In the heart of a kaleidoscopic dimension woven from the threads of infinite universes, two titans stood on a battlefield of swirling nebulae and cascading stardust. The Multiverse Arena, as it was known, existed beyond the comprehension of ordinary beings—a realm where only the strongest dared to tread. At opposite ends, Joker, known as The God Slayer, and Exarch, the Ender of Realms, prepared for a clash that would shake the very fabric of reality. Joker, a figure cloaked in an aura of mystery, surveyed his opponent with a cool, analytical gaze. His blue eyes, sharp as daggers, glowed beneath his dark hood. Known across dimensions for his strategic brilliance, Joker's reputation preceded him. His power, honed to its peak, mirrored the balance of existence—each of his attributes a perfect score. His casual stance belied the fierce intensity rippling beneath his calm exterior. Opposite him, Exarch, the Exarch of Oblivion, shimmered like a living deity of destruction. His form was a chaotic blend of cosmic energies, his eyes twin stars burning with an unearthly light. Where Joker personified balance, Exarch was a force of raw, unyielding power. His ability to unravel existence with a mere thought struck terror into the hearts of gods. Joker began, his voice resonant with unwavering confidence. "Exarch," he greeted, nodding slightly. "They say you end realms with a whisper. I wonder, does your power match the tales they tell?" Exarch's smile was a grim thing, a flicker of entropy incarnate. "Tales of power fall short. I exist to unmake," he replied, voice deep and laced with finality. "I only see titles, 'God Slayer.' Yet, I see fear attempting to hide in those eyes." With a nod, Joker activated his Analysis skill. Unseen strands of knowledge wove themselves into his mind—Exarch’s power to unravel time and space, his command over cosmic energy, the horrifying surge of strength he gained near death. Joker’s mind whirred, possibilities unfolding like a blooming flower. "What do you see, Joker?" Exarch taunted, drawing upon the swirling cosmic energies around him. "Your perception means nothing against the inevitable." "That," Joker replied, the hint of a smile touching his lips, "that is where you're wrong." As the combatants lunged at one another, the battlefield erupted into a kaleidoscope of light and shadow. Exarch's very presence dimmed the once-shining stars around them. You thought sent entire asteroid fields drifting into the void, erasing them from existence like scattered motes of dust. In response, Joker's body flared with mirrored energy. His Mirror skill was in full effect, borrowing Exarch's power to unravel realities against himself. With Strategists, he witnessed every possible counter before the first blow landed. "Feel your own power, reborn," Joker declared, weaving a cascade of unmaking energy back towards its source. But Exarch's defenses were becoming impregnable. Each time he brushed against mortality's shadow, he surged with newfound strength, commanding the battlefield with undeniable might. Just a whisper from him sent waves of entropy washing over Joker—a touch that threatened to erode even his balanced limits. Exarch's cold gaze locked onto Joker as the intergalactic fodder faded. "You can't withstand eternity's grip, Joker. Surrender the possibility." Joker, defiant and undeterred, focused his will. Every thread of thought, every distant possibility, surged toward a singularity—a path beyond the tangled webs of infinity. "Sundering universes only leaves nothingness. But from nothingness, you only gift me clarity." The tempo of the battle reached a fever pitch, a whirlwind of paradoxes and anticipation. As Exarch's power peaked near the edge of his own unmaking, Joker stepped beyond the facade of being—a culmination of his strategy. Then, with a brilliance that illuminated all corners of the multiverse, Joker called upon a mastery not of endings, but of potentials realized. The energy surrounding him sang, harmonizing impossibilities into a spell of binding. The change was instantaneous. Exarch struggled, as newfound chains bound him not just physically, but through the existential laws he once manipulated. Joker's foresight wove a reality where even entropy had its bounds. Exarch's roar echoed across the dimension, an epitaph of defiant will. "My power... forgotten? You dare?" With a resigned but firm gaze, Joker slowly nodded. "Because sometimes, Exarch, endings are only beginnings refashioned." The battle ceased, the cosmic chaos folding back into ordered beauty. The Multiverse Arena rang with a profound silence—a testimony to the clash of titans whose names reverberated across realities. Victorious yet mindful of struggle, Joker finally bowed slightly—respect paid to a worthy adversary. "Know that even oblivion carries its own origins," he murmured. As Exarch's form dissipated, carried away by the reborn cosmos, Joker stood alone in the remnants of their battleground. For a fleeting moment, he considered all paths tread and those yet unseen. In that reflection, Joker knew the truth of combat transcended mere victory or defeat. It was a dance of infinities, a test beyond gods—a realm where only the strongest dared to prove themselves.