Rocot: Reborn

In a twisted city polluted by shadows, Rocot stood on the top of a tall tower, gazing at the gradually brightening skyline in the distance. The huge black bat wings behind him were quite eye-catching, and every flap brought a whirlwind, as if it could take away all the particles in the air.

"What a boring hunting ground." Roccod muttered, his eyes flashing with a sharp light like a hunter. He seemed to be a little tired of this endless game.

In his vision, those people in futuristic clothes were running around like ants, with panic and helplessness on their faces. Facing the bloodthirsty zombies that had lost their minds, they had no power to fight back, and could only try their best to let out a desperate whine before falling. And every time such a scene happened, Rocot would happily read out their names, and then use even more cruel means to complete the fatal blow.

Rocot bent down and picked up a shiny piece of metal. In this chaos, the power of technology seemed particularly fragile, and the defense measures of the future city were almost useless. Ironically, those creators who once claimed to be wise could not even protect their own creations. Rocot waved the metal piece in his hand, letting it make a slight sound in the air, as if playing a farewell song for this sad reality.

The atmosphere of the hunting ground is filled with a suffocating silence, and behind this silence is the despair of human civilization being torn apart. Roccod wanders aimlessly, and for him, this is a feast that is both lonely and unbridled. This may also be the last lament of the future city, and this dark movement is constantly playing in the death of each note.

At some point, Rocot stopped, as if he noticed something, and his eyes briefly flashed with interest. He disappeared around a street corner and reappeared standing on the top of a skyscraper.

In this city shrouded in shadows, strange beasts hid in the darkness. They were Rocot's creations, and each one represented death and pollution. But at this moment, a figure in an old black robe moved among the beasts with ease, waving the staff in his hand from time to time to emit rays of light, destroying the beasts one by one.

Rokod stood still and began to observe the figure with interest. He could see that this was an ill-intentioned opponent, but judging from his magic pattern and movement steps, he seemed to have some orthodox flavor of the justice camp. If nothing unexpected happened, he was the so-called "tombkeeper" in his memory.

As if they were racing against time, Rocot and the Gravekeeper both used their best skills. The bat wings behind Rocot began to flap rapidly, and dark energy swirled around him, forming small vortices. The Gravekeeper, relying on the sacred light of his staff, pushed closer to Rocot with this power.

The gravekeeper solemnly recited a spell, and a strong light shot out from his staff, seeming to illuminate the entire place as bright as day. When the light faded, a spear shining with light energy appeared in front of the gravekeeper. He quickly threw the weapon, and the spear flew towards Rocot with a dazzling glow.

Rokod responded without showing any weakness. He pulled out a round shield from the bottomless shadow and blocked it in front of him. After a deafening explosion, the battle between the two seemed to shake the entire sky.

Although the enemy in front of him was very difficult, Rocot had already planned his next move in his heart. No one knew that this King of Darkness, who had gone through countless dark nights of hardship and difficulty, had died and resurrected again, and his instinct for scheming and calculating had not diminished at all.

The ending is self-evident between the helpless future gravekeeper and the experienced Roccod. But the real key is, in this battle of unequal power, who can control the coveted secret - the technology with the power to change the world.

Time seemed to have frozen, and at this moment, everything seemed to have settled. Rocot's figure became a swan song, and a drop of blood and tears slowly dripped down the gravekeeper's resolute cheek, adding an extremely tragic color to this picture.

In the center of the city, there stands a thick stone pillar. In times of danger, Rocot and the gravekeeper came here together for the final confrontation.

The magic elements in the air were boiling, and the light was rising and falling, stretching the shadows of the two people very long. When everything returned to silence, Rocot's figure had disappeared. The gravekeeper quickly looked around, trying to find the figure of the King of Darkness.

However, only the cruel beasts were left in the streets and alleys, and where Rocot had stood, only a stone slab that had been worn by time remained. Just as the gravekeeper was puzzled, he suddenly felt a strange vibration under his feet.

Something seemed to be awakening beneath the trembling stone slabs. Tiny stone chips began to fall off the slabs, and an energy completely different from the surrounding darkness emanated from them.

Under the stone slabs of the past, the secrets that it had been trying to hide were revealed. A hand bone as white as jade slowly stretched out from it, and what flowed on it was not blood, but the terrifying dark power. This power of Rocot was reviving from the cemetery, taking back its treasure from the hands of the god of death.

As the power of darkness rose, the shock caused by this devastating force was no longer limited to this ruined city. Countless greedy eyes and horrified gazes began to be cast here, and a new chapter seemed to slowly begin in the form of a countdown.

"Lokold... why, do you have to become the cancer of the world?" said the gravekeeper with an angry tone that almost tore the air apart.

Rocot drew an exaggerated arc, with his huge bat wings waving in the air. He looked at the gravekeeper with a mocking look and said softly: "I am not a cancer. I would rather they call me... a gift."

"You! You are so stubborn!" The gravekeeper's eyes were filled with rage. It was obvious that Rocot's "joke" did not please him.

"In that case, let me, the Walker, judge you!" The figure of the gravekeeper turned into a stream of light and stabbed towards Rocot with the power to collapse mountains and split rocks.

Facing the sudden attack from the gravekeeper, Rocot showed a thoughtful expression, and slowly and leisurely drew out a long sword from the void. The long sword swung forward with Rocot's will, and the space seemed to condense under the sword energy, and time seemed to stop.

However, the attack of the gravekeeper had already arrived. The two forces condensed into a sonic boom in the air, and a circle of energy ripples spread out from the core of the battle between the two.

The gravekeeper's attacks were smooth and each strike sounded like a trumpet of justice. Roccod's defense was equally pleasing to the eye, and each counterattack was graceful and elegant, as if he was the best actor on the dark stage.

The earth is already devastated, but the sky is tense.

The two finally pulled away from each other, with Rocot having his signature smile on his face.

"I admit that you are a good opponent. However, I always have a little more time than others. So in this game, I always win." Rocot danced in the air with his back to the setting sun, as if he had merged with the darkening sky.