled, Kado straightened to his full height, senses razor-sharp, tracking even the slightest twitch of movement. At the same time, he quietly began gathering fresh reserves of energy, pooling it within for the next exchange.
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Less than a fraction of a second after giving his gesture of approval, and Kado was already moving with that famous speed that might beggar belief to lesser fighters. It was a genuine treat to be able to experience that kind of speed and agility from a warrior, something to keep him on his toes and force him to think on his feet. His high perception speed took note of the after-images forming in multiples. Sparga grinned at the sight, scanning to his left and to his right at equally instantaneous speeds, searching for any sort of sign of where the real one might be. But for all his sharp senses and preternatural perception, he couldn’t find one - Kado had gotten faster.

And that thought excited Sparga. Instinctively, he reacted based on his first impulse. As the afterimages multiplied and as the real one moved toward his flank, he raised his foot up and stamped it against the surface of the moon to generate a concussive wave of brutal force that, had they been on Earth, might have forced a tectonic plate to shift too far and generated a high magnitude quake. But here on the moon, where there was no fear of collateral damage, Sparga could release his full strength. The shockwave would reverberate out with monstrous force, a feat of pure strength that didn’t yet rely on his stockpiled Ki reserves. Sparga’s legendary strength making itself known here, the rippling echo of force caused the ground to not just rumble, but collapse beneath him with terrifying effect. Large stones upturned like jagged sharp peaks that might shred fabric and tear into a less careful fighter at an alarming pace, all while the echo of his stomp sent dust long settled into a frenzy to blast out with enough concussive force to level a large building a dozen times over.

Normally a man who prided himself on his ability to react to an opponent’s movements, this lapse in his defenses should have bothered him - but rather it just reinforced his hunger for a real challenge. It was proof that he could still grow and improve. But in the heat of the moment, he defaulted to relying on his second greatest asset: his overwhelming strength. His foot raised itself up to plant back down all within the frame of a single nanosecond so that the destructive shockwave might expand out into a full mile’s range within the following nanosecond, ensuring optimal coverage to keep his blind spot from being exploited. After all, if he couldn’t catch Kado, then he’d just have to make the effort to get within melee range a more difficult task for his opponent.

The rippling echo of force reverberated out like a dome as the dust and dirt kicked into action was blasted out in all directions. All the while, Sparga’s calm expression belied his true eagerness and anticipation. The smile on his face was still on display as his forceful stomp into the dirt sent the shockwave out in order to not only make any movement to strike him more difficult due to the forceful wave smashing outward in an omnidirectional manner., but to also bludgeon Kado with the sheer enormity of the thunderous burst of force enacted onto the environment.

Confident that this defensive maneuver might have merit, he held his ground and bent his knees slightly to give himself a bit more bounce and cushion to his posture. Raising his right fist to tuck it close to his jaw while his left arm steadied itself across his hip and chest, he entered a proper fighting stance and righted himself with a quick inhalation. Sharpening mind and body back into a single unit, he held his guard a little tighter and his reflexes sharpened a little more. If Kado had truly gotten faster, then he’d need to play this smart. Mind and Body as One, he waited to see how successful his efforts might be with his guard raised efficiently and with determination.

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Kado's after-images thickened until they could've easily be perceived as realistic, dozens of echoes blurring around Sparga. The tremor hit like a war drum, a single stomp rattling through the dead crust of the moon and peeling it open in a mile-wide radius. Fractures split the surface, shockwaves rippled outward in concentric rings, and jagged shards of rock catapulted into the void. To the average warrior, the concussive dome would have been an impassable wall of brute strength, but Kado was different. The instant the stomp landed, his body blurred again, every nerve firing with predatory instinct. He didn’t meet the quake head-on. Instead, he let the chaos unfold before him.

He leaned into his speed, muscles coiled, ki compressed into his frame as he cut behind Sparga's flank. His accelerated thought process understood the situation he was in, whilst simultaneously taking into account his opponent's reaction, but he proceeded as originally stated. His arm snapped forward in what looked like a straight punch — but the truth was far more brutal. The sheer velocity of his strike caused his fist to vibrate at impossible frequency, igniting the surrounding airless space with a visible shimmer of friction heat. The vibrations built with every nanosecond of acceleration until his fist became more like a drill than a punch. When it collided with the first jagged upturned stone, it didn’t stop him — the vibrating force shredded it to gravel instantly.

The collapsing terrain, the cascading rock, the rippling shockwave — all of it was broken apart and tunneled through as if his speed itself were a blade. Dust clouds split around him, chunks of debris atomized into fine particles from the resonance. By the time the concussive wave had spread out in all directions, Kado had already carved a direct line through Sparga’s chaotic defense, emerging with his continuous barrage of punches. Kado funneled his ki into his fist, condensing raw force until every strike became a power-blow amplified beyond mortal limits. A single clean hit would drive shockwaves through Sparga’s body, rattling bone, and rolling outward hard enough to shake the moon’s core itself. The ground beneath them convulsed, scattering stone fragments into the thin lunar gravity. But Kado didn’t let the momentum stop there. He exploded into a relentless flurry, his strikes hammering into Sparga’s back with quake-inducing precision. Each blow carried the weight of the first—an impact designed to shatter, not simply bruise. Between punches, his form stuttered and flickered: sometimes a step ahead of where he was, other times trailing behind, weaving a dance of speed mirages and phased motion. To the eye, it looked like a storm of phantom fists, each delayed by a heartbeat, each distorting Sparga’s sense of timing. Reality itself seemed to reel beneath the barrage.

When the storm of blows finally reached its peak, Kado ended it with a decisive strike—one meant to launch Sparga forward and hammer him into the lunar soil with the combined weight of the entire barrage. The Saiyan of Steel was driven down like a meteor, earth and stone caving beneath the force. Kado remained standing above him, calm but unyielding, drawing his power inward. His senses sharpened, his mind steadied—already preparing for the next exchange.
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Sparga was a proud man, confident and sure of his abilities. It was rare for him to ever encounter an opponent who could actually breach his defenses and force him into the back foot, which is why he was often so overconfident to the point of bordering on arrogance. Indeed, one had to be arrogant to call oneself a ‘Superman,’ even when having proven it through action and ability time and time again. It was probably the one thing he acknowledged as a weakness of the mind within himself more than anything else. And Kado was one of the few warriors of a caliber exceptional enough to overcome his arrogance and remind him of his limitations and flaws.

When the first hit hammered into its mark against his back and spine, the reverberating echo of impact was met with a sound like the dull clang of iron thrumming loudly in resonance amidst the thunderclap of force smashing against his spine. The Saiyan Kryptonian hybrid grit his teeth in defiance of the pain, something he rarely got to experience anymore. It was both simultaneously refreshing and frustrating to experience bodily harm after so long. But that was also a testament to Kado’s caliber as a combatant and martial artist. And the sensation of once again standing in the ring with a warrior of genuine skill and determination went a long way to spark back to life the dwindling embers in Sparga’s soul - the slumbering beast stirring in a way the Saiyan of Steel never wanted to admit he enjoyed, even to himself. But it was hard not to feel that rush of adrenaline when a real fight presented itself to him. And his warrior’s instincts roused from their slumber as the sensation drummed throughout his entire physiology with each ripple of vibrational impact. He stumbled forward, right foot planting out to try and catch his balance - only for the next hit to come, and then the next and the one after that as they just kept coming.

Wincing as he felt his footing give out beneath him when the barrage of strikes pushed him off balance and thrust him along with each blow, he snarled and growled in retaliation and bit through the pain to find his grit. With the continual storm of fists that flew his way, Sparga found himself inching forward at alarming speed and his balance tipped forward against his will.

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But as gifted as he was, Sparga knew how to turn even a bad moment to his advantage. Even this. While his body tilted forward under the weight of each incoming blow, he leaned into his lack of balance, and after several more strikes than he’d allow any other opponent, his weight dipped forward as he somersaulted to generate his own momentum. His legs swung up in an arcing rotation, wheeling his entire body at blinding speeds. His hands stamped into the ground before his heels shot upward at their angled ascension all in the span of a single nanosecond so that he could hip the heels and soles of his heavy boots into his opponent’s jaw before the final blow might land in order to punish the assault to his person and gain himself some room to recover.

If successful in throwing his kick in congruence with the motion of his somersault, Kado might find himself subjected to world-shattering strength smashing into his chin and jawline, resulting in a sound like a thundercrack splitting the heavens in two in the paper-thin atmosphere blanketing the barren moon. Upon confirmed impact, a strike rivaling a full 150 gigatons of TNT would careen into the target area for devastating effect to occur, including a skyward forced ejection from Sparga’s personal space at alarming speeds, breaching the sound thousands of times over as Sparga rapidly leaned into his loss of balance to compose himself when his palms slammed into the soil so that he could throw his weight up skyward and let the heels of his boots swing into a slashing motion to deliver his kick as desired.

If successful, then after the sensory registration of confirmed impact, his hips would twist to then let his momentum carry further so he could vault off of his palms with a bounce of his wrists and elbows to let his feet plant in a firm and rooting posture. Bouncing at the knees to cushion his landing, he spread his feet apart shoulder-width width and raised his hands into reactive placements in order to prepare his defenses more astutely. Honing Mind and Body as One yet again with a more disciplined and focused fighting stance than before, he intended to make any new attempt to penetrate the bulwark of his guard more difficult. Sparga’s tail twitched in anticipation, and he didn’t even notice himself slipping a crooked smile of joy at having to react in such a way, forced to fight like a real martial artist again after so long.

His heart fluttered in bliss at the sensation of a real challenge again after so long without, and he waited patiently to see how and when his rival might respond with his reflexes primed to react at a hair trigger’s provocation, sharpened by his enhanced perception and reaction speed which in turn was of preternatural caliber in thanks to his super brain’s ability to process information and sensory stimuli near instantaneously. His posture rooted and in a tight guard, he exhaled slowly and waited for Kado’s retaliation.​

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Sparga's retaliated at a moment's notice, which caught Kado off guard. The blow landed clean. Sparga’s heels smashed into Kado’s jawline, enough force behind it to rattle mountains and split atmospheres. Dust plumed around them as the strike reverberated through the barren moon. Any other fighter might have been hurled skyward by such an impact, neck whiplashed, body lifted clean from the ground by the Saiyan’s unyielding power. One eye shut, straining to suppress the jagged surge of pain rushing through his head. His boots barely dragged an inch, a fleeting skid that betrayed the force behind the blow, yet his frame refused to yield. Every muscle clenched into iron, his body hardening with a density that seemed to mock the very physics of impact. His brain shunted the pain signals to the background, dulling their edge as adrenaline surged to the forefront, fueling his next move.

His head snapped sideways from the torque, the shockwave rippling through his frame, but he held firm. His knees flexed just enough to absorb the shock before resetting. To the outside eye, it seemed as though he’d simply taken a blow from a titan and refused to move. Inside Kado’s mind, however, the moment stretched into eternity. His accelerated thought processes tore apart every detail of the exchange before the pain even had time to properly register. He felt the splintering pressure across his jaw, the force pushing into his neck, the angle of Sparga’s extended body as he hung exposed in the follow-through of his somersault-kick. In the frozen fragments of his perception, Sparga was an open target.

In the midst of Sparga retracting his legs, Kado’s forearm bent sharply inward across his torso, the motion looking almost casual in the slowed perception of his mind but in truth executed with lethal intent. His fingers stretched outward, much like claws, and in an instant a sphere of energy condensed into the center of his palm, immediately driving into Sparga’s lower abdomen due to their positioning. This would've drastically reduced his opponent’s chances of evading, given the circumstances. It wasn’t a flare of wild ki, but a tightly woven knot of destructive force compressed so viciously that it burned with a glassy brilliance, humming with a restrained quake that shook the air around his hand.

At point-blank range, the orb screamed free from his palm and slammed into Sparga’s exposed abdomen The detonation was an ear-splitting concussive blast that ripped the silence of the lunar wasteland into ribbons. Energy tore outward in a violent shockwave, shredding the soil beneath their feet and hurling fragmented stone into the void of low gravity. The impact wasn’t just a push. It was a hammerblow delivered straight to the core of Sparga’s body, threatening to fold him inward with sheer kinetic violence. The concussive surge sought not only to throw him back, but to tear away the momentum he had just built and turn his own aggression against him. Kado stood unmoving through the blast’s recoil, smoke and dust curling around his planted form. His jaw still ached from the Saiyan’s strike, a scratch already forming across the side of his face, but his expression remained cold, sharpened. The glow of residual energy flickered between his outstretched fingers before dimming, and his chest rose once in a steady breath. He lifted his other arm, brushing the dust and debris from his face as he watched Sparga’s form fly farther and farther from him.

Amidst the chaos, Kado’s battle-honed eyes scanned every movement, his senses razor-sharp. His hand started to glow with a reddish-orange light, faint lines of energy weaving and spiraling around him.
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The normal acuity of his perception had lulled as he went through the motions of his course. The success of his strike meeting its intended target to deliver a driving impact was tangible in his senses, and the euphoric sensation of landing a tangible blow on a worthy opponent after spending so much time defeating lesser enemies that require no effort on his part was palpable. He could feel the elation of finally having a challenge run through his veins, stirring the beast within that he normally kept leashed and chained down from its slumber. There was a deep and prolific warmth within his soul that vitalized him at the thought of an opponent finally presenting themself to him that might make him actually have to work for his victory for a change, and of course, it came from the one man who always provided. Sparga had nothing but respect for Kado because he was the only warrior he knew who could still provide a real challenge to him aside from his own martial arts mentor and teacher. So it would only make sense that in his jubilation of having to actually try for once in a while, he might have holes in his defenses - defenses that had long gone negligent due to lack of need.

Sparga was surprised that Kado had withstood such a powerful strike when in the past, such forces would have caused the warrior to buckle given the gap in physical strength between them. Kado had always been faster, sure, and still was. But Sparga was stronger. And the ability to hold fast against this strike proved that Kado had grown in physical resilience as well as the improvements to his speed. And that thought encouraged Sparga in a way he had seldom had the pleasure of before.

And then Kado saw and seized his opening. The thrust of his hand at point-blank range to smash the sphere of vitriolic and energized fury forward so it might detonate against Sparga’s abdomen struck true, resulting in a furious explosion of forceful and crushing strength that caused the moon’s landscape to crumble under the wake of such intense and intentful power. For several miles across, the lunar wastelands were subjected to a heavy gust that came from the detonation, and the immediate impact zone was charred to cinders from the heat of the release. The concussive weight of the blast induced into the environment a shattering crash within the radius of release and impact before the detonation would then project its kinetic force out into a wider scale that sent long dormant lunar dust and sand into a billowing plume with the shockwave resonating out in all directions.

And Sparga, who was at the center of such a blast, was subsequently introduced to the full force of such an attack at its epicenter before kinetic momentum might disperse further out, ensuring he took the total weight of the strike and its explosion. His momentum torn from him, he went into a wide tumble as he spiralled and rolled through the air, smoke trailing from his body as the charring onto his normally pristine suit left itself as evidence of a successful attack. Gritting his teeth, he caught himself and adjusted his flight by regaining control of his momentum and grasping hold of the controls of his directional velocity. Grounding himself into a more controlled flight, he let the momentum forced onto him continue as he twisted at the hips while shifting the distribution of his weight so he might land on his feet safely.

Even with the full range of successful attacks repeatedly landing against him, the Saiyan of Steel was wearing an expression of… joy? He smiled, lifting his hand up to brush his knuckles against his lower lip, wiping away some of the ash and soot from the blast off of his face. True to his epithet, Sparga stood tall and resolute, showing no discernable damages to his body underneath the impacted zones underneath his suit - Whatever damages he sustained, if any, were not visible. His bio-electric aura, a constant passive thanks to his unique physiology, maintained itself as a dampening zone that any heavy impact would have to filter into and through before actually reaching him to induce any tangible and visible damage to his physique, thus requiring any attack to harm him to be of only the most deific caliber. Nothing less would suffice.

Kado had grown stronger, that much was evident. But would it be enough?

Sparga: “Heh. Thanks. I’ve been needing that. It’s nice to fight someone strong enough to land a hit I can feel for a change. Not like I expected anything less from you, of course. You’re about the only person left who can.”


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There was a subtle shift in Sparga’s posture, a weight that wasn’t there before. And suddenly, in an instant, it was like he was a different person. There wasn’t any dramatic spike in power output, no surge in energy. Just a shifting of footing and a straightening of the spine and the way he carried himself. Sparga’s chest looked bigger, and his shoulders broader, like he had stopped trying to make himself look smaller and shrink into himself. His senses were honed properly now throughout the course of this exchange, and he was warmed up to his liking. And just like not too long ago against a certain pride trooper, there was this thought in his mind that maybe he could finally stop pulling his punches.

Mind and Body as One in a cohesive and efficient unit, he grinned in the faintest glimmer of joy, keeping his effort to discipline himself and withhold his joy, but the emotion was slipping through the cracks as he was finding himself overwhelmed with the primal, instinctive urge all members of his species felt. His senses now properly alert and aware after being roused from dormancy, he feeling at least a little more like himself. And then he moved.

In the past, Sparga had always been slower, partially due to personal limitations and inhibitions. Sparga never moved faster than light speed before while on Earth, and that was due to the fear of how much drag force his momentum might induce onto the planet and his immediate surroundings. Here on the moon, where there was no worry for collateral damage, that fear was nonexistent. And when Sparga charged, light itself was unable to keep pace with him before he might force his way into his opponent’s space to pierce through the faint glow of aura flickering off of his target and swing his fist upward in a skyward uppercut faster than even his forward dash. Moving across the distance now formed between them in a quarter of a picosecond’s time, Sparga’s left fist would then thrust itself upward like a rocket in a following quarter of a picosecond’s frame. As he charged, his right hand was poised and primed to react as needed in case the opponent proved capable of reacting to this sudden burst of energy and velocity. Sharp senses maintained themselves into total optimization as he moved to simultaneously breach the opponent’s personal space and then deliver his strike in a half-picosecond time frame.

Upon impact landing true, Kado would find his sternum stricken with strength that defied reason - a single punch weighing in at well over 50 petatons. For comparison, Sparga’s previous kick that landed true was clocked in at 150 gigatons of TNT force. This uppercut, driven by full intent and a greater level of confidence that Kado was not just faster than Sparga but finally at a level of meeting him blow for blow in a real and genuine exchange of physicality after all these years. To further explain the comparison, 150 gigatons is more than enough force to pulverize an island into rubble. And 50 petatons is the equivalent to 50,000,000 (50 million) gigatons. And such forces wouldn’t just be capable of turning a small island into powder, but an entire continent.

To an outside observer with less astute senses, the display might play out as if Sparga was standing still and then Kado might be hit with a shockwave that spawned from nothing before the landscape between them was ripped apart and shattered by some astronomical wave of drag force and kinetic momentum pulling it toward Kado before the lag of light would catch up and reveal Sparga having moved so fast that the reflections of light bouncing off of his body would fail to keep up until after his entire course of action might play out. The sheer enormity of Sparga’s speed was so great that his very momentum induced such powerful dragging winds that the moon shuddered in its entirety before the impact of his uppercut (regardless if it landed onto Kado or not) was of such an enormous force that the kinetic discharge of strength and momentum would cause tectonic plates to shift and the landscape would adjust as the force behind Sparga’s punch kicked up such a gargantuan seismic tremor that whether or not it hit Kado, the ground would rumble behind them and a large plateau fifty miles wide would rise up from the moon’s surface, creating a wall behind them. And this was nothing to say if Sparga’s knuckles met their mark.

Upon a successful strike, Kado would be subjected to weight and forces that could send even the largest planets trembling directly smashing against his sternum. But even as he made his forward charge, Sparga kept his wits about him as he maintained a reflexive awareness in case he might need to alter or adjust his movements at the most abrupt notice, sharp senses and super brain working in tandem to ensure no action that occurred might escape his notice without difficulty as his perception of the world slowed down so that even at such disarming speeds, he might perceive everything in slow motion. Mind and Body as One, he proceeded with full intent to drive home his strength and measure just how much of it Kado can withstand, and determine how much more of the lion’s share of his might he can finally let loose.

If Kado found himself under the weight of such a thunderous punch, then he’d be sent smashing into the newly formed cliff above them, and his body would hammer and pulverize the rock if he smashed into it, before being sent through it at an upward angle.
And Sparga would hold his ground, fist clenched with every fiber and muscle in his body primed and eager to indulge in their mutual combat. Senses high and alert from the joy of being able to truly stretch his legs as a warrior, his reactionary state throughout the course of enacting and then even after completing his desired action would be vibrating with efficiency. Mind and Body as One, the Saiyan Kryptonian hybrid readied himself for whatever Kado might have in store for him.

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As previously stated, his hand flared with a reddish-orange glow, lines of energy crawled across his frame. His form wavered, losing its definition, as though peeling away from reality itself—shifting seamlessly from one point to the next without ever traversing the space in between. He traveled behind the Saiyan of Steel under instantaneous movement, otherwise known as Instant Transmission. (瞬しゅん間かん移い動どう Shunkan Idō, lit. "Instantaneous Movement") By then, Sparga would have broken through the cloud of the explosion, struggling to steady himself against the wild momentum tearing at his body. But before control could fully return, the Hunter slipped in behind him—already wielding another condensed sphere of energy, unleashing at point-blank range yet again. The sphere detonated with a violent surge , erupting into a condensed shockwave that spread outward in a focused burst rather than a wide explosion. The compressed energy unraveled in layers, its force channeled directly into his frame instead of dispersing into the open air.

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The immediate effect would be a concussive blast that drove deep into Sparga’s muscles and spine, jarring his nervous system with a sharp wave of pain while simultaneously robbing him of breath. The energy didn’t merely push—it compressed, creating an inward pressure before expanding outward, leaving his balance in disarray. His body was hurled forward under the momentum of the strike, his velocity magnified by the blast as if a second, unnatural propulsion had been applied behind him.

Debris and dust scattered in a ripple pattern from the impact site, the sound echoing more like a thunderclap than an explosion. If Sparga failed to reinforce his body in time, the energy’s penetrative force would cause lingering numbness along his back and shoulders, impairing his ability to rotate or stabilize his upper torso. Even if durability lessened the damage, the sheer kinetic recoil ensured that his trajectory was forcibly altered, making evasion or counterattack significantly harder in the immediate aftermath.

Kado, meanwhile, eased his arm back down to his side, his hand settling near his waist as his gaze followed the Saiyan of Steel being hurled away, his expression unmoved and unreadable. While simultaneously, generating and amplifying his energy to replenish the energy that was lost. His mind and body synchronized as one, sharpening his awareness and heightening every sense.

Kado: "You've gotten sloppy."
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The crucible that the barren wasteland was one of pure frenetic energy, of undeniable chaos, and a storm of action. The moon’s previously held tranquility was now shattered under the weight of such intense fury as the forge that determined true strength was ablaze with more life than the cold rock had ever seen in its life. There was one absolute truth in existence, and that is that strength is the deciding factor to achieve one’s goals, be it strength of arms or strength of will. And try as he might to try and deny that fact with rational judgment and reasoning, the Saiyan Kryptonian hybrid knew in his bones that this was reality. And so it was that as he was undergoing efforts to stabilize his proprioception and regain control of his momentum, instincts ingrained deeper into his being that had been drilled into him through a lifetime of training and honing his body into a martial weapon of supreme and unrivaled prowess kicked in.

A weapon forged might dull with use as its edge is repeatedly put through strain, but the weapon never loses its quality. And assuming it might is always a surefire way to find steel at one’s throat. Sparga had spent a lifetime in crucibles such as this one, forged in the heat of battle and pushing himself past his limits to attain a pedigree of skill and prowess that was not easily rivaled. And though he had found himself wanting for a real challenge in recent years, he was still the same man. And those instincts he maintained a constant effort to suppress were rousing from dormancy to remind him of what he was, and is. Some actions were performed through conscious thought, others were done without such arduous extensions. Sometimes, one’s body acts without thinking after undergoing repetition of such actions for so long that they find themselves performing them before one even realizes they have moved.

When Kado’s body projected itself into Sparga’s path through instantaneous movement via the Instant Transmission technique in order to present himself as another offensive obstacle, instincts kicked in before Sparga even managed to fully regain control of his momentum, and the slumbering beast which was always holding back acted, even if not yet fully awoken. As Kado’s hand extended itself to discharge yet another release of power in order to fire of a furious blast of heated force formed from his own inner vitality, several factors went into play.

The first is that while Kado’s movement to align his placement along the Saiyan of Steel’s trajectory would be acknowledged and confirmed as “instant”, there was an ambiguous lapse of specified time in which the discharge of his gathered energy might release into concussive and explosive force. While it is confirmed that Kado would indeed transmit behind Sparga and into his path, the lack of clear time frame in which is determined from initial spark to full expanse of explosive release. It is also unclear just how much space is left between Sparga and Kado upon confirmation of his Instant Transmission - only that he materializes behind him. The exact measurements of space between the two combatants thus left unclear, this would further emphasize the importance of time frame between Sparga’s uncontrolled flight sending him into trajectory to come within range of Kado’s point blank discharge. As Sparga was sent flying by the previous attack, this supports the notion that he is travelling at high speeds across a long distance. So where in relation to Sparga’s flight path Kado materializes with his Instant Transmission and how much of a gap between the two is crucial in determining when exactly his blast would discharge into full completion.

As his body careened through the air, warrior’s instincts drilled into him through a lifetime of repetition and training flared up into activation. Though his flight path was uncontrolled and his spatial awareness was disrupted, there was a sudden intuition that triggered faster than conscious thought and perception could follow. An impending sense of danger and warning that transcended conscious thought. Before he was even aware of where Kado was, the Superman’s instincts were screaming in his soul before he was even aware of their shout, triggering his body to jolt into action without him even being aware of his own movements. Thus, unbidden by conscious action and effort guided by the mind, the body would move without restraint. Before he could even fully make sense of where his opponent was, his body and instincts commanded him to avoid danger, even without fully knowing where it was. And as stated previously, the lack of a clearly defined distance between the two combatants as Sparga careened through the air toward Kado was a deciding factor. This would allow Sparga, whose body moved without conscious effort as his senses flared into ignition, to move within an attosecond’s frame of time as he flew with the sporadic roll of his flight to begin a dash that made him blitz with a sudden burst of speed as combat-drilled intuition took over to send him hurling in a velocity that accelerated far beyond what even light could contend with. To fully understand how short a time frame a single attosecond is, an easy comparison would be to imagine if time was slowed to a crawl so much so to the point that watching a beam of light move brings its speed to slower than that of even a snail. This means that while Kado might successfully utilize his Instant Transmission to arrive behind Sparga, Sparga’s body would ignite into momentum before the full release and discharge of Kado’s stored energy emitting from his palm could expand into complete and total expansion.

((Wild Sense Cooldown Initiated))

Before his velocity might bring him within range for his opponent to strike with explosive detonation, Sparga’s body rolled with the spiralling tumble of his uncontrolled flight to turn that lack of control to his advantage. Muscles kicked in to throw himself before the awakened mind could follow, only sensing danger on a primal level that preceded guided thought and perception based on active awareness of one’s surroundings. As he tumbled and spun, at the height of a cycle of rotation where his body was upside down mid-flight, a thrust of speed hurled Sparga back down to the ground where he unconsciously rolled to land on his feet to smash into the moon’s surface within that attosecond’s time frame before he might come within the radius to trigger explosive ordinance.

The second detail to consider is the lack of discernible detail implicating clear and established defensive parameters while Kado is releasing his attack, only stating that his Mind and Body synchronize as One to sharpen his awareness and heighten his senses at the end, implying this does not occur until afterward and upon completion of his course of attack. This implies that while attacking, his guard is down and open. So when his senses flared up to trigger a wild and instinctive movement so that he might move with supreme haste, the Saiyan Kryptonian hybrid moved to throw himself down back to the ground to safely land on his feet with a crashing shockwave underneath Kado just before his energy might release and before perception could lend itself to following him.

In the event of successful evasion attributed to his Wild Sense flare-up, Sparga’s mind would rapidly compose itself to regain a sense of awareness of his surroundings. His mind dizzy with the sudden initiation of instinctive movement that overrode conscious thought, he rapidly sought to collect himself, and as his mind was still reeling, perception naturally first came back into order. His super brain and its ability to perceive sensory stimuli within his surroundings temporarily heightened by primal instinct and drilled training, he could feel the air stir above him, and he threw himself skyward.

Once again jetting through the air at deific speeds to project himself toward his destination within a single attosecond’s frame, Sparga’s fist would thrust upward to drive his knuckles in a clear arc toward Kado’s jaw to drive the full 50 petatons of force onto his target with speed equalling his wild sense evasive dash. This attack triggering in conjunction with the use of his Wild Sense, Sparga’s body moved with utmost urgency to form a single fluid motion with the rise and spiking thrust of his sharpened knuckles tailgating the end of his movement. Upon successful impact, which bore a high ratio for success given the failure to determine speeds of attack discharge and ensure defensive measures were maintained in unison while striking, then Kado would bear the full weight of such a strike and all its cataclysmic titancy and astronomic strength.

Should impact confirm, the kinetic distribution would reverberate to induce a heavy-handed blow to the jawbone and kinetic distribution off force would cause that impact to echo into the base of the skull and rattle the brain to induce temporary shellshock as the blow might force Kado’s head straight up and back before the echoes of force would vibrate through Kado’s entire body in ways that would trigger confusion, blurred sight, and ringing in the ears due to the head jerking back so violently which would in turn cause the brain to shake and jostle against the skull’s inner casing, smashing itself against its own protective shell. And if stricken successfully, Kado would find himself rapidly careening skyward and near the edges of the moon’s orbital perimeter just shy of breaching the safe zone where one crosses the threshold of gravitational pull and into empty space between the Moon and Earth.

In the event of his Wild Sense flare-up and counterattack occurring successfully, Sparga would huff and focus himself into full clarity. How long had it been since he had to rely on instinctive movement and not disciplined, measured action? Part of him wanted to be offended, insulted with himself for getting so sloppy. But how many fighters in the past few years even warranted him releasing control like that and simply following the flow? Now that he was able to compose himself (assuming success in his attack landing), he would use this opportunity to reestablish his guard and take his stance. Mind and Body syncing back together as One cohesive unit, he exhaled quickly to empty the stale air out of his lungs. Now properly focused and alert, he would give Kado the fight he deserved. His guard now raised efficiently and his senses sharp, the Saiyan of Steel was in proper form compared to earlier. His posture was more bold and confident, his eyes clearer and his grin more sure.

All that remained was for him to hold his guard with his senses primed and his reflexes engaged while waiting to see how his opponent might respond, if they proved capable of doing so after so staggering a blow.

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The instant Sparga’s instincts ignited, Kado felt the shift ripple through the air like a tremor. Years of meditation and battle-forged discipline had honed his senses beyond reflex—his awareness sharpened enough to catch even the unnatural rhythm of a movement. It was sudden, primal, and violent. The hybrid’s body erupted upward like a comet, his knuckles tearing through the void with the weight of a collapsing star—far too fast for flesh and bone to answer. Kado’s body could not react. But his mind did. Residual static from his last detonated sphere dissipated into energy that returned into his being, but already his consciousness surged ahead, bleeding into every fiber of his being. His thoughts fractured into lightning, racing faster than muscle could obey, and in that higher state the Hunter’s mind became his shield. Perception of the strike bloomed before its impact landed, allowing his will to surge outward. The battlefield itself seemed to lurch—dust suspended mid-air, debris tugged by unseen currents—as Kado’s psychic force stretched to intercept the blow.

The ground quaked when Sparga descended, moonrock shrieking under his crashing force, but the blow never landed clean. Kado’s telekinesis seized momentum itself, halting the full weight of the strike in the breath before impact. Then, with a twist of intent, he reversed it—compressing the stolen velocity into a sudden, concussive burst. Pressure detonated outward in a sphere between them, invisible yet devastating, like the air itself had been turned into a crushing fist. The eruption tore a crater beneath their feet, hurling dust and shattered stone in spiraling arcs. For Sparga, the effect was twofold: the violent recoil robbed his fist of its arc while the telekinetic backlash pressed into his chest and spine, threatening to stagger his balance and send his body reeling in the opposite direction. Kado, meanwhile, stood with his frame anchored against the shock, his gaze sharp, his hand lowering slowly as though he had simply willed the explosion into existence.

“Not bad…” he muttered under his breath, the words barely audible yet carried with an intensity that resonated deeper than volume ever could. His gaze tracked upward, toward where the concussive explosion took him. There was no fear in Kado’s eyes, only the steady burn of anticipation. The thrill of combat—of being pushed beyond calculation and into instinct.

In that moment, Kado did not retreat nor rush recklessly forward. Instead, he stood his ground, letting the aftershocks fade while gathering his willpower into a coiled spring. His telekinesis gripped the battlefield itself, subtle vibrations humming through the broken terrain as he prepared for the next exchange. Sparga had slipped his counter once—but Kado was already strategizing a dozen new ways to bend momentum, perception, and force in his favor. With his senses heightened, harmonizing his mind and soul together.
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((Wild Sense Cooldown = 3 Posts))
When his momentum was robbed and redirected, Sparga’s resilience endured. Whatever trick Kado employed to turn his own force against him and prevent his blow from landing clean was a surprise, but not one that disarmed Sparga now that he was on the offensive. His focus clarified as he swung with intention, he maintained discipline in his desire. He didn’t know exactly how the opponent was able to rob him of his momentum only mere moments before impact might confirm, but he didn’t care. And when the reversal came to compress the velocity of his charge into a single static point that would then erupt into a discharge of concussive kinetic reverb, the backlash struck onto Sparga with full effect. The ground shuddered beneath him and cratered into an even larger canyon as the moon’s surface was carved and reshaped by the course of their clash. But interestingly, the full force of telekinetic impact seemed to hardly slow the Saiyan of Steel down, once again reinforcing the validity of his epithet. As the Saiyan of Steel, Sparga boasted a magnitude of endurance that would beggar belief were it not so common for him to endure even the most staggering of planetary catastrophes. Kado’s redistribution of kinetic momentum was impressive, but to a Superman, it wouldn’t aid him in gaining any further ground than he already had in this bout.

To clarify, one must consider the magnitude of forces exerted by both parties in this exchange. Considering the velocity of his charge would amplify the magnitude of force that Sparga’s punch might inflict, which was attributed to a confirmed 50 petatons of force - a level that is accepted as being capable of shattering entire continents. Were this level of force directed elsewhere, this wouldn’t just be capable of pulverizing the moon, but cleaving it clean in two. Enhancing this with a level of speed that surpassed that of even light would cause a surge of relativistic physics to take over, amplifying the weight of his fist as he exceeded the threshold for what can be bound and quantified through multipliers. Sparga’s skyward rise triggering to completion in the course of a single attosecond and his fist following it in a subsequent attosecond bore speeds that caused his mass to accelerate in volume, shifting into greater intensity as his fist alone began to surge with such strength from the momentum alone that enhanced the weight of his blow. If we assume Sparga’s velocity doubles the force imparted by his punch via momentum, then that punch then becomes 100 petatons in exertion of explosive impact. ``

And even with Kado’s success to halt Sparga’s momentum and strike via psychic prowess, there was no defined or clear mention of any further enhancement to the attack to amplify its magnitude when returned to its point of origin. Only that he robbed it and then redirected it, reinforcing that we cannot assume it enhances the quantity of force. And while it was prevalent in its destructive capabilities, even if we assume 100 petatons of force being redirected back onto Sparga, the reality is that even this much is not sufficient to destroy a planet - or an entity capable of withstanding one’s destruction.

The bare minimum theoretical level of destructive force required to exceed Earth’s gravitational binding energy that would cause total planetary vaporization is 30 exatons, or 30,000 petatons. Meaning that even with his own force being used against him, this attack might barely register as even less than 0.5% of the necessary magnitude of power to disassemble a planetoid-sized celestial body fully. And a Superman is far more powerful than a planet. So when Kado redirected the force of his strike against him, Sparga found himself hurling back again at an alarming velocity even double that of his previous speed. But his senses were honed now and the impact of even his own force that might be crushing to another might barely even count as a tickle to himself. Kado might assume to be faster, but Sparga was above and beyond any in strength and resilience. Even prior to this battle, Sparga had proven his prowess and power to be a caliber that made even black holes something he fails to recognize as a threat.

Still sharp of wit and alert from the high of his senses triggering instinctively to enhance his attention into the highest caliber, Sparga whipped himself into action and even with such forceful momentum thrust against his physique, he rotated and flew into aggressive action. Before his flight path might complete in its course, he pivoted and took control of his momentum through keen mastery of proprioception and used the acceleration forced unto him by Kado’s own actions and efforts to bring him back to charge.

Kado: “Not ba–”

Before Kado might be able to finish his compliment, the speed at which Sparga redirected the momentum forced upon him and took control of to weaponize it to his advantage would have brought the warrior in question back within Kado’s personal space faster than before. Kado had given Sparga the momentum, and his resilience allowed him to turn it into his own tool so that he might send another world-cracking punch toward his opponent’s solar plexus and abdomen with frightful force. With how Kado had successfully redirected Sparga’s energy and momentum against him, the speed at which he might be knocked back with would be amplified by his own force. And as stated, even such incredible power is still not in the threshold to be of concern for the Superman. With that in mind, it would stand to reason that he might prove capable of capitalizing on this gift to his speed granted to him by his opponent through pushing his way through the impact and maintaining that focus honed while he moved to attack. Bearing this in mind, Sparga would return to Kado’s reach within even less of an attosecond, half at most if we assume generous low estimates. And this would bring Sparga’s fist to soar furiously forward to drive into his target’s ribs, stomach, and abdomen to push his knuckles with clear intent - Strike.

He didn’t want to seriously maim or wound his rival, just inflict damage so he pulled the punch at the last possible moment to minimize impact inflicted. But even at such speeds, the magnification of momentum that would increase kinetic energy accumulated to distribute said kinetic chaining reactions would result in nearly tipping into the threshold of force required to atomize a large continent. Kado might be fast, but Sparga was not keen to find out how much or how little of his supreme strength the warrior could withstand before liquefaction. So even with conscious effort to pull his punch and minimize force imparted, the blow would clock in at 850 petatons.

Regardless of successful impact against the intended region, the shockwave that would explode out shot like a bullet through or past Kado (depending on where the point of origin releases the kinetic distribution of force) with such gargantuan weightloads of power that the soaring fist bullet would jet past the moon’s outer reaches and travel through the void of space to tear through the Earth’s atmosphere and spear through harmlessly over the planet’s skies, but still carving a clear and visible skidmark in the Earth’s upper atmosphere. In the event of successful impact, Kado would find his solar plexus being crushed by a strike more than capable of folding the moon they stood on in on itself and pulverizing it into fragmented debris a dozen times over. Such an occurrence would create several natural reactions - the first of which would be the violent expulsion of air rushing out of the recipient’s lungs with such intensity that the sensation might be akin to vomiting. The other would be the knock back that occurs in the same instance of the first effect, sending Kado reeling to stagger at speeds which would dwarf escape velocity if impact were sustained.

The sheer magnitude of force that Kado might sustain if this attack hit was clearly a pulled punch, that much would be obvious, but even then it would still be enough to shake the Earth if this blow were thrown on the planet’s surface, creating such explosive ripples of concussive force that entire cities would be flattened from the overwhelming enormity of such monstrous, unholy strength of the shockwave alone. The friction generated would cause a surge of static electricity, sparking briefly as Sparga’s fist soared at such upsetting velocities as to cause even the voidless atmosphere of the moon spark with vibrational excitement attributed to the colossal magnitude of speed with which Sparga’s fist moved at. This sparking blur would shroud Sparga’s fist, making the exact positioning of his fist’s location during the course of its arc more difficult to discern through the blur of motion causing a refraction of light as the visual image of his arm distorted, compressed, and contracted all at once under such colossal and absurd speeds, which Sparga now had Kado to thank for.

The rate of this effort bearing fruit would prove higher than average given the speed at which Sparga’s attack would come, his velocity enhanced by Kado’s own input to enhance his momentum through efforts of sending his own force back at him, effectively kickstarting him into higher gear as information has already determined that even the previous force imparted were of an insufficient degree to inflict genuine harm against the Saiyan of Steel. This would allow Sparga’s velocity to thus magnify, which would enable a greater chance of success via the increased difficulty of perceiving his movements given that he was now travelling at speeds to arrive at his destination and strike even before an attosecond’s completion. Given the increased velocity, the streaking blur of Sparga’s momentum would benefit from an improved blur to his presence, as the ability to track and perceive a target moving at such increased speeds would subsequently increase.

During the course of action, Sparga kept his wits sharp and his reflexes engaged, even amidst the difficulty of moving faster than he ever has before, forcibly pushed past his speed limits and into an acceleration that would test the heights of his ability to react in the event of a sudden intrusion in his directive. It might be difficult, but he wasn’t about to not try - The idea was stirring, a flicker of an idea that ran through his veins to continue rousing the slumbering warrior who thrived on the thrill of adrenaline pushing him past his limits. If he could break those limits, that would be the opportunity for him to test if he could or not. In the event of successful impact, Sparga would briefly hold his position to take stock of what might come next. Mind and Body as One, he prepared while keeping his body not tense but ready, his spirit and his mind clear and attentive.

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In that moment, Sparga's body erupted forward, Kado's mind accelerated thinking processed this, his sharpened perception snapped into clarity. He didn’t just see the strike coming—he dissected it, frame by frame, with the ruthless precision of a mind conditioned to fight at speeds beyond human measure. His body surged forward on instinct, sharpened by years of relentless speed conditioning. Spine coiling and shoulder twisting just outside the comet-like arc of Sparga’s fist. The blow missed its mark, but it did not pass harmlessly. The air detonated in its wake, the shockwave slamming against Kado’s chest like a battering ram, stinging his skin raw and forcing the breath from his lungs. His boots skidded across fractured moonrock, cracks spider-webbing beneath him. He tasted copper on his tongue—proof of the Saiyan of Steel's monstrous power.

But it was exactly in that fraction of a second of overextension that the fight turned.

Sparga’s knuckles drove downward, burying themselves into the lunar surface with enough force to create a crater, anchoring his body for a heartbeat. That commitment, that one instant where momentum chained him to his own strike, was all Kado required. His telekinesis surged once again, but not as a single shove, but as invisible threads hooking into Sparga’s balance. He didn’t push against raw strength. He redirected the force. The physics were brutal and simple: Sparga’s momentum had nowhere to go but sideways, and Kado wrenched it that way with a twist of will. The Saiyan of Steel's spine was forced into a violent, unnatural torque, equilibrium jarred in an instant. Kado moved in the same motion. His torso snapped like a whip, muscles firing in ruthless synchronization, and his elbow rocketed downward like a piledriver into Sparga’s exposed jawline. The impact cracked through the silence of space, bone against bone, amplified by telekinetic compression that focused the blow into a single devastating point.

There were things one needed to take into account: The redirection of momentum meant Sparga’s own force rebounded into his frame, doubling the effect like a judo throw powered by telekinesis. The sudden torque disrupted his inner ear equilibrium, a microscopic but crucial attack on his sense of balance, forcing his body to stutter. The elbow itself carried not only flesh-and-bone strength, but the amplified weight of Kado’s telekinesis pressing downward like gravity condensed into a fist. The maneuver was unleashed with such precision that it didn’t just match the force of countless petatons—it tore into exaton levels, the raw energy sufficient to rend planets from core to crust, leaving devastation in its wake. Kado’s body stayed fluid, almost unnervingly loose, until the instant of contact—then every fiber snapped into lethal precision, channeling raw force with merciless intent, turning the moment into a strike that could shatter bone and stagger titans alike.

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The result was far from pretty. Sparga’s skull would've rattled under the blow, shock rippling through his chest and down his spine, every nerve lit by the violent whiplash. His durability saved him from collapse, but there was no ignoring it—the staggering effect, the violent jolt that ripped him out of perfect flow. His tank-like resilience met the brutality of physics itself, and physics didn’t care how strong he was. Instead of waiting, he proceeded on. Had Sparga's balance faltered, his mind surged outward, telekinetic filaments digging deeper into the hybrid’s mass. Not flesh. Not muscle. Momentum itself. The same force that had carried Sparga’s comet-like strike now became his prison. The air between them imploded as Kado yanked those threads tight. In a heartbeat, Sparga’s limbs jerked against invisible constraints, as if gravity itself had turned vindictive and multiplied a hundredfold around his frame. Lunar dust rose in a storm, sucked toward the crushing pressure, coating Sparga’s form in a storm of grit that wasn't visible.

Then Kado twisted his hand.

The torque didn’t just hold—it crushed inward, compressing every ounce of kinetic energy Sparga’s body generated into his own chest cavity. It was science weaponized: kinetic energy conservation turned vicious, momentum folded back against its origin point. Muscles that sought to expand were forced to contract. Bones endured stresses from unnatural vectors. His body became a closed system of pressure, every twitch punished with an equal, amplified counterforce. And into that prison, Kado drove his follow-up. His palm opened, and a sphere of condensed psychic pressure—pure, compressed will—detonated point-blank into Sparga’s sternum. It wasn’t fire, wasn’t ki, but raw force collapsed into a pulse, the kind of blunt trauma that could rattle organs even inside a tank. The airless vacuum carried no sound, yet the vibration screamed through the battlefield, a shockwave tearing a trench through the moonrock beneath them. Kado’s eyes never wavered. His body was a storm’s eye, calm while telekinetic winds howled around him, merciless in their grip. If Sparga were vulnerable to the telekinetic onslaught, his frame would have shattered under the strain.
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((Wild Sense Cooldown = 2 Posts))

Few instances in memory throughout space and time could recount the ferocity of such unrelenting forces colliding into a struggle for dominance in this clash of wills between titans that would prove once and for all the truth; That through genuine struggle and effort and hardship endured, one can find enlightenment - one could find what truth lies beyond this truth. That strength forged through determination and without compromise could one verify their existence and their beliefs as the greater value. The world is forged by the hands of those who possess the strength to make their ideals a reality, be it for good or ill. And few individuals possessed strength of this caliber.

Kado’s supreme perception took note of some values that would prove to be true, this is certain and ineligible for debate. But several key factors would need to be considered to prove his perception over the majority in order to proceed in determining the victor in this exchange. Even despite the evasion of his efforts, the shockwave rippling around Sparga’s arcing fist thrusting to deliver its fury would ring out to clash against Kado’s body. But the miscalculation had been made already. While Sparga’s flight path brought him back down toward Kado in a downward arc, the shockwave that erupted from the Saiyan of Steel’s fist was described as shooting like a bullet that extends outward to race toward the Earth’s atmosphere, and not directly into the moon.

This misunderstanding made by the opponent would prove critical in determining what came next. If Sparga’s punch came at such a steep downward angle as to bury his knuckles into the moon’s surface, then the shockwave projectile would naturally travel into the celestial body - and not into the void of space to shoot toward a nearby planet’s atmosphere as it has. This distinction is pivotal in understanding how overextended or otherwise the Saiyan Kryptonian hybrid actually is. Additionally, the opponent lacked clarification on which direction he employed his evasive maneuver - failing to specify if he crossed to the outside of the extended fist toward Sparga’s overextended flank or to the opposite direction where his other arm had yet to be employed. Nor had he made any effort to maintain a defensive parameter while evading or at any point during later actions to retaliate.

With this in mind, one cannot safely assume that Kado did not evade into Sparga’s reach where he twisted at the hip to turn his shoulders and blade his body into a horizontal alignment with the Saiyan of Steel’s extended arm. Meanwhile, Sparga had been diligent and though he had overextended to push himself to greater limits, he had still made the effort to maintain awareness and reactivity. His reflexes flared when Kado evaded the extending arm only to be met with the force of the shockwave, and Sparga’s opposite arm swiped out in a wide arc at blurring speeds to catch his opponent while they themselves appeared off balance in the motion of dodging and moving across the horizon of Sparga’s chest. Aiming to capitalize on the narrow window, this hail mary strike was thrown haphazardly and recklessly while he was overextended. Kado was fast, but he was sloppy and careless in this instance, overconfident in his superior speed. And this would raise the rate of success for Sparga to tag him with this thundering blow. It lacked the precision or dedication as the previous one, but a punch from Superman was still a punch from Superman and upon a successful impact, would clock in at 400 petatons - power great enough to lift an entire landmass as large as North America and drag it through the seas intact without fragmentation.

The speed at which this attack would unleash itself into a full arc was once again in a full attosecond’s frame, returned to Sparga’s traditional speed rate before Kado had given him the boost prior. And given that Kado would realistically in this frame of time be preoccupied mid dodge and weathering the shockwave of the previous attack before initiating his psychic retaliation, the chance of success would increase further when further considering the lack of clarified guard. An attosecond’s time frame would be more than enough to land a clean blow before Kado could begin his retaliation with such a wide opening given to him.

The whipping motion of his arm would fully disrupt his balance proper now and he’d feel his shoulder carry him off to the side and off his feet, but he was fast enough to recover in the necessary amount of time he felt would be needed when the need will inevitably arise. As for Kado, the lack of a clarified defense before beginning a renewed assault with his mental and telekinetic prowess or even during the course of said action would prove to be fatal when Sparga’s previously unutilized fist swiped out to backhand with clenched knuckles in order to deliver a less heavy but still world-shaking assault. Upon confirmed impact, Kado’s jaw would rattle and echo with pain as the reverberations of blunt force trauma might shake his skull and send him into a state of disorientation and disrupted equilibrium due to such heavy blunt force trauma to the brain, jaw, and skull. Kado’s body would be sent reeling backward at extreme velocities to send him tumbling and crashing through moon rock, which would inflict more increments of bludgeoning damage and grind him through stone to shred his pristine outfit against the jagged geodes.

Meanwhile, Sparga would find his hips twisted one direction and his torso the other, leaving him to stumble and roll into a crouch, hopefully before Kado might recover, panting softly and catching his breath. His lungs ached, and his fists burned from both the friction and the impacts as well as the excitement bubbling within his soul.

One knee in the ground and his balance still yet to be recovered, he paused to allow his opponent the same luxury (assuming a successful strike) before standing upright, waiting for Kado’s confirmation so they could both retake their stances and reset.

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The shockwave was real—Kado felt it, but not the way Sparga might’ve hoped. His sharpened perception had caught the comet-arc of that fist before it truly broke the soundless void. He twisted, spine coiling, chest blading sideways just enough that the worst of the detonation screamed past him. The force licked his ribs like white fire, hurling dust and shrapnel across his form, but it wasn’t the rib-cracking blow Sparga might’ve wanted. Instead of collapse, his body skimmed with friction—like an aircraft brushing a jetstream instead of taking the missile head-on. Boots carved shallow furrows in the lunar regolith, cracks splintering beneath him, but his lungs still held, his frame still upright. A sting, nothing more.

And in that fraction of survival, Kado saw the opening.

Sparga’s fist had not merely struck air—it buried itself into the lunar crust, momentum chaining him to his own strength. Even gods obey physics. The downward drive of his comet punch left his spine hinged forward, his balance compromised by his own anchor point. The shockwave he unleashed extended outward into void—a miscalculation—and the price of that error was leverage. Kado’s telekinesis didn’t need to overpower raw muscle. It only needed to redirect vectors already in play. Invisible threads lashed out, not grabbing flesh but hooking momentum itself—a physics snare woven around Sparga’s own torque. With a flick of thought, that same downward drive was twisted sideways, wrenched against Sparga’s locked elbow and shoulder joint. The force of a comet-strike turned into an ugly contortion, torque shredding equilibrium as his hips and torso betrayed him.

Kado moved at the same rapid movement, body loose until the strike, then snapping into perfect precision. He blurred into Sparga’s flank, elbow tucked and jaw set, before his muscles detonated in unison. His knee rocketed upward like a jackhammer, driven not just by his frame but by telekinetic compression collapsing gravity into the strike. The blow targeted the exposed seam beneath Sparga’s ribs—the solar plexus, where even titans choke on air when the diaphragm spasms. Momentum redirected sideways meant Sparga’s defenses couldn’t fully align. His lungs had been mid-exhale from exertion; the upward force met a body out of sync with breath. A diaphragm spasm here wasn’t just pain—it was suffocation, a physiological shutdown. Airless vacuum meant no room to gasp, only silent agony.

The impact cracked the moonrock beneath their feet, dust geysering into a halo as the force rippled through Sparga’s core. Telekinetic aftershocks compacted the blow inward, making his own mass work against him—a body designed to expand with force suddenly punished for it. Kado’s eyes burned cold, merciless. He did not retreat. He drove forward, shoulder crashing in to keep pressure applied, hammering that moment of imbalance before Sparga could reclaim it. His strike wasn’t just an attack. It was a verdict: overextension had consequences, and even gods could choke.
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((Wild Sense Cooldown = 1 Post))

A grave error was made - or rather a misinterpretation and an underestimation that would cost the warrior dearly. Kado’s prowess was admirable and sure, certain in his skills as the sky was blue. But his miscalculation in this exchange would cost him dearly. Kado’s successful evasion of the first punch rang true to enable a valid evasion of the meteoric fist which had zoomed forward to charge and land a crushing, decisive blow that thus far had been successfully evaded. But Kado failed to recognize the second fist as it came forward. Once again, the assumption that Sparga’s fist buried itself into the lunar surface ignores the repercussion of his fist producing both a shockwave around the immediate environment as well as a projectiled burst of kinetic force that travelled toward Earth. This failure to acknowledge this detail and insistence that Sparga’s fist buried itself into the moon’s surface ignores basic understandings of aim and alignment. To reiterate, how can a projectile shoot from the moon’s surface to Earth if its point of origin is embedded within the lunar rock? This fallacy will be taken into consideration when determining which fighter proves successful and emerges victorious in the clash.

As Kado was so preoccupied with the shockwave from the first punch itself, focused on his evasion and intent to produce a telekinetic counter attack to collapse gravity itself unto the Saiyan of Steel, the failure to recognize the full course of actions partaken by Sparga would prove to be of critical importance. Once again, to reiterate, Kado had thus far made no discernable efforts to enable a raised guard to protect himself throughout the course of his endeavor while performing his desired action - thus reinforcing the likelihood of success for Sparga who had made sure to keep his own reflexes and defensive parameters established even while struggling in his current endeavor as he pushed past the limits of his potential speed through the aid of Kado’s own input to his momentum.

The concept that Gods obey physics is a contradiction when they are often the ones who define them, and are capable of breaking them at their whim. Additionally, if the laws of physics were to be obeyed here when both combatants have thus far spat in the face of it with the sheer enormity of their speed, then neither fighter would be able to maintain physical form and composition after exceeding light speed as they have thus far. If Netwon’s laws were to be obeyed, then any object with physical mass that exceeds light speed would thus lose structural stability and disperse into particles of energy as the sheer friction and momentum would result in a destabilization of composition down to a molecular level. Sparga’s ability to move within attoseconds of time, which have thus far been declared as measurements of time which rays of light can be observed moving slower than a snail’s crawl, and Sparga’s acceptance of Kado’s superior speed are proof that both combatants have exceeded this boundary of physics. This is also nothing to say pertaining to either fighter’s demonstrated strength feats and exertions of physical force in this clash alone, nevermind previous actions and events either individual have participated in. Imposing limitations based on physics suddenly is dismissive to both fighters potential and thus far proven feats and abilities. A true warrior does not accept limits, even those imposed on them by nature itself. Rather, they see those restrictions placed upon themselves as a challenge - a dare to exceed and break through the ceiling to surpass their own weakness to continue improving and growing stronger. This is the defining core trait of all warriors, and of the Saiyan race that both warriors are a member of. And more than that, both fighters have proven multiple times in the past to possess abilities and strength that break the laws of physics with sheer effort alone.

Being a Superman, Sparga has regularly proven his ability to break the boundaries of gravity and impositions forced upon him by nature itself to prove himself as a warrior and a hero who values justice above all.

With this detail to consider in mind, we can thus proceed with coming to understanding how Sparga’s power, even as he hits his limits in speed, would enable him to punish Kado’s negligence toward defense. While it is true that Kado evaded the first punch and was battered by the shockwave produced by said strike, there is still the matter to address negligence in regards to keeping his guard raised and the failure to acknowledge the opposite hand whipping out in a feral arc to crash the back of his fist against the opponent’s jawline as they would be in the middle of their act of evasion. See the images below for an example of the described action in particular.


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Even if Kado was successful in evading the first punch, he acknowledged the production of the shockwaves this strike’s echo produced while evading while failing to acknowledge any production of defense on his part in correlation to Sparga’s effort to use his unutilized hand. Additionally, while Kado was confirmed to move at faster speeds than Sparga, the assumption that this is implies automatic superiority in reaction speeds and the ability to perceive events is not valid by regulation due to the requirement for precise and defined measurements of value to determine how much of an individual’s potential is being utilized. Even if we assume Kado might be possessed of the ability to perceive and react to such an action as Sparga’s off-hand swiping out, failure to specify how much and how quickly Kado perceives in this instance will be taken into consideration to determine the success rate of Sparga’s feral off-hand strike landing true to rattle his jawline and skull. While it is true that Kado had declared the following:​

“Kado's mind accelerated thinking processed this, his sharpened perception snapped into clarity. He didn’t just see the strike coming—he dissected it, frame by frame, with the ruthless precision of a mind conditioned to fight at speeds beyond human measure.”​

This does not define exact measurements or values to determine how fast he might perceive the incoming strike and thus assumptions cannot be made as to whether or not in this exchange, the potential or lack thereof to exceed the described speed of Sparga’s backhand fist moving within a single attosecond’s time frame. And as we cannot assume how much or how little of Kado’s ability to perceive within that time frame based on the lack of clarity pertaining to his maximum potential for perception speeds or output of any thresholds for his abilities limits, one cannot assume that even if Kado could perceive faster that he would be making a concerted effort to do so in this particular instance. As combat exchanges are defined by what is and is not said, failure to specify is tantamount to negligence and thus cannot be safely assumed to presently employ an active level of engagement that would verify Kado was presently using a level of his potential to witness this incoming strike before he could initiate the mental course of ignition to flare up his telekinetic discharge that might crash into Sparga. Meaning that failure to specify on Kado’s part would mean that even with him evading this first punch, the lack of clear and detailed measurements of speed cannot grant one the assumption that he would successfully release his telekinetic discharge before Sparga’s off-hand would have already slammed into his jaw violently and with oppressive force.

Reinforcing this is once again, the lack of discernable guarding efforts in favor of proceeding with exerting telekinetic discharge. With this in mind, we can continue to consider the failure to specify how much of Kado’s ability to witness Sparga’s speed within his own maximum potential was employed in comparison to defined values of Sparga’s own speed with which his attack ran to completion as desired. Based on information provided as well as lack thereof, one cannot safely assess that Kado might successfully release his retaliatory telekinetic strike before Sparga’s fist would have already moved through the opening to attack to pummel the warrior and drive him into an uncontrolled flight. Additionally, in accordance with understanding this, failure to acknowledge the second swipe from the backhand fist in any capacity in correlation to the above information regarding lack of clarity in regard to Kado’s speed at which his perception might register before subsequently releasing his telekinetic blast to collapse gravity in on itself on top of Sparga.

To quote the opponent’s post,​

But it was exactly in that fraction of a second of overextension that the fight turned.​

In the opponent’s recent two submissions, no real detailing is specified declaring how swiftly the actual telekinetic release of power is occurring at. And comparing a fraction of a second to an attosecond creates a massive disparity in speed at which both fighters might act. As a “fraction of a second” could imply any measurement of time less than one second, one cannot safely assess the speed at which Kado’s actions might play out in comparison to Sparga’s off-hand swiping strike occurring within a single specified attosecond. With this in mind, Sparga’s fist would crash through Kado’s lack of defense before he could initiate his full burst of telekinetic oppression to send him reeling with gargantuan force measuring in at 400 petatons of destructive blunt force trauma.

And upon which, his hurried haste to throw the blow would twist his spine and make him crash haphazardly into the ground in a roll before he’d skid and catch his bearing in a kneeling stance. Depending on how fast Kado might recover, Sparga would pick himself up while panting softly to stand upright and with a straight spine before exhaling slowly. The lack of oxygen on the moon wasn’t an issue for his physiology, and he was more than well adjusted to survive in the vacuum of space.

Sparga: “Just cuz you’re faster doesn’t mean you should be careless. You always were overconfident, y’know.”

The Superman would take a moment to allow his opponent time to gather himself as well, composing himself while waiting in respect for his rival’s recovery. Once his opponent was ready, then he would hone Mind and Body as One yet again. But for now, he’d wait calmly and in a lax posture.

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Unfortunately, Sparga's backhand struck across Kado's jawline with a force that could rattle one's whole head, blurring his vision white for a fraction. The sound of his bone singing hit his ears with the impact, his body whipping sideways before the follow-through tossed him into the lunar dust. He skidded, rolled, each bounce leaving grooves in the surface until he finally ground to a halt on one knee. His silver-embedded eyes narrowed at the surface, exhaling once more. He felt his bodily fluid rushing from the corner of his mouth, which was yet another reminder of the Saiyan of Steel's strength. He accepted the strike for what it was — not a denial, not an excuse, but a lesson. The blow had landed, a reminder of his own misstep, and rather than shy away from it, he bore it with resolve. Pain didn’t weaken him; it sharpened him. Sparga’s words lingered, pressing him to reflect, yet instead of dwelling on failure, he chose to rise from it. Every mistake was fuel — and this one would forge him stronger.

In the midst of this temporary intermission he began to generate his ki to compensate for the energy that was lost in their previous exchange. Instead of giving Sparga a verbal response, he instead responded by no longer taking this fight lightly. His Saiyan genetics amplified his anxiousness, making him want to extend this fight for as long as he could to get as much benefit as he could. His mind sharpened into singular focus, cataloguing the exchange frame by frame. The feral arc had carried weight, yes, but also imbalance. Sparga had twisted his spine and hip into the blow, committing everything to punish what he thought was negligence. A warrior’s instinct — but instinct was predictable. Kado pressed his palm into the shattered dust, energy bleeding from his skin in ripples. The gravity around him warped, pulling particulate into orbit as though a miniature star had awoken at his core. His aura condensed, honed tighter than before. He rose. Not staggered, not broken — tempered.

Both warriors had already shown their power could bend reality itself. Now, what mattered was precision, control, and unwavering resolve. He widened his stance, energy coiling around him like a tightly wound spring. His fingertips pressed into his palms, his fists tightening as if anchoring himself to the ground.

Then, energy erupted from him, surging outward like a wildfire tearing free from its cage. But the change wasn’t just in the force—it was in him. His eyes, once threaded with silver, now blazed molten gold, catching the light like living fire. His hair lifted as if caught in an unseen wind, straight and weightless above his head. The reddish-orange aura that had once radiated from him shifted to a steady, golden-yellow flow—waves of power moving in smooth, controlled pulses instead of sharp, erratic spikes. He remained calm. Every thought, every muscle, every heartbeat was synchronized. The reckless volatility of the Super Saiyan form had been tamed, transformed into a weapon of pure, refined power. His body, mind, and soul acted as one, elevating his strength and energy reserves far beyond a typical Super Saiyan—close to the legends, save for the might of Super Saiyan 4. His hair now gleamed yellow-white, a visible sign of his composed state. Sparks no longer rained uncontrollably from his aura; the energy flowed like molten gold, restrained yet potent. His transformation left the environment untouched, a silent testament to his mastery, proving that raw power could be wielded with elegance and control.

His golden eyes locked onto Sparga, speaking volumes without a single word. Determination and a flicker of anxious anticipation danced across his expression. He lowered into a subtle crouch, one arm drawn back while the other hovered protectively before him, as if wielding a sword. Then, as if summoned by his will alone, a blade materialized from thin air, shimmering with latent magic. His fingers closed around the hilt with steady precision, every muscle poised, every sense alert. He waited, motionless yet ready, his mind and soul perfectly aligned, radiating a calm that belied the storm of energy coiling within him.
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The thrill of success that came with landing a blow that is not only critical in its damage output but also disruptive to an opponent’s efforts is a rare joy in combat that few fighters can appreciate graciously and fully understand its importance. The resetting of the battleground to take a more advantageous position for ones’ self is a thing that any and every fighter should not only know how to utilize, but actively seek out. A true battle is not won with brute force, no matter how overwhelming, but with a keen mind and a sharp wit that can capitalize on every opportunity and every benefit that unfolds before them. Folly is the strategy that relies solely on strength without patience or reflex. And despite his lauded strength as the Saiyan of Steel, Sparga knew full well the importance of proper strategy and skill in a test of martial prowess. The self-proclaimed hero and protector of Earth still had the soul of a warrior at his core and that ability to push into a more beneficial position on the proverbial board was truly a thing of bliss to a warrior of the highest caliber like himself and he imagined like his opponent. He didn’t dare presume to insult by guessing whatever was going through Kado’s head - rather he just fixated and focused on righting his balance finally and gaining a proper stance after several clashes with him giving ground. He had seen what he wanted to see and had come to his own conclusions - results that he would consider going forward in determining how he planned to proceed.

Now that he had the time to breathe, the Saiyan Kryptonian hybrid took the faintest moment to inhale and then exhale out and filter the stale carbon air from his lungs. His senses sharpened into greater acuity and reinforced his perception, granting him that fabled preternatural perception his super senses were known for that bordered on precognitive to the inexperienced. His posture now correct and aligned into better stature, he let his physique root itself into a formless fighting stance and a shapeless guard that was more designed to react based on reflex and ensure a relaxed state of being while waiting for the need to move. Mind and Body as One, the Saiyan of Steel took his necessary precautions to ensure no detail or action might slip past him unnoticed without difficulty. This state of relaxed attentiveness has always been and ever will be Sparga’s greatest asset as a warrior - not his strength, but his senses and his sharp attention to detail. Though his strength was nothing to sneeze at too, and he knew that.

From his current position, the Superman could see, hear, and feel the alteration in the environment as it underwent into ignition. His senses perceived the ascension in rapid occurrence as Kado underwent the transformation to send his body to new heights bolstered by Saiyan strength to send every cell within his opponent’s being to a greater level of power. It was a state he was well acquainted with, and had long since surpassed if one were to ask his opinion of it. But he still had respect for the Super Saiyan transformation. Kado’s golden glow of majestic Saiyan strength sent the light aglow with his presence, igniting what little atmosphere lingered on the Moon to accommodate breathing with the static thrum of vibrating power lingering in the space around the two.

The distance between the two fighters was now vast but the magnitude of pressure exerting from Kado’s Super Saiyan release was respectable and let Sparga feel the existence of his challenger as if he were standing within arm’s reach of him, heedless of the several dozen miles across the Moon’s surface between the two, and then with his telescopic vision, Sparga could see the materialization of a weapon form within Kado’s outstretched hand as he summoned a sword within his fingers. The Saiyan of Steel’s features tugged into a gentle and confident smile at the sight and he cracked his neck to alleviate some of the aches accumulated in preparation.

Even in his present state, Sparga had proven himself multiple times now to be more than a match for warriors across multiple levels of the Super Saiyan state before tapping into his proper and true hidden potential. He could very well oblige Kado and release that dormant beast stirring from its slumber, but he wanted his opponent to draw that out of him, not because he felt like humoring him. Was it overconfident of him? Perhaps. But Sparga was and is Superman. And he had bested the warriors in the pinnacle of Super Saiyan 4 several times before now. He wasn’t sure what Kado’s current limits of power were in the state, but his history of surpassing the first grade of ascended Saiyan lent itself to his confidence to merit that belief. Sparga was not impressed by a Super Saiyan. Not when he was the literal Super Saiyan, depending on one’s definition. Until Kado might express strength and power warranting his full potential, he’d continue with his present levels of exertion.

His own right hand extended forward and with a concentrated flow of energy, the Superman willed a spark into ignition that stretched and compressed, forming at his will and thought into its desired shape. Due to the instantaneous nature with which his neurons fired off to perform cognitive function, thought transcended speed to form his energy and alter its properties into what he demanded it to become. And the spark of cerulean energy extended and expanded into a length of nearly 40 inches while its edges narrowed and tapered into fine points. The flow of energy ran at incredible speeds, whirring like a vibrational hum that intensified so quickly that the frequency at which the sound registered rose above the auditory perception range due to the absurdity at which the energy alternated and rotated in vibrational flow. Sparga’s mastery over alteration-type Ki manipulation expressing itself to form a blade of power whose edge maintained such intensive vibrational oscillations that its cutting potential would enable it to weaken the molecular bonds of whatever his Spirit Tsurugi came into contact with and magnify cutting potential, a superb weapon capable only of being produced by his hand.

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Mind and Body still as One with his formless fighting stance engaged and his senses alert to react at the slightest hair-trigger’s provocation within attoseconds of time, Sparga let his own energy flow and surge into pooling stockpile and gather efficiently so it might be stored and saved for later when the need demanded it. Sparks flickered off of his form as the waves of his aura briefly materialized into view, roiling like flames licking at his shoulders and frame. The dark brown cocoa hue of his irises sizzled with the dull ember glow of orange and red blazing heat that was beginning to broil and raise the temperature within his field of vision and as he prepared himself in his relaxed but alert state, Sparga’s body and power was beginning to draw upon another threshold of the power he constantly held back and restrained by conscious effort - a power that had proven itself superior to the might of even a super saiyan at the fourth stage twice over now. ((Prep Charge 1))

And with the dull glow of his Spirit Tsurugi flickering against the black void of space, illuminating his features, the Saiyan of Steel stood ready and prepared with his defenses engaged and his offensive selection poised. His arm steadied itself with his blade online - tip poised toward his opponent even despite the distance of several dozen miles between them. His challenge was obvious; If Kado wanted to test his swordsmanship, then he would be tested. The inaudible vibrational hum of Sparga’s blade steadied itself while he held his ground and slid his feet into the proper posture. Right shoulder facing forward at a slight tilt of his body’s positioning, he waited patiently and with his blade at the ready, and aimed to strike when necessary.

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