Francis struck without warning.
His compressed body snapped forward from the darkness, his tail hardening into a jet-black blade as he entered striking range.
Kinetic Calibration pushed his already enhanced body beyond natural limits, turning the motion into a killing sprint. The rear formation never saw it coming.
CRACK!
His tail slammed into the first agent's hazmat helm, crushing plastic and bone in a single motion.
Before the body collapsed, he redirected the momentum, curving his strike toward the second soldier who had just begun to turn.
The impact shattered the side of his skull.
The third agent tried to raise his rifle, but Francis adjusted again, the tail dipping mid-swing before snapping upward at an unnatural angle. The visor cracked, and the soldier dropped instantly.
Three agents fell in less than a second.
Before their bodies hit the ground, Francis moved again.
He wrapped around a fourth victim, his long body tightening. The target's neck creaked under the pressure while the surrounding agents hesitated.
They couldn't fire.
Shooting now risked hitting their own teammate, especially in such a tight formation.
'Amateurs.'
Francis exploited that hesitation.
The trapped agent struggled, boots scraping against the ground as he tried to pry the coils loose. The others drew their combat knives, moving in with slow, careful steps.
Close-quarters combat.
Safer for them.
Or so they believed.
Francis lashed out.
His tail whipped forward toward the nearest soldier. The man raised his dagger, attempting to parry based on the expected arc of the attack.
Then it shifted mid-strike. It dipped beneath the knife before curving upward, bypassing it completely.
Seeing the bodies drop one after another, the remaining agents finally opened fire.
Gunshots echoed through the tunnel.
Francis already moved.
The second the first trigger was pulled, he leapt forward. His spring-like body compressed, then released, launching him from one agent to the next.
Each landing lasted less than a heartbeat. His tail snapped out every time he touched down, crushing skulls, breaking necks, or piercing visors before they could adjust.
They tried to track him.
They couldn't.
The tunnel was too tight. Visibility was poor, and he moved like a shadow slipping between blind spots. Worse, he could now change direction mid-air, thanks to the combination of his talents.
Each time they thought they got his trajectory, he twisted.
A shot that should have landed struck their allies instead.
A blade aimed at his path cut nothing but air.
'Never thought fighting like a beast had its own advantages. That last talent really elevated my fighting power.'
Walls became footholds.
Corpses became stepping stones.
Even the ceiling became another path.
The agents couldn't adapt fast enough.
And the dead kept piling up.
Francis landed lightly against the tunnel wall, his body clinging to the rough surface as he observed the remaining opponents.
Unfortunately, his time ran out.
Jax stepped in.
The change in the air was immediate.
Unlike the others, Jax didn't chase Francis with his eyes alone. He watched the space instead — the walls, the ceiling, the angles Francis favored.
His stance lowered slightly, sword bending in his grip ready to strike.
Francis leapt again.
Jax moved at the same time.
His sword snapped forward, curving mid-air and cutting across the projected path like a thin sheet of metal slicing through the air.
Francis twisted mid-air, his body bending unnaturally to avoid the strike.
But Jax adjusted just as quickly.
The flexible blade bent again, following the new trajectory as if it had predicted the movement from the start. The sword carved through the air, forcing Francis to shift again.
Even so, Jax's blade followed smoothly, tracking each shift as if it had a mind of its own.
Clang!
Blade met tail with a metallic ring that echoed through the tunnel.
Sparks flew, but Francis used the clash to spring backward before escaping toward the shadows.
The other agents opened fire, bullets tearing through the tunnel walls.
Francis already predicted this outcome. He darted toward a tight corner, using the narrow space to his advantage. The walls limited their aim.
"Stop. I'll chase it," Jax barked, launching forward in a blur.
Moments later, the fist user finished dealing with the scattered worms and grew furious at the sight of his dead allies.
"Stay here and see if you can save the others," Nilo ordered the remaining squad, his deep voice carrying authority.
Then he sprinted after Jax, making sure he wouldn't run into any unexpected trouble. It was clear by now that Leon was already dead.
At the same time, an uneasy sensation gnawed at him. The worms raining from above felt too deliberate to be mere coincidence.