The command hub crouched at the edge of the shelter like a wounded box abandoned by the storm: a black cube of sealed alloy, with smooth and unbroken surfaces, swallowing light rather than reflecting it. The air inside the hub was cold, not the clean chill of winter but a damp, metal stinging weight that clung to the lungs. The sour reek of sweat seeped from armour and skin, layered over the undercut wet‑earth smell of damp soil.
In the corner, an aether crystal lantern hissed softly, its pale glow spilling across the floor, then vanishing into the dark, humming wall of the barrier on the far side.
"Where the hell is the Corporal?"
The Major's voice cut through the muffled roar of activity beyond the cube, sharp against the background of shouted orders and clattering gear. His brows dipped low, the skin between them carved into a deep seam, as if someone had etched a groove there through years of scowling. His hand rested on the wooden table in front of him, his fingers laid over folded maps, crisp memos, and half‑filled reports.
A soldier stepped forward from the shadow's edge of the cube. His heavy‑dark armor was practical, plates layered for defense, the mud on his boots was still slick and fresh from the earth outside. He clasped his hands behind his back, the leather of his gloves creaking softly as his fingers curled.
"I retrieved him as instructed, sir," his voice was steady but low, as if the hub itself were pressing down on his words.
The Major moved around the table, his boots grinding into the dirt floor in slow, deliberate steps. The sound scraped against the silence inside the cubicle, each step drawing the sergeant's jaw tighter. He closed the distance until the air between them felt thin, almost poisoned by tension. Close enough now, the Sergeant could smell the sharp, stinging bite of whiskey on the major's breath, the faint, sour warmth of it clinging to his nostrils.
"Then where in the hell is he, Sergeant?" The Major's voice didn't rise in volume, but in pressure.
As if summoned, the black cube hissed open with a soft, pneumatic sigh, a hairline crack splitting the surface before widening just enough for a figure to slip inside. The hatch sealed behind him as quickly as it had opened, the metal surfaces sliding back together so seamlessly it looked as though no passage had ever existed.
Dark, curly hair fell across the newcomer's forehead, damped with water moisture and clinging to his skin. He came to a rigid stop, heels clicking together with a sharp, clean sound that cut through the thick air. His hand snapped up in salute, the metal plates on his shoulder clinking softly against one another in the motion.
"Corporal Omar reporting, Major," his voice steady, though a single bead of sweat traced a slow, glistening path down his temple, catching the faint crystal light before vanishing into the dampened collar of his armor.
The Major's eyes fixed on him, unblinking.
"You took your time, Corporal."
Omar's arm dropped, but his fingers clenched at his sides. His teeth ground together, the muscles along his jawline tightening.
The Major let the silence stretch, long enough for the distant thump of boots and shouted orders to bleed faintly through the walls. Then, without shifting his gaze, he spoke.
"That bitch of a Paragon is here—"
"Lady Tessa is here?" Omar's eyes widened, the question slipping out before he could stop it.
"—Of course. I had no expectations from you. You were slacking before she arrived, same as always."
"Aren't the Paragons busy with the attacks currently running across the tier?" Sergeant Daniel stepped forward, his voice low but edged with disbelief.
"Apparently." the Major said. "But we have a Code X‑1 VIP‑E‑1."
Daniel's brow furrowed. "What's a high‑ranking official doing on this tier?"
"I can't say. And that's not the priority." His attention shifted back to Omar. "Return to your post. Do your work. Stop offloading your duties onto civilians. The Paragon is already on our tail, and I will not have her finding more reasons to look our way." He glanced between them. "Both of you are dismissed."
"Yes, sir." Omar saluted sharply before pivoting on his heel and striding toward the sealed wall. The hatch opened just enough for him to slip out, then snapped shut behind him, sealing the hub in silence once more. Daniel followed, his armored boots thudding heavily against the earth.
"Fucking stay out of it, paragon. You have enough to fight without poking your nose into mine." Omar muttered under his breath as he stepped out into the open air, the cold wind cutting sharply against his flushed skin.
...
"I will give you one more chance." Ivan's voice carried across the open ground, thick with the effort of breathing steadily. "Drag yourself through the mud and beg. I'll forgive your foolishness."
Kaelen exhaled, a short, dry laugh. "Aren't you just scared to lose?"
Ivan's frown flickered, then twisted into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. His frame blurred suddenly, as he dashed forward, the space between him and Kaelen collapsing in an instant. His fist arced upward, a heavy hook aimed at Kaelen's face, the motion carrying the weight of a rising hammer.
Kaelen shifted his weight to the left just enough, letting Ivan's knuckles whistle past his cheek, then twisted his hips and drove his own fist into Ivan's torso.
BAM.
The impact slammed into Ivan's chest. His feet sank into the earth, boots grinding into the dirt as he skidded backward, loose soil and pebbles sprayed up behind him. Kaelen didn't let him find purchase; he closed the gap, his fist raised again, aimed at Ivan's head.
Ivan caught the strike with one hand, fingers locking around Kaelen's wrist without effort. His chrome body bulged, veins of silver‑light pulsed across his skin like liquid metal threading through flesh, rising and spreading with each heartbeat.
BAM.
The world snapped around Kaelen. Pain flared in his ribs, then exploded outward across his chest as Ivan's second strike connected. His body tumbled through the air, before he crashed into the earth, dragging a shallow trench through loose soil and shattered stone. Dust rose in a thin cloud, swirling in the humid air.
Ivan was already over him, his fist raised again, aimed at Kaelen's skull. The air crackled, the scent of hot metal thickening in Kaelen's nose.
KRAAAK!
The earth cracked beneath the impact as Ivan's fist drove into the ground where Kaelen's head had been an instant earlier. Dust rose outward, stinging exposed skin and eyes.
"Would you stop running?" Ivan hissed, closing the distance between him and Kaelen, who was already slipping backward, his boots scraping across broken earth. His fist arced again, aimed at the back of Kaelen's head.
[–38 A.E]
Kaelen's frame vanished in a flicker of motion, then reappeared behind Ivan, his body a blur as he reoriented mid‑air.
BANG.
Ivan's body lurched upward, thrown off‑balance by the force of the strike. His spine bent, his feet leaving the ground as he flipped, the momentum spinning him like a discarded log. The air whooshed from his lungs in a harsh gasp.
[–19 A.E]
Kaelen didn't let him crash. He was already moving, cutting the gap between them before Ivan's body could fall. His fist met Ivan's torso again before his boots even kissed the ground.
BAM.
The second impact drove Ivan even higher, his body snapping backward as if caught in a sudden gale. Kaelen kept his rhythm tight, almost mechanical, each strike timed to the split‑second pause between Ivan's struggles. He appeared and reappeared in quick, flickering bursts, like a flickering candle in a draft.
To those watching, Kaelen was a blur, appearing in one spot to land a punch, then vanishing only to reappear behind or beside Ivan, striking again before the first impact had fully settled. It was like watching someone play tennis with a single ball, the only opponent been their own relentless motion.
Penelope's eyes tracked each movement, her lips twitching faintly before flattening into her usual composed line. Jay watched with her mouth half‑open, pupils tracking the flashes of motion, only catching Kaelen fully when he stopped long enough to deliver a hit.
"How are you moving that fast?" She whispered, though the words were swallowed by the hungry roar of the crowd.
...
BANG.
Ivan's body slammed into the earth with a heavy, wet thud, sending a wave of displaced soil and shattered stone skittering outward. The impact gouged a deep furrow in the ground, raw earth flaring up in a fan of dust.
[–114 A.E]
[A.E: 1,346/1,555]
"Haa… Haa… Haa…" Kaelen's breaths came in short, ragged bursts as he doubled over, hands braced on his knees. His chest heaved, sweat beads running down his hair. Across the clearing, Ivan pushed himself up on shaking arms, his chrome body flickering and uneven, patches of normal skin bleeding through the silver sheen.
'I have to try something else. His defense is high.'
Kaelen straightened, shaking his head slightly to clear the dust from his eyes, then raised his hands. Energy crackled around his fingertips, blue‑white arcs flickering and dancing, the air above his palms warping as if heat‑distorted. The space between his palms began to distort, bending inward, folding into the shape of a spear‑like lance of condensed distorted heat.
Then, as suddenly as it had formed, it burst into nothing, the energy dissipating in a soft hiss.
He tried again, channeling aether more carefully, drawing the threads of invisible currents into his palms. The air around his hands warped once more, the light sharpening, the lance stabilized, then vanished again.
He took a gentle breath, drawing more aether from within, feeling the currents coil and twist in his veins. A faint blue‑liquid light started to wrap around his forearms, glowing like captured water, then suddenly winked out, leaving only his bare skin behind.
'I can't use output skills?'
"I will give it to you." Ivan's voice cut through his thoughts, hoarse but sharp. "You're full of surprises." His hand traced along his jaw, his thumb catching a trickle of blood at the corner of his lip before he spat a mouthful of red onto the ground. The viscous liquid splashed across the dirt, staining it dark.
Kaelen's eyes widened. 'My attacks had an effect.'
Ivan's chrome body flared, engulfed in a rushing tide of liquid‑silver light. His muscles bulged harder, his chrome veins bursting across his skin like molten rivers. "Let's end this."
KRAAAK!
The earth beneath Ivan cracked, a jagged fissure splitting outward from his feet like a spider's web. He vanished in a blur, reappearing in front of Kaelen an instant later, his fist raised in an arc aimed at Kaelen's neck.
Kaelen could have dodged; it would have been easy. The world had slowed around him, every details sharpening, the faintest tremors in the air and the faintest shifts in Ivan's stance were readable like written text. This wasn't just the heightening of senses; he was adapting, matching Ivan's rhythm, learning the patterns of his movements. The longer the fight went on, the more predictable Ivan became in his aggression.
Kaelen twisted his body, letting Ivan's fist whistle past his throat, then drove his elbow into Ivan's face.
BAM!
Ivan's head snapped backward, his body staggering, but he planted his feet deep, boots grinding into the earth as he fought to keep his balance. He turned to strike again, but Kaelen's next blow caught him in the ribs, snapping his torso sideways and sending him skidding across the dirt.
[–19 A.E]
Kaelen appeared in front of him again, his fist driving into Ivan's jaw in a sharp uppercut. The impact lifted Ivan's body off the ground, his boots dangling for a heartbeat, but before he could fall, Kaelen's fingers found his leg wrapping around it.
He swung him left and right, using his body like a bat against the earth. The ground cracked and webbed, craters deepening with each impact, shallow stones cracking under the force.
When Kaelen finally let go, he stomped down, driving Ivan's body into the earth.
BOOM!
Each impact detonated like a tiny explosion, Ivan's body sunk deeper into the soil, the earth splintered, and cracked outward. Blood smeared from Ivan's mouth, already staining the ground, but Kaelen didn't relent.
"He's going to kill him."
"Shouldn't someone stop this?"
The murmurs of the crowd drifted, worried and sharp, but they fell on deaf ears as Kaelen continued his relentless assault, his feet a blur of motion.
"Lira…" Jay turned to Lira, her voice nervous, but Lira paid no attention, her eyes fixed on Kaelen's rampage.
CRAAACK!
[–170 H.P]
"Argh!" Pain flared through Kaelen as Ivan managed to catch his foot mid‑stomp and twist it viciously. The crack of bone snapped through the air, sharp and unmistakable, and Kaelen's ankle twisted at an unnatural angle.
[–48 A.E.]
Space stretched between them, elongating like a snapped rubber band, then released with a soft crack, separating Kaelen and Ivan by ten meters in an instant.
"Fuck." Ivan hissed, spitting out another mouthful of blood as he forced himself up. His aether flared, silver light writhing around his body like a storm barely contained. He turned to Kaelen, but instead of the wrath he'd carried, something else flickered there—worry.
[–48 A.E.]
[+211 H.P]
Kaelen's twisted ankle straightened right before their eyes, the bone snapping back into place with a faint, wet sound, the skin knitting over the bruising as if invisible hands were sewing it closed. The crowd murmured, disbelief rippling through them.
'Nice, Kaelen.' The ash-haired boy was grinning, his eyes fixed on the ankle as it finished mending. He hadn't moved from where he'd been watching.
...
Ivan stood straight and held his chin up.
"You're pathetic." His voice had some of the old edge to it. "But I'll let this go. Just this once. I forgive you."
The words hung in the air, heavy and hollow, but Kaelen wasn't listening.
He was watching Ivan's chrome body. The way the light that played across it had changed. What had been a smooth, unbroken sheen was now riddled with hairline cracks, as fine as spider silk, spreading from his knuckles to his wrists, from his wrists to his forearms. The chrome veins that had bulged with power now pulsed erratically, bright and dim, like a failing heart trying to find its rhythm.
"You're not forgiving me," Kaelen said quietly, his voice calm and tired. "You're scared."
Ivan's expression twisted. The scar around his eye pulled tight, making that eye seem wider than the other. "Scared? Of you?" He laughed, but it came out short.
Kaelen didn't answer. He just stood there, with his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his wounds already closing. The gash above his eyebrow had stopped bleeding. The split in his lip had knitted itself together. His ankle, twisted and broken minutes ago, now held his weight without complaint.
Ivan saw it. Everyone saw it.
The crowd's muttering shifted, their tone shifting from awe to something sharper.
"He's healing."
"What ability is that—"
"It's not just healing. Did you see how he was moving?"
"What is he?"
"Look at his face… the cut's gone."
Ivan's chrome veins pulsed once more—bright and desperate.
Then he moved.
TSHHKKK.
The earth beneath him cracked, the sound sharp as a gunshot, echoing through the clearing. He crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, his fist raised, the silver light around his body burning like a miniature sun.
Kaelen didn't dodge. He stepped into the attack.
The crowd gasped, someone in the front row flinched as if struck themselves.
Ivan's fist came down like a meteor, aimed to crush Kaelen's skull.
BOOOOMMM!
KRAAAK!
Kaelen caught it with both hands, fingers wrapping around Ivan's chrome knuckles with a firm, unyielding grip. The impact slammed through his arms, his shoulders, his spine, shaking his entire frame. His boots sank into the earth, carving deep trenches as he was pushed a full meter backward, dust exploding around them in a rolling wave.
But he held.
Ivan's eyes went wide, his pupils dilating. He tried to pull back, but Kaelen's grip was firm, his fingers tightening just enough to make the chrome veins in Ivan's arm flicker and dim.
"You're strong, Mr. Ivan." Kaelen's voice was calm, pitched low enough that only Ivan could hear it over the ringing of the impact. "But you're not a fighter. You're a bully."
He twisted his arm hard, wrenching Ivan's wrist into an unnatural angle, then drove his knee up into the crook of Ivan's elbow.
CRAAAACK.
The sound cracked like a branch in a storm, snapping across the clearing. Ivan's arm bent where it shouldn't bend, his chrome veins flaring once in protest before dimming. His knee hit the ground, the impact sending a jagged crack spider webbing through the earth beneath him, the ground split with a hiss of dust and loose stone.
"Get off me," Ivan snarled. He tried to rise, but his chrome body was failing now. Patches of normal skin showed, like rust breaking through paint, his silver sheen fading in uneven patches. "Get off me and fight properly."
Kaelen didn't move. He kept his grip on Ivan's arm, fingers digging into the fading chrome, holding him in place, keeping him on his knees. The scent of scorched metal and sweat hung heavy between them.
"It's over."
"It's not—"
"It's over." Kaelen's voice was firm, but not cruel. "You lost. Apologize for the chaos, and let this be."
Ivan stared up at him through one wide, bloodshot eye, the scar around it pulling tight. Rage still burned there, but something else crept in behind it.
"You should have killed me, boy."
"Over a child's dispute? I'm not a killer."
Ivan laughed. It was a broken sound, wet and bitter, like laughter half‑drowned in blood. Then he pulled his arm free, and this time Kaelen let him. Ivan pushed himself to his feet, swaying, his body just flesh, bone and bruise, no longer encased in chrome. He stood there for a moment, his head bowed.
"I'm sorry," the words hung rough but clear.