Ash sprinted across the asteroid's jagged surface. His boots scraped against rough rock, each step uneven under the weak gravity. Still, he didn't slow. The device in his hand blinked, blue light pulsing between his fingers.
[Unknown energy detected.]
He kept moving, eyes scanning ahead.
Then the air shifted.
A sudden force crashed into him. His body lifted, flung sideways. He twisted midair, slammed into the ground, and slid across sharp stone. His suit tore in places. Dust floated around him, caught in the low gravity.
He pushed himself up, jaw tight.
Someone stood ahead.
Hair floated around the stranger's head—blond, messy. A visor covered his eyes, silver light flickering across it. His hands stayed in his pockets. He didn't wobble. Didn't shift. Not even a twitch.
"You're in a rush," the stranger said, voice clear despite the thin air.
Ash rolled his shoulder and gripped his blade. "So you're the obstacle."
The man laughed and tapped his visor. "Not the obstacle. Just one of them. Name's Speedy." His smile pulled wider. "And before you ask—yeah, that's what they call me."
Ash said nothing.
Then he saw it.
The dust around Speedy's feet floated, curling in slow spirals. It moved like it was being guided—pulled and pushed with purpose. Not drifting. Not random. Wind Veinflow.
Ash shifted his stance. One step forward. Blade ready.
He moved—
His sword sliced through the space ahead—
Nothing.
A burst of air slammed into his back. Ash stumbled. He turned fast—too late.
Speedy stood a few steps away, same as before. Still relaxed. Still watching.
"That all?" Speedy asked. "Thought you'd be more interesting."
Ash lowered his blade just a little. His eyes locked onto the currents. The way Speedy moved. 'Not teleportation. Not raw speed. Short, sharp bursts. Wind blasting him in tight angles.'
His grip tightened. "Breeze family."
Speedy's smile twitched for a second.
Ash's breath stayed even, but his side throbbed. That first hit still burned.
Speedy tilted his head and grinned. The visor caught a flicker of light.
"Took you long enough to realize. Yeah, I'm from the Breeze family. One of the finest, if I do say so myself."
Ash's eyes narrowed.
The Breeze family didn't just use wind—they moved like it. They slipped past guards, bent around walls, hit from angles no one could block. Fast opponents weren't rare. But this wasn't speed. This was control.
Speedy rolled his shoulders and stepped forward.
"Now that introductions are out of the way… shall we begin?"
Before Ash could shift his stance, wind exploded behind Speedy. The blast launched him forward like a missile. Ash's gut twisted—he moved to dodge—
WHAM!
A sharp blow cracked into his ribs. The blur barely registered before pain burst through his side. His boots scraped across the ground as he stumbled, breath stuck in his chest.
"Tch." Ash gritted his teeth and spun, blade cutting through space—
Empty air.
Speedy stood behind him now.
"Come on," Speedy's voice bounced across the asteroid's surface, sharp and mocking. "You really think you can hit me like that?"
Ash didn't reply. His eyes locked on the shifting dust. 'He's fast, but not impossible. He's using bursts—short dashes. There's a rhythm.'
Wind shifted again.
Speedy vanished, reappeared right in front of him, arm already cocked.
THUD!
Ash twisted, but the fist still caught his ribs. The hit dug deep, pain blooming sharp. He staggered, body yelling at him to stop—but he forced his footing solid.
WHAM!
Another hit, this one across his shoulder. His body jerked, forced back a step, but he stayed standing. The sword in his hand trembled from the force, but he didn't loosen his grip.
Speedy tilted his head, disappointed. "You're tough, I'll give you that. But tough doesn't mean much if you can't touch me."
Wind spun.
Ash caught the blur—barely. Speedy flashed to his right, sweeping low at his legs. Ash jumped back. The strike missed—but only just.
BAM!
A kick smashed into his chest.
His breath left him in a rush as his body skidded backward, boots dragging through grit and dust. His pulse thudded loud in his ears. Speedy wasn't just moving fast—he was thinking fast. Watching. Adjusting. Every blow herded Ash into worse spots, like a trap tightening with every step.
Ash breathed out. 'I had fought strong opponents before, but this was different. This wasn't a battle of brute force. This is a battle of timing. I just need to know time where and when his attacks are coming from.'
Something stirred in the back of his mind. A voice—distant, cold.
"[Vein Energy: 75%]"
Ash's eyes twitched. 'What? But I wasn't using any skill.'
He hadn't noticed it. His veins had been lit since before the fight even began. Back when he left Max—his body had already shifted into survival mode. His thoughts were scattered, heavy with worry. He forgot.
Storm Vein. Static Surge.
They never deactivated.
Even now, pain dragging through his muscles, his body still moved faster than normal. His veins pulsed, feeding him strength. Not because he willed it—but because his instincts had done it for him.
Ash clenched his jaw. 'Dammit, even with my skills still active, I was still taking hits.'
Ash drew a slow breath. His hands shifted slightly on the sword's grip. His stance settled. The pain hadn't faded, but his body felt lighter now. His movements—sharper. 'Speedy is faster, but he isn't invincible. I can do this.'
Across from him, Speedy tilted his head. "Oh? You look a little more confident all of a sudden." A grin curled on his lips. "Did I wake you up?"
Ash said nothing. His eyes locked onto the ground, then the air, then Speedy's limbs. He waited.
Speedy clicked his tongue. "Fine, let's see if you can keep up this time."
Wind cracked.
Speedy vanished.
Ash didn't blink. His eyes followed the shift in the air, not just the blur, but the pressure that came with it. The wind wasn't wild anymore. It followed Speedy's movement. It was part of him.
The storm roared. Dust shot up, tearing at Ash's clothes. Speedy's laugh echoed around the space, cutting through the wind. "Come on, don't tell me that's all you've got!"
Ash didn't flinch. His chest rose and fell once. The sword in his hand stilled for half a second—then tightened. His ribs burned, the pain digging deep, but he didn't wait. If he waited, he'd lose.
Speedy vanished again.
Ash moved.
His blade slashed.
Steel met nothing—
—but then, resistance.
A hiss of cloth tearing.
Speedy reappeared mid-step, his arm pulling back fast. A red line traced down his sleeve, blood blooming against the fabric.
His smirk faltered.
Eyes dropped to the cut, then rose to meet Ash's. "Not bad."
Ash rolled his shoulder, pain still creeping through it, but he held his ground. A hint of a grin showed. "Not so untouchable now, huh?"
Speedy gave a short laugh. But it sounded different this time. "Guess I'll have to stop playing around."
He raised his hand.
The ground vibrated.
Wind coiled around him, no longer loose or wild. It spiraled tight, wrapping around his arm, then spread. Currents twisted into shape, forming circles—then tore outward, snapping into rings of raw force.
The air broke.
The sound of ripping wind filled the space, sharp and high, like blades screaming. The cyclones spun faster, biting into the ground, dust lifting in waves.
Ash narrowed his eyes. 'Here it comes.'
He dropped into a low stance, knees bent, eyes locked on the storm ahead. His breath came sharp through his nose, heart pounding like a drum.
"You got lucky once," Speedy said. His tone lost its usual grin. "Let's see you dodge this."
The tornadoes closed in.
Ash pushed off the ground. A gust slammed into his side. His body flipped mid-air, thrown back like a leaf. Before he could land, a second wind caught him—pulling, spinning, trying to tear him away.
His sword stayed tight in his hand.
He slammed it down.
The blade sank deep into the earth. The pull fought him. Wind bit at his skin. Dust filled his lungs. But his grip held.
Then—movement.
A shape burst from the storm, closing in fast.
It was speedy.
The wind drove him forward like a bullet. A fist crashed into Ash's gut. His body folded. Air left his lungs in a single dry gasp.
Ash stumbled. The world tilted.
Another hit was coming.
He shifted, blade rising with instinct. Metal cut through air. A wild slash. Too wide.
Speedy ducked. The tip of the blade missed his head by an inch. He landed smooth, barely leaving a mark on the ground.
He straightened, grinning again. "You're actually keeping up." He rolled his shoulders. "Guess this won't be a waste of time after all."
Ash wiped the blood off his lip. His feet spaced out again, solid on the dirt. He wasn't reacting anymore. He was reading.
Speedy moved fast, but not without rhythm. Every attack followed the wind. Every dash came from a direction. There was a pattern buried inside the chaos.
The wind rose again. Speedy blurred around him, a spiral of dust and speed. His figure bent with the air, slipping in and out of sight.
Ash didn't move.
He closed his eyes halfway. His shoulders dropped. The fight faded into silence for a moment.
A voice came back to him.
His mother's voice. Calm. Steady.
"Speed isn't invincibility. Fast opponents rely on momentum. You don't need to match them—just stop them in their tracks."
Ash let the thought settle.
Then his hands opened.
The sword fell.
It struck the ground with a dull sound.
Speedy paused.
His step faltered. Confusion passed through his eyes. Just for a breath. Just long enough.
Ash moved.
His foot snapped forward. His body followed.
A heat lit up in his veins.
"[Activating skill: Scorch Palm]"
His arm pulled back, then shot forward. Fire traced his skin, burning from elbow to knuckles. Light pulsed down his wrist.
Speedy saw it too late.
Ash's fist met his chest.
A burst of fire exploded on contact. Heat blasted out in all directions. Speedy's body lifted off the ground. His back slammed against the dirt. His limbs dragged through the dust before falling still.
The wind broke apart.
The storm ended.
Ash stood over the silence, hand still warm from the strike. Orange embers danced around his fingers before fading into the night. He clenched his fist once, feeling the sting.
'Weak. But enough.'
He walked to his blade, picked it up, and glanced back at the figure sprawled in the dirt.
"Too fast for your own good."
Then he turned, feet steady, and vanished into the dark.
————
Aboard the Apex Carrier Ship
The old man leaned back in his chair. A glass rested in his hand, the red liquid inside swirling with each lazy turn of his fingers. Holograms hovered in the air around him, shifting shapes and sounds lighting up his face with a pale glow.
His eyes moved from screen to screen, each one showing different battle zones. He watched without emotion—until one feed caught his attention.
His gaze stopped.
On the screen, a tiger looking creature stood alone. Flames wrapped around his body, moving like they were alive. They coiled and snapped in every direction, casting his shadow over the soldiers in front of him.
The creature didn't flinch.
The Apex troopers did.
Their rifles shook. Their feet edged back.
The old man let out a short laugh. He raised the glass and drank slowly, eyes fixed on the wild firestorm burning through the battlefield.
"So… he's finally embraced it," he said under his breath. "What a fascinating transformation."
The creature's fire spread, cracking the ground, filling the air with heatwaves. It blurred the screen's edges. Yet the old man stayed still, the smile on his face steady.
He leaned forward now, setting the glass on the edge of the armrest. His focus sharpened.
"This level of output…" His finger tapped the glass once. "Barely holding himself back. If he had been born in the Apex, perhaps he could've been something great." His lips curled upward. "Instead, he wastes it fighting against us."
The door slid open.
A trooper marched in, boots clinking against the polished floor. He stood straight, fist to his chest.
"Sir! The asteroid is too large to transport. Even our strongest ships can't move it." His voice pressed through the room, clear and careful. "What are your orders?"
The old man didn't move.
He reached for his drink again, lifted it, took another sip. Then he lowered it with a soft clink and looked toward the screen.
"We do the simplest thing possible," he said.
He waited.
Then added, "Blow it apart."
The trooper blinked. His jaw tightened. "Sir… what about Jov and Speedy?"
The room fell quiet.
Then, finally, the old man turned. His smirk stretched wider, though his eyes gave nothing away.
"They failed." He let the words fall, light and flat. "And failure has no place in the Apex."
The trooper stood frozen.
"They are weak," the old man said, flicking his hand like brushing dust from a sleeve. "Let them die."
A tight swallow. The trooper gave a stiff nod and stepped back, boots echoing as he turned toward the door.
"Ah, and one more thing."
The soldier halted mid-step.
"Make sure the clean-up is thorough," the old man said. "No survivors."
Another nod. The trooper left without a word.
The old man leaned forward, fingers moving across the console. The room answered with a low hum. The sound crawled through the floor, steady and deep. Lights along the walls blinked red, casting sharp shadows on every surface. Through the hallways, Apex troops broke into motion, fast and silent. Engineers ran their stations, hands dancing across panels, prepping systems without delay.
Outside, the massive cannons of the ship began to turn.
They locked on.
The hum grew louder, like a storm ready to break.
Then—
A flash.
Purple and blue light erupted from the belly of the ship. The beam shot out in a single line, clean and massive, cutting through the black of space. It struck the asteroid dead center. The rock shuddered. Cracks burst along its surface, each one glowing hot from within. The core trembled, light building inside like a heart about to burst.
A single moment passed.
Then—
BOOM.
The asteroid blew apart.
Stone shattered into burning pieces. Fire and force tore through the emptiness. A wave of pressure spread outward, tossing chunks of debris into the void. Smaller wrecks nearby twisted and spun, pulled by the blast, scattered like dust in wind.
Inside the ship, the hum faded.
The old man sat still, eyes on the screen. His hand moved to the glass. His fingers traced the rim, slow, like drawing a circle.
A small smile curled on his lips.
"Perfect."