-enter Hadal
I was trapped on the sandbank. There was nothing to do but watch and try not to die.
Joseph and Tajudeen stood thirty feet apart. Neither moved. The air between them had gone the particular quality of silence that precedes something catastrophic—the way a held breath feels before it breaks. Then they were gone, both of them, moving faster than I could track even with flow channeled into my eyes. The collision when it came was not a sound so much as a pressure—a concussive wall that lifted me off my feet and sent me skidding backward across the sand until a crate caught me hard between the shoulder blades.
I dragged myself upright. My ears were ringing. Sand hung in the air like smoke.
They were still at it. I channeled everything I had into my eyes and the world snapped into horrible clarity: two figures moving at the edge of what bodies should be able to do, each blow answered by another, the ground beneath them spiderwebbing with each exchange. Joseph took a hit to the ribs that bent him sideways. He answered with an elbow that snapped Tajudeen's head back. Neither of them made a sound except for the wet percussion of impact.
Speed—matched. Strength—matched. Every time Joseph found an angle, Tajudeen closed it. Every time Tajudeen pressed forward, Joseph gave ground without breaking. I had seen Joseph fight before. I had never seen him work this hard.
They separated, both breathing. Tajudeen spat blood onto the sand and looked at it with what appeared to be mild interest. Then he looked up at Joseph and grinned, and it was the grin of someone who had been waiting.
"Not bad, you bastard."
Joseph's aura flared blue at his knuckles. "You've got that flow art. I've seen it once. Are you going to use it, or just stand there bleeding on me?"
Tajudeen laughed—a wet, rattling sound from somewhere deep in his chest. His face was a ruin: split lip, one eye swelling shut, blood tracking down from his hairline in two thin lines. He looked delighted. He raised one hand and pointed at Joseph, index finger extended, thumb cocked back.
An imaginary gun.
Nothing happened. A half-second of nothing—and then the world came apart. Black and green fire erupted from his fingertip in a column that should not have fit in the space between them, and Joseph was inside it before he could move. The roar of it swallowed every other sound. When it cleared, Joseph was still standing, but his robes were gone from the left shoulder down, and across his chest a burn was already rising, angry and red, the skin tightening around it.
He did not fall. He stood there and breathed.
"Well," Joseph said.
Tajudeen lowered his hand. He was still grinning.
Tajudeen roared in triumph. "How d'you like that, hero? You're just another overrated wreck."
Gasping for air, Joseph's eyes blazed. "You're a cliché villain—evil for sport. Explain your tricks all you want; you won't win."
I watched Joseph rally flow, surge against exhaustion. He would unleash that secret art—the same blast that once obliterated the monster-bullies. But he needed time… and Tajudeen was already stalking him.
"Alright then," Tajudeen sneered, veins pulsing black-green. "I'm a Third Blessing flow user. My flow art : Green Havoc ." Each breath he exhaled formed a glyph of crackling energy; he hurled jagged orbs that lit the sky with violent explosions.
Joseph dodged with the Cloud-Chasing Step—sand boiled when the blasts struck. Fierce pillars of flame and ash rose around them. I strained to keep pace, worried Joseph's reserves wouldn't last.
Abruptly Joseph dove into a widening crater—darkness swallowing him. Tajudeen lunged after. Adrenaline seized me; I leapt in, heart pounding. Water pooled at the bottom, cold and black, already rising past Joseph's ankles.
"The water," Joseph said quietly, almost to himself. "You've been herding me away from it this whole fight."
Tajudeen said nothing. His jaw tightened.
"Every blast, every advance—you kept me moving up the beach." Joseph's voice was calm, surgical. "You knew. Water kills your flow art."
"So what?" Tajudeen spat. "I'll climb out."
"Try it."
Tajudeen's eyes cut to the crater walls, slick with spray. His weight shifted. He didn't move.
"Too proud to run," Joseph said. "And now you can't."
He howled, claws of flow energy scratching the air. In one fluid motion he traced an Aetherglyph behind Joseph—a silent rune that detonated in a thunderous boom. Joseph rolled free, water geysering skyward. Then they crashed together: fist on bone, elbow in ribs, head snapping back. Joseph's counterstrike lit the crater in reflected silver.
The water lapped higher. Tajudeen screamed, flailing in panic. His vaunted pride drained into the rising tide. Joseph cut through his defenses—an elbow, a palm strike that sent Tajudeen sprawling. With a final, crushing blow to the temple, Joseph knocked him into silence.
Joseph hauled the unconscious form over his shoulder. "Time to go," he said. Both of us ignited the Cloud-Chasing Step and shot upward, escaping the watery abyss by inches. We burst onto the beach as waves thundered in behind us.
I patted his shoulder. "Nice work." He cracked a grin, sweat and sand gleaming. "Pleasure to put that bastard down."
"We need to report this," I said. "Rose at the Lance Corporation—she's got jurisdiction."
"Hold on. If we show up carrying him unconscious, we'll be in deeper shit." He nodded. I stepped aside to call Rose. Her clipped voice answered instantly—she'd sprint to us.
Back at Joseph's side, Tajudeen began to stir. Joseph poked him. "Hey, wake up. Where's the professor?"
Suddenly Tajudeen's last spark of flow flared in his fingers. He traced one more glyph. I was too slow—another shockwave ripped through the cliff behind us, carving a gaping maw in the rock.
We squinted through enhanced sight: from the blackened hollow emerged a beast the size of two houses. A monstrous crab: spiked pincers, armor plates like obsidian shields. Its rasping hiss echoed across the sand.
Tajudeen, wheezing, croaked: "Always have… a contingency…" He collapsed.
"Hadal!" Joseph barked. "Get Rose. Get help!"
I should have run. But the terror in its abyssal eyes kept me rooted. Joseph stood firm. My friend needed me. I would not abandon him.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said, voice tight with resolve. "We face this—together."
Joseph's eyes met mine. "If we die, it's been an honor."
"No. We kill that thing, walk away." Our flow auras flared across our limbs. The crab reared its pincers, hungry for flesh.
We surged forward. Hearts blazing. Flow crackling through every vein. We would not fall today.