Luke grinned, the air around him tightening as his mana flared—no restraint now. Not against an Avatar.
"You really picked the easiest delivery option," Luke said, voice calm but sharp. "No running. No hiding. I almost feel grateful."
Stryker answered with a smile that wasn't human.
Red light erupted from his eyes.
The beam hit Luke mid-sentence.
BOOM—
Luke was launched backward like a meteor, tearing through the air before slamming into the ocean below. The sea exploded upward, a towering column of water punching the sky as his body vanished beneath the surface.
For a heartbeat, the waves raged.
Then—
The water froze in a perfect circle.
Luke burst back out, ice shattering around him as lightning crawled over his skin, eyes glowing with cold focus. He hovered above the sea, steam rolling off him.
"Good," he said, cracking his neck. "Now we're done warming up."
He vanished.
Not moved—vanished.
Stryker barely had time to react.
A fist wrapped in blue-white lightning slammed into his ribs—
CRACK.
The air folded in on itself. Clouds split apart like torn fabric, and the ocean far below was crushed flat for an instant before erupting upward in a ring of steam.
Stryker was launched skyward, his body vanishing into the clouds.
Luke didn't pause.
Lightning detonated beneath his feet and he shot after him, tearing a vertical path through the sky.
High above, Stryker twisted midair—then laughed.
Bone and flesh crawled across his arm, reshaping violently. His forearm split open, unfolding into jagged, reptilian plates, muscle thickening, joints locking into something inhuman. The transformation was fast. Brutal. Purpose-built.
Luke's second punch met it head-on.
BOOM.
The impact detonated between them. Lightning and corrupted energy exploded outward, shredding cloudbanks into vapor. Luke was forced back a half-meter in midair—eyes narrowing.
Stryker hovered there now, arm fully transformed, claws digging into the air itself like it was solid ground. Black veins pulsed beneath his skin.
"Heh," Stryker growled. "You hit hard."
Luke cracked his neck once, electricity crawling across his shoulders.
"Good," he replied. "I was worried you'd break too easily."
The clouds around them twisted, spiraling faster and faster—then ripped apart.
Stryker multiplied.
Not blurs. Not illusions.
A hundred of him burst outward in a perfect ring, surrounding Luke from every angle—above, below, and all around.
"…What the fuck?" Luke muttered, eyes snapping from one to the next.
A hundred pairs of eyes glowed red.
"Shit—"
Luke shot upward—
BOOOOM.
A storm of crimson beams tore through the sky where he'd been a fraction of a second earlier. The air screamed as the beams converged, not heat—but raw concussive force, like Cyclops' blasts turned up to insanity. Clouds were blown apart. Pressure slammed into Luke even at a distance.
The Strykers didn't stop.
They chased him.
Beams kept coming in relentless bursts, forcing Luke to dodge again and again. Then the physical assaults began—fists, knees, shoulders—each strike landing with terrifying weight.
Luke blocked one punch—his arms shuddered.
Another slammed into his side and sent him spinning.
He caught himself midair, lightning flaring—only for three more to crash into him at once.
"Tch—!"
He twisted, countered, struck back—his blows landed solid, but the Strykers barely staggered. Their strength was on par with his, every hit backed by brutal force.
Red beams clipped past his face. One grazed his shoulder and detonated behind him, the shockwave throwing him sideways.
Luke was forced fully defensive now—dodging, blocking, weaving through overlapping attacks. Blue lightning cracked around his body as he parried blow after blow, the sky turning into a violent mesh of red and blue.
This doesn't make sense.
He ducked under a beam, caught a fist, and wrenched—only for another Stryker to hammer him in the ribs.
These aren't random powers.
Luke steadied himself in midair, lightning crawling over his skin as he stared at the ring of enemies closing in.
Mutant powers. Which only raised one question—how did Stryker end up with them?
The Strykers laughed—one voice echoed from a hundred mouths.
"Heheh. And here I was worried," Stryker said, stepping closer as the circle tightened. "Turns out you're weak too. I can't believe I was scared of you for even a moment."
Luke lowered his head.
Then he smiled.
The air roared.
A deafening dragon's cry split the sky as a massive crimson maw tore open behind Luke. A blast of annihilating heat erupted forward—pure, overwhelming force.
Half the Strykers didn't even scream.
They were erased.
Bodies, beams, clouds—gone. Evaporated mid-motion as the blast punched a hole straight through the formation, leaving empty sky where dozens of Strykers had been.
The laughter stopped.
Luke straightened, eyes glowing faintly.
"I was caught off guard," he said calmly. "That's all."
Blue-white lightning condensed in his palm, compressing inward, tighter and tighter. The sphere warped space around it, the air screaming as energy collapsed into a blinding core.
A compressed Divine Cataclysm.
Not an explosion yet—just potential.
Enough to mimic a nuclear detonation without fallout.
Enough to erase.
"Now," Luke continued, raising his hand, "you're dead."
The remaining Strykers reacted instantly—beams fired, bodies lunged, space distorting as they tried to escape—
Too late.
Luke hurled the sphere.
There was no flash at first.
Just silence.
Then the sky collapsed.
Light swallowed everything. The air itself disintegrated as the blast expanded outward, vaporizing clouds, burning away sound, erasing every remaining Stryker in an instant. Red beams vanished mid-fire. Bodies dissolved into nothingness.
When it ended, the sky was empty.
No enemies.
No debris.
Just scorched air slowly knitting itself back together.
Luke hovered in the torn sky, lightning fading from his hand, clouds still boiling where the blast had erased everything.
…Is he dead?
The thought had barely formed—
A presence flared behind him.
Too close.
Luke twisted on instinct as a blade-shaped hand sliced toward his head—only to slam into an invisible wall. His mana barrier flared hard, rippling like struck glass.
Clang.
The Stryker stood there, arm pressed against the barrier, smiling.
At the same time, Luke's vision glitched.
[WARNING: External entity detected]
[WARNING: Avatar of Corruption attempting system intrusion]
[WARNING… WARNING…]
Luke vanished in a burst of displaced air and reappeared several meters away, already raising his guard.
Stryker straightened, looking almost amused.
"So," Stryker said lightly, spreading his arms, "you're the same as me after all."
Luke's eyes narrowed.
"Someone chosen by something greater," Stryker continued. "Someone who doesn't belong to this world's rules."
As he spoke, cracks spread across his body. Black fissures crawled along his skin, pieces of him flaking away into nothingness—as if the body itself was rejecting whatever inhabited it.
"This vessel is… inadequate," Stryker admitted, glancing down at his disintegrating arm. "But it's enough."
He looked back up, eyes gleaming with malicious certainty.
"Enough to confirm."
"My next attempt," Stryker said, voice echoing unnaturally, "will take your head."
The figure began to unravel, dissolving into black motes that were pulled inward—not dispersing, but retreating.
At the same time, Luke's system went berserk.
[WARNING: Skills module corrupted]
[ERROR: Skill access blocked]
[ERROR: Multiple functions unresponsive]
[Initiating purge protocol…]
[FAILURE]
[Initiating safeguard: isolating corruption]
[Partial success]
Luke staggered slightly.
It felt like invisible chains snapping into place around his core—tight, restrictive, absolute. Power he'd accessed instinctively moments ago was suddenly out of reach. Still there… but sealed.
*****
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