Unfortunately for Xavier, that potential energy would not be as useful as he was hoping. El Rey could do nothing about the mercurial nature of Dreadmetal, which is to say he could not stop it from transitioning from one phase to the next, but he had accepted that fact the moment Xavier dropped to the ring wreathed in crimson fog. What he could do, was remove it from existence entirely. This was the power granted to him as the Fifth Apocalypse of the Luchalliance and there were none who could defy this edict be they mortal or immortal. As such, though Xavier had time to absorb some of the latent Dreadmetal in the surrounding area and in the metal gloves, due to the simultaneous nature of his punch and explosion a great deal of that potential energy would simply cease to be.

Not ground to dust, not evaporated, not even reduced to a base state of free energy. In sheer ignorance of the laws of thermodynamics it was simply gone. That isn’t to say that Xavier couldn’t produce more or draw energy from the ambient chaos in the surrounding area. But destruction was a double-edged sword and wielding it as a source of power was in no way a guarantee against its touch, it was a frightening prospect for many cosmic warriors, who often held their personal power source as sacred and superior. Above all attempts at reproach. However, to stand against El Rey was to discard such foolish notions, for nothing was ever safe standing before him and even eternity came to an end.

Perhaps Xavier had seen beings similar to El Rey, but he had never seen anything exactly like him.

Yet, the powers of destruction and chaos were fair in their own twisted way. El Rey was not able to subvert Xavier's powers in any way other than sheer force and volume, with clever application playing a secondary role, and he certainly could not make them his own. Everything El Rey wielded could be destroyed, in fact once the energy of his ethereal super punch had expended itself, there would be no trace of it to be found even if one were to sniff through every dimension layered beneath this one. He could, and would, produce more not only by drawing on his inner reserves but by leeching from the ambient chaos all the same. If Xavier wanted to steal El Rey's power source for his own there was but one way, to defeat him in a martial contest and then accept the title of the Sixth Apocalypse. The generally accepted way to do this was in melee, though La Maquina seemed determined to prove she could do it at range, and having access to spells didn't hurt either although magic was by and large blunted by his armored fur.

In a sense, the two of them were caught in a cosmic sudden death match.

Whether the specifics of El Rey’s power gave Xavier pause or not it hardly mattered. The Master of Blood and Metal was not intent on retreat, hell, he didn’t even let El Rey give him the chance to do so. He summoned a pair of earthen pillars to replace the fallen ring post and braced himself against them, the explosion had knocked him from his feet but thanks to those pillars he was able to land on his rear maybe a few inches back from where he’d been before, his hands splayed out to either side of his body and his head turned up. That Dreadmetal which he’d managed to summon had formed a skintight shield over his entire body with which to weather El Rey’s assault. He hadn’t been fast enough though, and the further out from his core the more his skin had flayed away to reveal the pulsing red and corded metal beneath. Meanwhile the Fifth Apocalypse was left to loom, fists clenched at abdomen level and smoking in the aftermath of a mighty attack and no doubt transitioning into another position as he advanced…

It was not a good position to be in.

Xavier was pooling his energy and anyone with a lick of sixth sense could see it coming. The crimson light pulsing in his gaze was a telltale sign that there was something big on the horizon, but as swift as his preparation may have been, El Rey’s was on him just as fast. Since his opponent wasn’t leaving the ring and there was no distance between them, it was no longer safe for him to grandstand and would also make no sense for him to demand the other get back into the ring, so instead he chased his falling opponent. Two of the four eyes on his costume snapped shut just as the beam of power warmed over him. El Rey directed a fresh charge of apocalyptic power into coating his body in a shield of energy so as to deflect that roving wave of power. El Rey concentrated his energy to a fine point, so that he became not unlike a rock standing amid a flowing river, and though he could feel the incredible force of Xavier’s beam wrenching at his body he refused to fall back.

Not even a half second later El Rey’s left arm was diving out of the beam and palming Xavier’s skull, fingers like claws burrowing into his scalp and then wrenching back. This would mitigate the amount of time he had to spent swimming through the optic blast by directing it up and into the atmosphere, where the Masked Judgment’s power shields simply deflected the beam. Nigh simultaneous to that would be his right fist crashing down and into the side of Xavier’s head, fingers clenched tight and with spikes of neon purple power surrounding it. The charge he’d spent went into turning his fist into a mace, calcifying that frightening power which he wielded into several solid-state constructs designed to punch their way through Dreadmetal as he understood it, though they’d work just fine on muscle and bone. By advancing while his opponent was still falling and bracing, El Rey was preempting any attempt at a defense, taking advantage of the new positioning and punishing Xavier for his hasty attempt to stay in the ring. Because of this, the fact that he was going straight into attacking out of a rest state and Xavier would be bracing himself before entering a defensive one, it was safe to assume he’d get at least one or two good punches in before anything happened. It also went without saying but a man like El Rey dropping his fist on someone’s face was devastating, the force alone would be enough to rattle the earth for miles around, and the spikes of power in question would hopefully provide the x-factor necessary to eradicate any passive or poorly prepared defensive options in place.

The blows would continue to fall, one after the other and faster than the eye could follow, up until Xavier stopped him. As for the second charge he’d spent, well that would come into play a little later…