Katarina's blades gleamed like twin falling meteors, their deadly energy pulsing in shades of emerald green and deep purple that made the surrounding air ripple as if under intense heat.
When the steel met Laura's claws, the sound was a heavy, muffled boom—like two iron blocks colliding—a detonation of brute force that pushed the smoke and soot outward in a ten-meter radius, momentarily clearing the battlefield's visibility.
Beneath Laura's feet, the stone ground immediately gave way. Fine cracks spread like spiderwebs, expanding in an instant until shards and fragments broke loose and rolled away.
The girl's shoulders and arms trembled, her muscles strained to their absolute limit, as if she were holding up a weight that went far beyond the physical.
She clenched her jaw so hard she felt the metallic taste of blood seep from her gums, yet she kept her spine straight, her feet planted in a flawless stance.
Before Laura could retract her arm, the hilt of one of the swords spun in the Enforcer's hand, and the solid metal pommel struck the girl's left ribcage with a sharp, concentrated force.
The sound of cracking bone echoed loud and clear through the ruins.
Laura was thrown backward, tumbling over loose stones and charred wood until she slammed against the wall of an old stone building.
Pain erupted through her flank like a red-hot spear, sharp and piercing, but what tortured her even more was the sensation beneath her skin.
The cuts she had inflicted upon her own arms moments ago now throbbed intensely, like tiny open mouths begging to be widened, begging for freedom.
"If you aren't going to unleash the beast you carry inside," Katarina murmured, raising her left hand and splaying her fingers as if summoning the wind itself.
"I will flay you piece by piece until it comes out on its own."
The twin swords struck out, following neither straight trajectories nor predictable paths.
They carved impossible arcs, angles that seemed to bend the very air, attacking from above, below, and through her blind spots.
Laura leapt, propelling herself off the debris with her legs. She moved with agility, yet remained shackled to the rigidity of someone trying to follow the rules.
When she raised a claw to parry one of the blades, the other swept low to the ground, whipping forward with immense force and tearing through the fabric of her pants, opening a long, deep gash on the side of her thigh.
Hot red blood welled up, trailing down her skin and dripping onto the dirt.
The scent of fresh iron rose immediately, spreading through the dense air and serving as a silent warning for what was to come.
The instant that odor hit her nostrils, Laura's vision partially darkened.
A thick, pitch-black, and ancient instinct began to rise up her throat like an unstoppable wave.
She tried to swallow it down, tried to fill her lungs with air to maintain control, but the itch beneath her skin became unbearable. It felt as though every bone, every muscle, every vein was trying to rip through her flesh to escape, to assume the form she was repressing.
Laura tried to dodge with agility, to parry the strikes with precision, to predict every movement just as she would with any other opponent.
She wanted to prove to herself, and to the world, that she was still in control.
And that was exactly what left her vulnerable.
Katarina noticed the hesitation before Laura could even initiate her first counterattack.
Her single eye gleamed with a surgical coldness, devoid of emotion, as if observing a defective specimen refusing to fulfill its purpose.
With a fluid, seemingly effortless motion, she twisted her wrists. The right blade slid flush against Laura's claws, tracing the contour of her guard until it opened a minimal yet sufficient breach, while the left blade rose in a clean, rapid arc, aimed straight for the throat.
With her defenses completely blown wide open, making no attempt to retreat or block in the ways she had been taught, Laura opened her jaws wide, revealing rows of sharp, serrated teeth like saw blades.
The moment Katarina's right blade rose toward her throat, Laura snapped her jaws shut with staggering force, catching the steel right between her teeth.
Simultaneously, the claws of her left hand shot out and clamped down on the other sword with absolute firmness, locking onto the metal like a living vice.
Sparks flew from the points of contact, scattering into the dark air and illuminating Laura's face, where only her eyes glowed with a blind, animalistic fury.
Katarina furrowed her brow, surprised for only a fraction of a second.
With a firm pull, she yanked both sword hilts backward, trying to tear them free.
But the metal didn't budge a single millimeter.
It was trapped between unyielding teeth and claws that seemed to fuse with the blade itself.
The Enforcer's arm muscles bulged beneath the fabric of her armor, veins popping against her skin, but the force holding her back was far greater than any calculation she had made.
"Keep it up..." Katarina's voice cut through the shrieking metal and grinding teeth—cold, effortless, almost satisfied.
"This is exactly what I'm talking about."
She pulled once more, to no avail, before continuing.
"Until now, you locked every muscle before taking a step. You paused to measure angles, calculate distances, decide which technique to use, as if your body needed permission to react."
"But the thing you carry inside doesn't obey rules. It doesn't need to think to act."
Katarina's fingers tightened their grip on the hilts, but the swords remained motionless.
"Let go, little girl."
Before she could finish the final syllable, Laura's body reacted without warning.
In a sharp, explosive motion, she drove her right elbow upward with all her might, aiming squarely at Katarina's face.
The impact was a heavy, muffled thud, like a stone striking hard wood—a blow that echoed through the ruined plaza and made the dust on the ground shudder.
Katarina's head snapped to the side. The air escaped her lungs for a brief moment as she was shoved backward, taking three short, unbalanced steps, dragging her feet across the cracked stone until she finally regained her footing.
Without wasting a second, Laura opened her jaws and spat out the blade.
A string of bloody saliva dribbled from the corner of her mouth, but her eyes never stopped tracking her enemy's movements.
Instantly, she raised both arms and unleashed two simultaneous, cross-slashing strikes with her claws. Each motion sliced through the air with a high-pitched whistle, like invisible razors, both aimed right at the center of Katarina's chest.
Her voice came out hoarse and guttural, stripped of any softness, filled only with the raw intensity of instinct.
"DIE!"
With lightning-fast reflexes, Katarina anticipated the trajectory of the strikes.
Shifting her entire body weight onto one leg, she raised the other and delivered a sharp, powerful kick, planting the sole of her boot exactly at the intersecting point of Laura's wrists and claws.
The hit was dead-on. The sheer force drove the girl's arms downward with such violence that the sharp tips of her claws buried themselves deep into the dirt and stone, carving two long fissures in the exact shape of her intended slash.
Before Laura even had time to pull her arms back or stand up, Katarina was already advancing.
She swiveled her hips and delivered a second, heavier kick that landed squarely in Laura's lower abdomen.
The air was ripped from Laura's lungs as if they had been completely crushed.
A wave of sharp, agonizing pain exploded throughout her torso, and a jet of thick, dark blood spewed from her mouth.
Her body was launched backward, suspended in the air for a few meters before slamming hard into the uneven ground. She tumbled over the rubble once more until she came to a dead stop, her head lolling to the side.
She tried to prop herself up on her elbows to stand, but she barely managed to lift her chest before a fresh wave of nausea washed over her.
Leaning forward, she vomited more blood, which dribbled down her chin and splattered onto the damp dust.
She squeezed her eyes shut, her vision flickering between darkness and flashing lights, battling the sickening internal sensation that her organs had been shifted, compressed, and knocked completely out of alignment by the blow.
A low, ragged groan escaped her throat, a mixture of physical agony and the disorientation slowly overtaking her mind.
"Laura."
The voice didn't come from the outside. It echoed directly inside her head—clear, soft, yet carrying a presence she recognized immediately.
In an instant, goosebumps erupted across every inch of her skin, as if an icy chill had traveled straight up her spine to the roots of her hair.
Her eyes snapped open. Turning her head with immense effort, she looked back.
Standing there was a slender figure, far taller than anyone she knew, motionless within the shadows.
Her disheveled, jet-black hair fell in long, thick strands, obscuring almost her entire face and body, leaving only vague outlines visible.
The silhouette didn't seem to completely touch the ground, hovering ever so slightly amidst the darkness.
"Come back to me, Laura," the figure said, extending a pale, slender hand that trembled faintly, as if waiting for something it already knew was coming.
Laura's heart raced.
The pain in her body seemed to fade for a split second, replaced by a desperate, primitive, and overwhelming panic.
She dug her palms into the ground, dragging her body backward with clumsy, forced movements until she managed to stagger to her feet, her legs trembling so violently they could barely support her weight.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" she screamed, her voice cracking between terror and rage. She took a few hurried steps forward, trying to escape the apparition, before her legs gave out once again and she collapsed to her knees.
Meanwhile, Katarina calmly crouched down. With the toe of her boot, she nudged the blade Laura had spat out, wiped the excess bloody saliva off the steel with a quick flick of her cloak, and gripped the sword firmly once more.
"Interesting," she murmured. Standing up slowly, she began walking toward the fallen girl. She took her time, observing her like a curious phenomenon.
"Are we having hallucinations now, little girl? Your mind just can't handle the struggle between what you want to be and what you truly are, can it?"
Her footsteps echoed sharply against the stones, drawing closer with every passing second.
"It's a pity you turned out to be a defective beast."
Katarina stopped just a few meters away, raising both swords as the green and purple energies began to faintly glow along the metal once again.
"So let's end this suffering once and for all."
*Shit...*
The thought came out muffled, buried beneath the throbbing pain in every bone and the taste of blood still clinging to her tongue.
Laura's eyes grew damp—not out of fear, but from a guilt that burned hotter than any open wound.
*I'm sorry, Suki... I'm sorry, Arthur...*
Their names echoed in her mind like a final plea, a memory she wanted to engrave before everything faded to black.
*I don't know what's going to happen now... but...*
Her inner voice died right there.
She lifted her face slowly, ignoring Katarina's approach, ignoring the screech of metal and the heat surrounding them.
She looked straight at the tall, shadowy figure. It stood perfectly still, its pale hand still extended, firm and waiting, as if time held no urgency in that space.
Laura reached out her arm with agonizing effort, her fingers trembling so violently they seemed to no longer obey her mind's commands.
The moment her fingertips grazed the cold, soft skin of that hand, a jolt coursed through her entire body. The pain suddenly vanished, the ringing in her ears ceased, and her confusion gave way to an ancient, familiar sensation—like returning to a place she was always meant to be.
Her fingers clamped down tight, gripping that hand as if it were the absolute last anchor remaining in the world.
"I'm back, mother," she whispered. Her voice was raspy, but devoid of any hesitation.