The battle field was a deathtrap. Vesper stood in the center, his fingers twitching as green Fracture Points pulsed around him like jagged spiderwebs.
Nyx didn't just teleport; she sprinted. She closed the gap with raw physical speed, her daggers spinning in her palms. She lunged, but Vesper's "Lag Field" caught her mid-air. Her movement slowed to a crawl, and Vesper stepped in with a brutal palm strike to her chest The air left her lungs in a wheeze as she hit the stone floor.
"You're too slow for my world, little ghost," Vesper sneered.
Nyx spat blood and rolled as a green fracture line sliced the stone where her head had been. She vanished, reappearing directly above him, but Vesper anticipated the coordinates. He caught her mid-teleport by the throat, his hand glowing with spatial energy that felt like it was trying to vibrate her molecules apart.
Nyx didn't panic. She dropped her daggers, grabbed Vesper's wrists, and delivered a devastating double-knee strike to his chest. The crack of his ribs was loud in the quiet area. As he gasped, she headbutted him—hard.
Blood sprayed from both their noses. They tumbled into a messy, hand-to-hand brawl on the ground. Nyx wasn't a "ghost" anymore; she was a brawler. She rained down elbows, her knuckles splitting against Vesper's jaw. Vesper fought back, landing counter attacks of his own.
"I... won't... let... you... touch... them!" Nyx roared.
She vanished and reappeared in a rapid-fire strobe. Every time she materialized, she landed a strike—a kick to the kidney, a blade to the shoulder, a punch to the throat. Vesper tried to reset his Fracture Points, but Nyx was too close, her blood slicking his hands.
In a final, desperate move, Nyx teleported underneath his guard and drove both daggers through his feet, pinning him to the floor. As he screamed, she spun and delivered a roundhouse kick that sent him crashing into a concrete pillar. Vesper slumped, his spatial lines flickering and dying. Nyx stood over him, her vision swimming, her body a map of cuts and bruises. She had won, but she was barely a person anymore.
Across the underground few metres from the hideout, the two elite obsidian aliens layed motionless, their core shattered by ,EliaS and Renji.
The two stood panting, their eyes fixed on Skull.
Jaxen dragged himself up from the rubble, his breathing a wet, rattling sound. His ribs were pulverized, his left arm broken ,but his eyes were still sparking with a dying blue light.
Behind them, Sloane was huddled over Kaelen, her hands glowing a faint, flickering green.
She was crying silently, her Evo (the energy fueling her Evoliths) almost completely drained. Every spark of life she had left was being funneled into Kaelen's abdomen to stop the internal bleeding.
Skull looked at Kaelen, then at the spot where the boy had been beaten a minute ago.
"The lightning brat," Skull thought, glancing at Jaxen. "He must have used that flash of light to move the body without me seeing. Sloppy of me to look away."
Skull didn't care. He stepped forward, his boots heavy on the stone.
"You think you're saving him?" Skull asked, his voice a low rumble. "You're just giving him a few more minutes of pain."
"Shut up," Jaxen spat, blood leaking from his mouth. He stepped into a fighting stance, his one good hand crackling.
Renji activated his Star Eyes one more time, the two-edged stars straining his optic nerves. Elias lowered his center of gravity, his arms vibrating so hard the dust on the floor began to dance.
They were ready.
Outside, the hideout was a scene from a nightmare.
Dante roared, his massive black hammer swinging in a wide arc. The Gravity Well made Rook feel like it was made of lead. The floor beneath Rook's boots was cracking under his own weight.
"Die in the dirt, Xenocide!" Dante bellowed, bringing the hammer down for an overhead smash.
Rook didn't move. He couldn't. Instead, he slammed his palms together. Metal Manipulation.
The steel rails of the hideout tore themselves out of the concrete like snakes. They surged upward, wrapping around the hammer mid-swing. Rook didn't just stop the hammer; he used the metal to anchor it to the ceiling.
Dante pulled, his muscles bulging, but Rook was feeding every bit of his iron-will into the steel. He pulled more rebar from the walls, weaving a metallic web around Dante's legs.
"You... heavy... bastard..." Rook wheezed, his nose bleeding from the pressure.
He lunged forward, encasing his fist in a jagged gauntlet of fused steel. He hit Dante square in the chest. The impact sent a shockwave through the streets, but Santa quickly recovered
Dante swung a massive fist back, rook , but rook returned it back.
They traded blows like titans—one using the weight of the world, the other using the skeleton of the city. It was an ugly, long, exhausting fight. Neither would yield. The tunnel groaned, the metal screaming under the stress of two powers that refused to break.
Miles away, Gold sat in his luxury chair, the red wine in his glass catching the light of the monitors. He watched Nyx collapse. He watched the 10th form their line. He watched the 2nd Division struggle against Valkhyre on the surface.
"Beautiful," Gold whispered, cutting a piece of steak. "The desperation. The struggle. It's the best show in the city."
He leaned back, a cold, predatory smile on his face. He didn't care if the 10th won or if Skull crushed them.
"Cause at the end he will win.