The night air was thick with tension. Kael was on his knees, blood dripping from the gash across his shoulder. Ace stood over him, blade gleaming under the dim moonlight, his breathing steady but his eyes cold. This was it. One clean swing, and it would be over.
Then, in a blur, a massive figure materialized between them. Ace barely registered the shift before his blade clashed against something dense—something immovable. The sheer force of the impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, the pressure distorting the air itself, kicking up dust and debris. The very ground groaned beneath the weight of the collision.
Ace staggered back, his grip tightening around his blades as his gaze locked onto the new arrival. The man was huge—easily towering over him—with a presence so suffocating it felt like the world itself was bending around him. A thick, oppressive aura rolled off him in waves, pressing into the bones of everyone present. Yet, despite his overwhelming power, his eyes were sharp, calculating. He wasn't just a brute—he was a tactician, reading every move before it was even made.
Kael gasped, clutching his wound as he looked up at the man who had just saved him. He wasn't sure who this was, but there was no mistaking it—this was true power, the kind that could shape entire battlefields with mere presence alone.
The silence shattered as Sam lunged forward, his aura flaring as he twisted mid-air, aiming a devastating punch at the intruder's side. But the man barely shifted, catching Sam's wrist with surgical precision. The moment their skin connected, Sam's energy fluctuated wildly, his very essence thrown into disarray as if his own aura no longer recognized him.
"What the hell?" Sam gritted his teeth, trying to pull away, but his limbs felt sluggish—like the man's very presence was disrupting his internal flow.
The man finally spoke, his voice deep and controlled. "Too slow."
With a flick of his wrist, he sent Sam flying, crashing into the ground with a force that cracked the earth beneath him. The shockwave carried through the battlefield, unsettling the terrain itself.
Xavier moved next. His body moving so fast that it became a blur as he darted in from multiple angles, his attacks weaving through the air with deadly precision. He didn't rely on brute force—every strike was meant to test the opponent, to probe for weaknesses. Feints, shifts in momentum, adjustments mid-strike—yet the man countered them all effortlessly, as if reading the flow of battle in real-time.
Wei and Phiona coordinated next. Wei's fingers flicked, releasing a barrage of razor-thin projectiles infused with aura, each designed to slice through armor and flesh alike. At the same time, Phiona vanished into the chaos, using the battlefield itself to misdirect, appearing and disappearing in bursts of momentum, waiting for the perfect opening.
The strategy was sound. Wei's projectiles forced the man to react, limiting his movements, while Phiona sought a blind spot. Yet, it was futile. The man navigated through the storm of attacks with an eerie grace, twisting through the onslaught as if moving through a calm current, untouched, unharmed.
Then, in a split second, he moved—so fast none of them registered it until it was too late. His hand shot forward, his fingers striking Phiona's abdomen with pinpoint accuracy. She barely had time to react before she was sent flying back, crashing into the rubble with a sickening impact.
Ace's breath hitched. His fingers trembled. Something inside him snapped.
A voice, deep and commanding, echoed in his head.
Not to kill, But to protect.
The words settled like an undeniable truth, cracking something deep within him. A surge of raw energy erupted from within, distorting the air around him. It wasn't just power—it was something primal, something woven into the fabric of who he was. His sword pulsed in response, its edge sharpening as if awakening. His vision blurred for a moment before snapping into perfect clarity. Every movement, every breath of the man before him became apparent—his stance, the micro-adjustments in his balance, the way the flow of battle subtly shifted in his favor.
Ace moved.
Faster than he ever had before.
His blades clashed against the man's forearm, and for the first time, resistance. Sparks erupted as the impact carried weight. The man had to exert force to block it. Ace twisted, using the momentum to unleash a flurry of strikes, each one sharper, faster, deadlier.
The battlefield shifted.
Ace was pushing him back.
For a moment, the others watched in stunned silence. The impossible had happened—Ace, who had been on the brink of defeat, was now making the man retreat. But it wasn't victory. It wasn't clean. The power Ace was wielding was erratic, unpredictable, and it was clear to everyone that he wasn't fully in control. His strikes were getting wilder, the tension in his body building with every movement, his breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps. His muscles burned, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Ace's energy was burning too fast. His movements, while powerful, were unstable. His body screamed under the pressure, his vision faltering for moments at a time. The power surged through him like an uncontrollable force, threatening to tear him apart.
The man noticed too.
And then, he adapted.
The shift was subtle but immediate. His counters became sharper, his reactions a step ahead once more. Ace's strikes slowed. His strength wavered. His vision blurred again, this time from exhaustion rather than clarity.
The man struck.
The fight dragged on with ace pushing him back, it's was clear that ace was getting tired as fight continued, and finally the man found and opening.
A devastating blow to Ace's gut sent him hurtling backward, his body skidding across the ground before coming to a halt. His vision darkened. His limbs refused to move. His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps.
The last thing he saw before slipping into unconsciousness was the man turning away, Kael standing beside him.
Then everything went black.
---
When Ace woke up, the pain was the first thing he noticed. His entire body felt like it had been torn apart and stitched back together. His teammates surrounded him, their faces a mixture of concern and frustration.
Sam spoke first. "You almost died, dumbass."
Ace groaned, sitting up slowly. "Well, I didn't, so let's focus on that." Then he looked at phiona with concern as if he remembered at bit of what happened before he got into the fight with Bulk man, But Phiona smiled as she said "Don't worry I'm fine"
Xavier exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You lost control. That power—whatever it was—it's unstable. If you keep using it like that, it's going to kill you."
Ace was silent for a moment, then chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, but for a moment… it was fun."
The room fell quiet.
Sam frowned. "Fun?"
Ace grinned. "Yeah. I mean, did you see me? I was keeping up with that guy! I was actually pushing him back."
Xavier crossed his arms. "And then he wrecked you."
Ace's grin faltered slightly, but he shrugged. "Details."
Phiona, spoke next. "We need to figure out what that power was. And how to control it. Because right now? It's just as much a threat to you as it is to our enemies."
Ace exhaled, leaning back against the wall. His blades rested beside him, its blade still humming with residual energy.
He stared at it for a long moment before nodding.
"Alright. Let's figure this out."
Deep down, though, a gnawing fear crept at the edges of his mind. That power—it was intoxicating. Addictive. And the more he used it, the more he could feel it pulling at him, as if it wanted something more.
And worst of all? He wasn't sure if he could stop himself from giving in.