I'm gonna write my inner world on some bubble out in Void. here I go

>THE ARTIFACT AND THE REACTOR: A RIVALRY FORGED IN OPPOSED FIRES
(Zestus Auriga vs. Daigoro of Akavir)

>The Auction House of Mournhold
Smoke coiled like a sepulcher’s breath above glass cases holding Dremora Hearts, Oblivion Sigils, and the still-writhing Eyes of Vaermina. Zestus Auriga leaned against his stall, armored in reforged Dragonbone Cuirass inset with soul-gems, sipping scrib jelly from a chalice. His laugh cut through haggling merchants: "Fifty thousand septim for Mephala’s Kiss-Dagger? Please. I scraped that off a Scamp’s ribcage in Fargrave’s gutters."

Across the hall, silence pooled around Daigoro. Straw hat shadowing eyes like banked coals, he watched Zestus hawk damnation to the highest bidder. His twin wakizashis—Tsukuyomi & Amaterasu—hummed softly inside their scabbards. No one bid near him; the air tasted of ozone.

>The Confrontation at Zenithar’s Vault
Zestus tossed Molag Bal’s chained mace onto velvet. "A steal at 200,000 septim! Inflicts existential dread!"

Daigoro’s voice fell like a blade. "You trade in suffering, Auriga." He didn’t gesture; behind him, two 15-meter Oni-Class Mechs powered on, plasma cannons cycling. "That artifact could destabilize ley-lines from here to Black Marsh."

Zestus grinned, tapping a Dwemer orb at his belt. "And your reactors could melt Solstheim into slag. Don’t moralize at me, *Reactor-Lord*." The orb pulsed—a Titan Fabricant materialized behind him, dripping liquid shadow. "We both sell apocalypses. Yours just have... warranties."

Tension crystallized. Patrons fled. Yet neither drew steel—Daigoro’s hat tilted just so; Zestus’s jelly-cup didn’t tremble.