Bam, wam, bang — Ray's fists thudded into the heavy bag, sharp and rhythmic. Sweat traced down his forehead, soaking his shirt. The pain in his knuckles felt good. Honest. Every punch cracked through the stale gym air like a metronome ticking toward something big.
Maya sat on a bench nearby, chin in her hands, watching.
"You've gotten faster," she said, smiling. "Or that bag got lighter."
Ray stepped back, rolling his wrists and letting out a breath. "I feel light," he said. "Like a feather."
"Feathers don't usually throw punches like that."
Before Ray could answer, a loud BANG echoed through the gym, rattling the walls and turning heads.
They both turned their heads.
Someone had just been launched out of the ring — a thick-built heavyweight sprawled across the mat outside the ropes, groaning in a daze.
Luke stood tall in the ring, sweat barely glistening on his skin, arms crossed like he owned the place. "Man," he muttered, shaking his head. "They don't make you guys like they used to."
"You good?" he called down.
The guy on the mat gave a shaky thumbs-up, still catching his breath.
"Least three of you might give me a warm-up."
A new voice spoke up — sharp, cocky.
"Your lucky day then."
Another fighter climbed into the ring. Taller than the last, lean but coiled like a spring. He adjusted his gloves and tilted his head. "I'm close to his weight, but I won't go flying as easy. You want a challenge? I'll give you one."
He raised his hands — and two perfect clones of himself split off beside him, standing in sync.
Luke's eyes lit up.
"Oh," he grinned. "Now we're talking."
Ray and Maya stepped closer to the ring. The gym buzzed with quiet tension as people started to gather around.
Maya leaned in. "Should we be worried?"
Ray didn't take his eyes off the ring. "You're about to be impressed."
In the ring, Luke cracked his neck.
Luke smirked and raised a hand. "Let's make it interesting. I won't even move from this spot. If you can hit me once, I'll give you a lifetime membership."
The man's grin widened. "You're gonna regret those words."
Without hesitation, he charged. His fists flew — jabs, hooks, high kicks — rapid, precise, confident. But Luke didn't flinch. Every blow passed through air, or so it seemed, missing by inches as if his body wasn't quite there.
The man clicked his tongue in frustration. "Fine."
He and his clones lunged all at once, surrounding Luke from every side.
Maya stepped forward, worry flickering across her face. "He's not even—"
"Just wait," Ray muttered, arms crossed. "He's showing off."
Inside the ring, Luke tilted his head — the tiniest motion. A fist came flying — and he swayed just enough to let it brush past. Another came from behind — he ducked it effortlessly and let the punch slam into one of the clones. The clones tangled and collided, hitting each other as Luke manipulated their movements like a conductor guiding a violent orchestra.
One of the strikes landed square on the real fighter's cheek, breaking his own control. He dropped to the canvas, wincing.
"Stop messing around!" he shouted, staggering to his feet.
Luke didn't move. "I'm not."
The man's nostrils flared. "Then try this."
He closed his eyes for a brief second — and then multiplied.
Not three. Not five.
A dozen clones formed around him in a tight circle, moving in perfect sync. The ring pulsed with movement as they surged at Luke like a wave of bodies and fists.
Maya gasped. Ray arched his brow.
Luke's expression barely changed — though he did glance down, bending his knees just slightly. His hands lowered to his sides, fingers splayed, as if drawing something invisible toward his palms.
"This might be too many," he muttered. "Even for me."
The swarm closed in.
And then—
Luke roared.
It wasn't just a sound — it was a blast of pressure, raw force erupting from his lungs and fists like a detonation. The air cracked. The mat beneath him trembled. The clones didn't land a single hit — because they were all blown back the instant they entered his reach, like leaves in a hurricane.
Bodies flew.
The real one slammed into the ropes, crashing down in a dazed heap.
The room went quiet.
Ray let out a low whistle. "Damn."
Maya grinned wide. "Wow, so cool. What was that move he used?"
Ray leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly.
"There's three types of Gifted users, more or less. First, you got Fox-Weavers, they're the ones who can create or manipulate things—people like Josh, tossing lightning like it's nothing. Then there's Variantes, the abstract types, whose powers mess with space or perception. Louis fits that—teleportation, bending distance like it's origami."
"But Luke... Luke's different. He's an Orin, whose gift is physical. Super speed. The kind where he doesn't dodge you—he just watches you swing, like you're moving underwater. Every punch, every step you take, to him? It's in slow motion."
He paused.
"But that's not what makes him scary."
Ray's tone hardened.
"Luke has access to divine magic."
Maya's eyes widened. "Wait, isn't that the church stuff? I thought only priests could use it."
Ray nodded.
"Yeah. That's because divine magic isn't something you're born with like a Gift. Anyone can learn it — but the process is brutal: thirty days trapped alone in a sealed holy chamber, no food, no water, only prayer and whatever visions come. Some people go blind from the light. Others walk out mute. Most don't walk out at all."
Maya shuddered. "Divine magic is supposed to be defensive, though. Healing, protection, barriers — it's not even meant for combat."
Ray chuckled darkly.
"Exactly. That's what makes Luke a monster. He weaponized it. He figured out how to release divine energy into a single point in his body — like his fist or his foot — and compress it. Then when he lets it go—"
He mimicked an explosion with his hands.
"The air cracked like glass — not from the punch, but from what he let go.
Maya's eyes sparkled. "Incredible."
Ray shook his head, grinning.
"Yeah, yeah, but that's not all. He doesn't even need to touch you. He can focus his energy outside his body too. It's more draining, but if he pulls it off, he can plant pressure right under his opponent's feet. Like walking on landmines."
Luke clapped a hand on Ray's shoulder.
"Your turn!"
Ray looked up in horror, nerves tightening his gut.
"You know, I just remembered I have somewhere very far away to be."
Luke grinned, I know a place you can go, it's called the ring.
Ray whined "Why me? Don't you have anyone else to beat up?"
"Everyone else already left. It's closing time." Luke said
Ray raised an eyebrow.
"Left or ran away?"
Luke laughed.
"I get customers traveling across the country just to train here. This is the only gym in America for gifted users — a place where everyone can let loose and fight without fearing they'll accidentally kill someone. Right, Maya?"
Maya, busy bandaging the guy on the ground, gave an eager thumbs-up.
"That's right, boss!"
Luke gestured toward the ring.
"Come on, Ray. Hop in — let's go for a few rounds."
Ray tightened his gloves reluctantly.
"Fine... but don't cry when you get hurt."