The surrounding area seemed familiar in a sense, but ultimately failed to create the feeling of nostalgia currently present within Zerchiel. The events of the past were all but absent from his mind as his memory was comparable to a lab rat's. Standing atop the barren earth devoid of life, devoid of reason, while letting his golden irises gaze outward across the land, taking in the depressing image while having no effect on the man, Metatron trapped the knuckles of his right hand in the palm of his left, pushing against them until the loud cracking became audible.

"Don' think I'll be holdin' back on ya jus' cause we're trainin'!"

Yes, the time had come for their seasonal sparring session which started as a simple contest of 'Who's Stronger' and over time became a way of honing their skills. Arrogance radiated from his overconfident exterior with not even the smallest hint of fear within those focused eyes that locked onto his opponent. It were true that Metatron didn't fear Zerachiel in the least, but though some may observe and comment on his intelligence, he knew never to underestimate the man. After all, he was a guardian of the goddess.

Inhaling deeply the thick, dry air that was ever present around them, filling his lungs to capacity before emptying them with a slow, drawn out exhale, the energy known as 'Exodus' would only now begin to leak from his form, appearing as nothing more than steam emitting from his body. The limiter within his chest became active to watch over his vitals, stabilize his energy, and resonate with his gauntlets, as well as lock away the excess that would push it into second gear. With the opposing man's words, Metatron would begin by slamming his knuckles together with such force, a shock wave in the form of an expanding dome spread from his being, repelling the debris of surrounding area away while simultaneously pulling them towards them, the result being an unstable atmosphere that served to charge the gauntlets to an extent among other things.

"This is gonna be fuuun~"

Metatron saw through the attack meant to be a distraction having seen Zerachiel use that very same combination before, a way the man ended a large majority of his matches before they even had a chance to begin. Was he underestimating his opponent this time around, or just warming up? Either were insults in Metatron's eyes and only served to fuel his insatiable rage which was already roaring out of control due to the Exodus amplifying that emotion a hundred times over. Visually, one could make out the bulging of his muscles as they glistened in the sun, he raising the amount of energy allowed to circulate throughout his body at one given point in time, readying for the attack.

You see, coming into this match, Metatron realized that underestimating Zerchiel would lead to a quick loss, and so would have already boosted himself up, sending the limiter which resided within his chest into 2nd Gear. Making no effort to evade the attack, he charged forward, knowing that the blade would connect with it's intended target, though the intended results would fail to be. Right fist clenched tightly which caused the stretching leather to sound under the strain, the noise all but drowned out under the overwhelming noise brought about by the spiraling sand around them, Metatron launched his fist forward toward Zerachiel's face, Exodus twisting erratically around his entire arm, increasing the lethality of his attack while adding a gravitational pull, trying to draw his opponent inward. Needless to say, the unreal power behind this punch, further increased by Exodus would prove deadly if connected... Metatron was playing no games...