Chapter 2: There can only be ONE!
It was a bitterly bright day.
The sun beat down like a hammer, seemingly right through the flimsy barriers set up above Tokyo Stadium. The crowd, seated in row after row of benches directly beneath, didn't particularly seem to notice, or even care.
They had been up the previous night, performing whatever indulgence required, to turn each and everyone of them into hyperactive, bloodthirsty monsters come dawn.
The clamor was frightening in its intensity, like the roar of a great beast unleashed upon the world. Some teams were shattered by that roar, each member fighting, losing, dying alone. Others were unified, forged into an invincible force.
The DHS Team drank in the cheers, drank in the roar. But there was no response
on their part. It was as though nothing had happened.
Chan, Ryan and Jiazheng took their seats in the stands, perfectly located for easy assistance. Andro made his solitary way to the ring, waiting for his first foe to appear.
This was the most tense moment before the fight. Until the others took their seats, neither team would know who they were up against.
Very slowly, two figures trooped over to their side of the stands, as another, cloaked one made its way across the ring towards Andro.
Chan, watching this, frowned. Somehow, the person in the ring seemed familiar. It was something in the walk, or the stride. Maybe he'd seen that person in school or something…
Andro, for his own part, faced his opponent, as calm as always. He spoke, in a low voice that cut straight through the clamor.
"And you are?"
There was a whirl of cloth, and the sounds of the cheap material tearing. The cloak was shredded, to reveal a familiar face.
"CLAIRE?"
************
"Claire?"
"Claire?"
"Who's Claire? Ouch!"
"Our classmate, dumbass. Who'd you think she was?"
"I dunno…"
************
For once, even Andro's legendary composure was shaken. He simply hadn't expected one of his old classmates to be here.
"Claire, what in hell are you doing? This is a fight, for God's sake!"
The girl tilted her head to one side, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
"Why, I'm your opponent, of course! Some of us signed up for the tournament too, you know! See, Karmen and I decided to try our hand at it, after seeing you guys. If people like you won it, we should have no problems."
Andro shook his head.
"God, I can't believe this. Why are you on NESTS's payroll?"
"Well, there was actually no way we would've been able to win. NESTS provided us with weaponry, and two powerful fighters for help. And if we defeat you, we get a bonus…And we can keep the items. Aren't they nice?"
Claire sounded almost…happy.
Andro took a fighting stance. His blades sprouted from his hands.
"Well, no more talking. Let's just fight."
"We shall."
They charged.
************
Chan shook his head.
"I can't believe this. Our classmates? Who would've even thought of it?"
"Yeah, well. Maybe they were running out of ideas? You know, after their best creations having their asses kicked by us, they couldn't think of anything else?"
Jiazheng took the chance to chip in.
"Could it just be coincidence, guys? They might not be out to get you."
The other two glared at him.
"Just kidding."
************
The fight was moving at an incredible pace, as the two fighters blurred back and forth across the arena, running flat-out. Needles and blades flew back and forth, as Claire and Andro tried to find some way to hit the other. It was a game of tag, playing chicken at insane speeds. Both leapt, spun, and dodged to best of their ability, neither quite managing to hit the other.
Just a bit faster than Andro, Claire came straight down, dropping from above like a rock. Her hands clutched her needles, as she came in fast, too fast-
-and Andro kicked out with all his strength, boosting her up and over his head.
He spun, blades thudding into the wall where Claire-
-Had been.
The crowd oohed, as a fast punch nailed Andro, sending him sprawling back. He dropped and slid forward in a sliding kick. Claire leapt straight over it, tagging Andro in the face with another kick as she did. The girl ducked impossibly low, dodging the return blade-fire that scythed above her head.
The fight didn't seem to be going well for Andro. No matter how fast he was, Claire was just a bit faster than him. He got to his feet, panting for breath.
"How…How can you be…So fast?"
With a cheerful smile, Claire pointed at her outfit: And in particular, the strange circuitry pattern lining the suit.
"See this? It compensates for my opponent's ability. No matter how fast one is, I can always go just a bit faster, and strike just a bit harder. Currently, it's set to fifty percent. However, if I crank it all the way up…"
She twisted a dial, somewhere on her wrist. An ominous hum of machinery began.
"Let's see if you can keep up with me now."
And then Claire moved.
A moment ago, she had been standing still. The next, she had nailed Andro's stomach, with a punch that lifted him into the air. The assassin flew back, like a shot from a cannon. Legs twisting, he skidded to a stop, landing clumsily on both feet.
Andro coughed into his gloved hand, wiping a thin trickle of red liquid from his mouth. The response from the audience was incredible, as they slowly came to the conclusion that, Andro, victor of countless fights, was at the mercy of a novice.
************
The others watched the fight intently, retaining a white-knuckled grip on their armrests. They spoke in low, muttered tones, as if fearful of someone overhearing them. Jiazheng looked ready to leap in at any moment, Striker Action or not.
"Chan, I think I should intervene now."
"No."
Chan shook his head empathically, making his point as clear as possible.
"Andro's the best fighter among us, not counting our powers. We probably couldn't do anything to help. Besides, look at that board over there. The Super Gauge isn't full yet. We can't do anything."
"Oh."
Ryan sighed.
"You know, I'm never gonna get used to this. This is a fight, frankly speaking. Why're there these rules?"
"Beats me."
"Well, Andro's a…resourceful person. He'll find some way out of this. I hope."
************
Andro, on the other hand, seemed to have given up the ghost. He stood perfectly still, weapons dangling at his sides. It was as though all the fight had been knocked out of him.
An evil smile spread across Claire's face, as she considered the situation.
"Giving up so soon? What a pity."
Very slowly, she tested the point of a needle with her finger.
"Looks like I'll just put you outta your misery."
She charged again, feet snapping against the hard floor like shears. Andro sidestepped at the last moment, in a final attempt to dodge.
He failed. Three flechettes embedded themselves in his sleeve, evoking a muffled growl of pain. Andro swore, colorfully and sincerely.
"Damn! That stings!"
Claire hadn't escaped unscathed either. Andro's knives had drawn a neat line across her face, drawing serious blood. Face wounds often bled like hell, but were rarely fatal. The girl didn't seem to notice the pain at all. Her eyes glared at Andro, with a strange, sharp light in them.
"All my weapons are poisoned, Andro. In a few moments, you won't be able to move. And then…Then I'll finish you."
For his own part, Andro didn't react at all to this proclamation.
"Paralysis poison, you say?"
Something like mirth spread across his stiffening face.
"That's funny. I used the same poison on my weapons."
"…"
Claire sweatdropped.
Up in the stands, Ryan began to laugh and laugh and laugh.
"(Wheeze)...Now they're both poisoned…(Gasp)"
Very slowly, the two figures below fell over, hitting the floor none-too-gently, with an audible thud.
"DRAW!!!"
A draw. Not the best result, but not too shabby either. The DHS Team vaulted down from the stands, to help lift their comrade back to the waiting ambulance.
************
"Well, looks like it's my turn now, guys."
"Good luck, Chan. Don't end up like Andro."
"That's a…comforting thought."
Chan tightened his gloves, checking the Mage Cannon one last time to make sure it was fully loaded. The rune-carved weapon seemed to glow with a faint aura, pulsing with a life of its own.
Satisfied, the young man flipped it in the air, caught it, and vaulted over the stands, straight into the ring. From the other side, someone else did likewise, striding towards the centre.
Chan felt a strange vibe in the air, as he detected someone else with power…Power like his very own. Whoever was coming to meet him was also a Stand-wielder.
But if he felt fear, he did a good job of hiding it. Neither combatant slowed, or even turned aside as they approached.
Finally, the two came almost face-to-face.
A tall man in a red jacket stared right back at him. He bowed, a mere inclination of the head, assessing Chan as he did.
Finally, the man spoke, in a flat, dead voice.
"I am Alvin, wielder of the Stand, Macabre. I serve NESTS Cartel."
Chan aped the motion, and went through with the formal reply.
"I am Chan, wielder of World-Eater Requiem. I serve no master."
A brief moment of silence, as both composed themselves for the violence that would follow. Alvin broke the silence, his voice like the sound of metal on metal.
"I challenge you."
"I accept."
Things began to happen very fast.
************
"FIGHT!!"
The voice came over the loudspeaker, devoid of any life. It shattered the last of the peace in the area, as the battle promptly commenced.
Despite the command, there was a brief pause, as the combatants looked each other over and tried to tell exactly how powerful the other was. They both had senses attuned to the mystical, and they made full use of them.
Chan didn't like what he saw in Alvin. The man was like a power vacuum, drawing in all the life around him, and bringing forth only death. He was completely calm and poised, ready to move at any moment.
Unknown to Chan, Alvin had also scanned him, and was equally perturbed. The young man was like a sun gone nova, with wild tracers of formless energy rocketing off in all directions. Every now and then, a wave of azure light would roll over his aura, bringing calm- Moments before the cycle began anew.
Chan made the first move, the Mage Cannon appearing in his hands in a blur of motion. He fired three times, backing away as he did. The boy had utterly no desire to face Alvin on his own terms.
True to form, he wasn't far wrong.
Alvin had expected him to close for combat, and was taken aback by the instant evasion. His eyes widened, as he saw the projectiles whistling towards him.
Time slowed.
Alvin bent backwards, impossibly low. The first bullet drifted overhead almost lazily, snipping off a stray thread of hair. The second soared past him arm, tracing a thin line of crimson into the air. The third missed completely, aimed too high for any chance at contact.
Without missing a beat, the Stand-wielder straightened up, glaring right back at Chan. If looks could kill…Well…Ugly things would be happening to Chan at around that time.
The teenager, for his own part, stared, mouth agape.
Then, he chuckled.
"I'm gonna fire another clip. Let's see if you can dodge it this time."
Nervous laughter resounded from the audience, as they tried to understand the situation. The gamblers quickly shifted their bets, whispers barely audible beneath the commotion.
True to form, Chan fired again, gun thundering out a triple burst. Alvin dodged the first, but the second round blew a hole through his shoulder, dropping him to the ground in an untidy heap.
"Had enough yet?"
A confident smirk spread across Chan's face, as he reloaded his weapon. Alvin hadn't even laid a finger on him yet. So far, things were looking good.
Slowly, his opponent got to his feet, seemingly ignoring his wounds.
"No. I've barely even began. Macabre? Slay him."
Chan stiffened, taking an involuntary step back, as a twisted, deformed figure rose next to Alvin. It was a mummified corpse wrapped in leather, a walking plague. A single, blood-red eye glared at Chan, insanity evident in that gaze. The rest of the Stand's face had been crudely stitched together with coarse thread, forming a puckering sore across its head.
The thing was covered with leather bands, held on by metal rivets that had been driven all the way through. A constant stream of blood dripped from Macabre, hitting the ground and dissolving in a smooth stream.
Macabre let off a wet, tortured howl, like the scream of one damned. It tilted towards Chan…And charged.
"REQUIEM…PUNCH!!!"
A massive punch promptly met it in the face.
Requiem stood in front of Chan, armored fists outstretched like battering rams. Behind it, the fighter crouched, drawing some small amount of comfort from his guardian. Chan's face was pale with nausea. He looked sick.
"That's…That's your Stand? It's…"
"Horrible?"
Alvin wrapped a loving hand around the figure, caressing it gently. The Stand growled slightly, but made no other response. The eye was hungrily fixed on Chan, like a starving man eyeing a feast.
"Yes, that it is. But it's mine. My very own."
Alvin sounded almost dreamy at the last part, eyes unfocused and drifting. A chill ran down Chan's spine. The man was utterly insane. As if sensing its master's fear, Requiem backed away slightly, growling in a low voice.
"Now. Die. MISERY RAIN!!"
Ever seen Chan doing a backflip? It isn't pretty. Because Stand-wielders generally don't do them, for whatever reason. Or at least, Chan doesn't.
But when choosing between that and death, a crappy roll is a far better choice. And roll Chan did, as a massive volley of metal vines smashed into the floor. They retracted, tugging a sizeable portion of the concrete with them.
Macabre howled, denied. More and more wires lashed out, seeking warm flesh and blood. Chan ducked, wove, and ran for his life, but simply couldn't dodge them all.
"JIAZHENG!!! HELP MEEE!!!!"
The swordsman dove in, landing right in front of Chan, even as the first tentacle approached. There was a flash of green light, and the thing fell, severed. Jiazheng gave his friend a brief thumbs-up, and ran right back to his seat.
So. If Chan was going to win this, he would have to win it by himself.
As Alvin was recovering, Chan struck back, attacking in perfect tandem with his Stand. He aimed each and every attack at Macabre, intending to take out his opponent's main source of attack and defense. From past experience, Chan knew that damage to a Stand would carry over to the wielder, bringing with it pain, agony and other unpleasant side effects. Previously, he had theorized that the death of the Stand also meant the death of the user, but he had utterly no desire to find out whether he was correct.
"STAND CRASH ASSAULT!!!"
Requiem assaulted Macabre with a countless number of high-speed strikes, hands lashing out like axe blades. Giggling insanely, Macabre dodged again and again, somehow avoiding each and every blow. The thing giggled like a schoolgirl, capering insanely back and forth. Frustration growing, Chan flung a force bolt at it, but missed completely.
Once more, the damnable wires lashed out, stopped at the last moment by Requiem's shield. Snarling, Chan smashed them back with its sharp edge, wielding it as weapon and defense at once. Alvin was incredibly experience, far better at control than he should have been. Chan had much more raw power, but had to struggle to do anything with it. Alvin moved like a master, manipulating his Stand like an extra arm or two. Normally, Chan would've been thrilled to learn from someone better than him. Right now, he was just annoyed.
"I know what you're doing."
Alvin was once again behind Macabre, idly cleaning his fingernails with a short-bladed knife.
"You want to destroy my power, don't you? Give it up. Macabre has no weaknesses."
He punctuated the comment with a solid blast of black light, that took Requiem right in the face. Chan swore, as pain flooded into him through the link. Summoning up his will, he forced the attack away, even as the blood vessels in his nose and throat reopened.
The audience booed. To them, the two were standing stock-still, and letting their puppets do the fighting for them. They didn't want to see that. They wanted action.
"LESS DEEP-THOUGHT, MORE ON-SLAUGHTER!!! LESS DEEP-THOUGHT, MORE ON-SLAUGHTER!!!"
They wanted blood.
And, ever the showman, Chan was about to give it to them. His lip was bleeding, where he had bitten right through. Chan spat once, spitting away the sour taste of blood. It was a damn good thing he hadn't bitten right through his tongue.
The fighter wiped his mouth, and flicked the single drop at Alvin, gripping the Mage Cannon tightly. Time to play it up. "Thirsty? That's all you'll get today."
Alvin smirked. Macabre advanced, in perfect tempo with its owner. Both fighters began to close in on Chan, slowly but surely driving him to the back of the arena. Chan was content with a slow, measured strategic advance to the rear. He was NOT running away! He was NOT!
"Overconfidence. Always a sign of inferiority. Soon, you'll regret you wasted that precious drop."
Unable to take it any more, Chan fired from the hip, fanning his Magnum like a professional gunslinger. He watched in terrified astonishment, as Macabre caught the white-hot rounds like slowly-tossed tennis ball, casually passing them to one side. Alvin raised his hands, metal wires sprouting from somewhere in his sleeve. Evidently, he shared something of his Stand's powers. That too was new.
"Just surrender, Chan. I'll make it quick. You deserve that much, at least."
The teenager didn't dignify the statement with an answer. Instead, he shoved the Mage Cannon back into its holster. His hands burst into blue flame, casting long shadows along the ground.
"No more props. I'm just gonna have to do this the hard way."
As Chan spoke, Requiem began to change. The Stand's right hand altered subtly, a single long spike growing from the limb. The other
"BURNING…"
The weapon swung into an attack position. Chan began to run, streamers of azure light following him, as the wind tugged at his clothes. Alvin braced for the attack, his vines splaying out as a shield. His Stand shifted right in front of him, giggling insanely, and likewise ready for the final clash.
"RAVE!!!"
Impact.
Macabre took the spike right through the stomach. It was sent flying away, still impaled. Alvin swore, and struck back with all his might. His wires came down on Chan's arms hard, raising bleeding welts where they touched. Shutting off the pain, Chan smashed his fist into the man's head. Bone gave under that blow, and Alvin staggered back, somehow getting in a kick to the gut. Both tried to get back up. Each wanted to kill the other, but it was all they could do not to retch.
Chan fell, his arms screaming at him. Alvin did likewise, struggling to his feet.
"Damn you…"
Alvin raised his hands, fingers splayed together in a casting position. A black ball of corruption tore through the air, speeding right towards his opponent.
Chan saw the approaching strike. He leapt back, tossing away his cumbersome trenchcoat as he did. Only one thing would turn the fight now…
"THE WORLD!!!"
Then he was gone, stepping into the gaps between time.
************
Warily, Alvin turned, attempting to look in all directions at once. He had to call back Macabre. It would require several days to recover from its beating, but would eventually be as good as new-Assuming Alvin himself survived this. The damn coat slowly fluttered to the ground, where his opponent had stood. Alvin seriously considered ripping apart, but quickly set the thought aside in favor of more important matters.
There wasn't anywhere for Chan to hide. He wasn't anywhere directly in front of Alvin. But that meant…He was somewhere-
-Behind him.
Even as Alvin spun, he knew he was too late.
"WORLD-BREAKER!!!"
Everything went white.
************
A massive pillar of light burst into existence, right in the center of the ring. Those closest shielded their eyes, gasping in pain. Ryan and Jiazheng squinted into the brightness, wondering who was still alive.
The pillar faded, leaving a massive cloud of dust in its wake. Murmurs broke out in the seats once more, as the money-minded viewers wondered what this meant for their bets.
From somewhere within the cloud, the steady sounds of footsteps resounded, one at a time. Brief silence descended, as if the world itself held its breath to witness the victor of that titanic clash.
Very slowly, Chan emerged, soot smeared all over his clothing and face. He held his once-white trenchcoat in one hand, clutched in a white-knuckled grip. The other one dragged the unconscious Alvin along by the collar, none-too-gently.
In a smooth motion, Chan let go of his rival, letting the man's head hit the floor, with a rather loud thud. Then, he waved to the audience, and performed a practiced bow.
************
"Well, that's just like Chan."
Ryan chuckled, smoothing his hair back. That final move had been something Chan called the "World-Breaker", which discharged what remained of Chan's might into his opponent's body. It hurt like fuck, racked up the points, and was probably one of the visually impressive supers known to man.
Jiazheng blinked, trying to clear the after-image from his retina.
"Ow…He won?"
"Yeah."
"But…The blast…How did he do it?"
"How do I control the weather? When you stop wondering about things, Jiazheng, you'll live longer, alright? Just accept it."
"Okay."
The swordsman went quiet again.
"Wait…What's that?"
"A cage? What the hell is that? Why would anyone need a…Sweet Jesus."
************
Chan grimly reloaded his weapon, physically and mentally preparing himself for the last member of the pseudo-DHS Team. He was severely weakened already, but still had a good fight left in him. There was no way he would just roll over and die…
These thoughts flew from his head, as a massive steel cage was lowered into the ring, hoisted by a miniature crane. Something waited inside. An involuntary shudder wracked his spine, as he glimpsed the massive, hulking form inside the container.
Chan honestly didn't want to know what was inside. But as the massive metal cage came closer and closer to the ground, he knew he soon would, like it or not.
************
"…AND THE FINAL FIGHTER OF THE SECTION…THE CARTEL TEAM'S GREATEST CREATION…THE INVINCIBLE…THE UNSTOPPABLE… YIMING!!!!"
"Uh…Yiming?"
"What kind of name is that?"
"Hey, I've heard weirder ones. Like that guy…Kept on calling himself 'Kay Dash'. I mean, that's just a letter and a punctuation mark. His parents must've really hated him."
Jiazheng shot his friend an odd look.
"You know, someday, you'll have to tell me what really happened last year."
"Okay. But you're buying the drinks."
Jiazheng groaned.
************
The cage was cut free from its mountings, dropping the last five feet in free-fall. There was a thunderous crash as it struck the ruined floor, wrecking it even further.
Chan took a cautious step back, as, very slowly, the steel bars began to bend. Massive, gauntleted hands fixed onto them, tearing a sizeable hole through, as they gave way like tissue paper.
The thick, ponderous steps of someone who was huge began to resound through the area, each step deliberate and thundering.
Guy must weigh a ton, and tell me that wasn't metal being torn apart-
Chan shot a look at the stands, suddenly envying his classmates, who were relatively safe in their comfortable seats. His instincts were all telling him to run, his brain reminding him it was a dead end, his body happily staying out of the discussion-
-As the biggest man he'd ever seen stepped into view, silhouetted by the bright midday sun. He was dressed in a long, army-green overcoat, that somehow only accented his size. The… thing was built like a wrestler: Taller, but with proportionate bulk.
Though Chan couldn't see any weapons, he somehow knew, in his heart of hearts, that his opponent didn't need one. He could just barely make out a craggy, handsome face, with short-cropped hair…And fists the size of his head, already raised for the inevitable assault…
Fire! Shoot him!
Chan squeezed the trigger once, twice, two times, and saw the impact- A neat hole punched in the uniform, the second burrowing into Yiming's leg-
-and the monster took another step, not a single facial muscle moving. His legs took long, slow strides, as he advanced-
The black holes weren't bleeding.
SHIT !!!!
Chan shifted his aim, pointing his weapon directly at Yiming's heart. His fingers convulsively yanked on the trigger, as the giant took step after step into the stream of fire-
Clickclickclickclickclick
-The chamber ran dry, his mind screaming at him to fire and god why didn't it die? Chan fumbled with new rounds, his once-smooth motions becoming jerky and hurried in his haste-
-And Yiming was right in front of him, hands reaching out to grasp his throat. Chan realized that this was going to hurt.
"REQUIEM…PUNCH!!!"
Nothing. No spectral fist, no burst of force. Nothing.
Then Yiming's hands closed around Chan's neck, and there was no time left to think.
************
.
"EINS!!!"
The man's massive skull smashed into Chan's. If not for his innate regeneration, and resistance to injury, Chan would've passed out instantly. Unfortunately for him, he didn't, somehow remaining conscious for the rest of the pounding.
"ZWEI!!!"
A brutal armdrag followed, with the titanic hulk dragging his victim along the ground, face digging into the hard concrete.
"DREI!!!"
A rolling German Suplex.
"VIER!!!"
And still the merciless count continued. Yiming dealt out more pain with a Running Bear Slam, though his victim was already in too much pain to notice it.
"FUNF!!!"
A leaping German Suplex this time. He truly had no imagination whatsoever. The audience winced at the carnage. Some flinched involuntarily, looking away.
"SECHS!!!"
The man hoisted Chan onto his shoulder, and Powerbombed him, with a well-timed running start. Fortunately, Chan had finally given up the ghost, and was safely off somewhere in dreamland at this point. As such, he barely even felt the big final.
"BUSTA!!!"
Yiming leapt, grabbing Chan by the legs. He came down, at top speed…And then tripped, involuntarily losing his balance, as someone tackled him, snatching Chan's form from his arms.
The man's head turned, to view the one who had stopped him…
************
Ryan, the last remaining member of the team, stood right in front of Yiming. He gently set Chan down, motioning for the ambulance attendants to take him away. Somewhere behind him, the crowd cheered their hero on, shouting down the objections of the referee. His opponent's eyes flashed evil death at him, but he made no move.
Despite his calm, purposeful motions, Ryan's face was a pasty shade of white, as he considered the titanic battle ahead of him. To make things worse, the other team still had not used their Striker, adding yet another unknown quality to the equation.
The monster stood stock-still, his eyes fixed on something only he could see. If Ryan hadn't seen him in action mere moments ago, he would've sworn he was about to do battle with a statue.
Slowly, the youth ran through his warming-up katas, loosening up his muscles, and focusing his mind for the fight that would soon follow.
"FIGHT!!"
As the synthesized voice bellowed the command, Ryan sprang into action. He ran forward, winding up for a massive kick to slam his opponent into the wall, followed by the obligatory air combo.
Ryan had practiced this move many times before, on countless training dummies. Always, it had worked perfectly. But now…
Yiming took the kick in the chest. He moved about two inches. And that was all.
Ryan rebounded from his strike, wobbling on his suddenly unsteady leg. That had been like kicking a stone wall! He swore, readjusting his stance to compensate. There HAD to be something that could hurt the other guy…
Then, he saw something that crushed the last of his hope.
His opponent reached into a pouch on his belt, withdrawing a small metal orb. Even as Ryan watched, it began to glow. And then shit happened.
Every loose shard of stone, from all around the shattered battlefield, took flight, heading straight towards the juggernaut. There was a brief, stinging rain, one that forced Ryan to cover his eyes.
And then…Yiming was encased in stone armor. The shards had been attracted to him, by some devilish means Ryan didn't even want to think about. The already-massive man was now even bigger, his bulk supplemented by an extra layer of protection. Eyeing the razor-sharp spines and outcroppings, Ryan realized that this armor was both shield and weapon at once: A potent combination.
"And now…You lose."
A pair of red-glowing eyes emerged from somewhere within that craggy armor, as the golem began to move.
"Holy…"
Ryan stared.
"WAVE CANNON!"
Nothing. He felt the elemental energy being pulled away from him, into the shadowy figure still in the stands…
GET DOWN!!!
A massive thunderbolt ripped from the seats, tearing right past Ryan's head. A feminine voice said several unfeminine things, as the misaimed power struck the much-abused wall.
"Wait…Karmen?"
Damnit to hell! Another of his classmates was somewhere on that bench!
The girl's voice continued, without much pause.
"YIMING, YOU BIG LUG!!! KILL HIM! NOW!!!"
That didn't sound like the Karmen he knew. Still that wasn't really important. Ryan was going to try not to die. Everything else came secondary. He turned back to fight, with a vengeance. A thin sheen of force coalesced around Ryan's arms, as he charged up in the only way he knew how. Thus augmented, he charged, fists pounding away at his foe.
He was promptly caught, and slammed to the floor.
"Get up."
The man's voice echoed from somewhere within his protection, distorted and warped by the stone. With a defiant snarl, Ryan turned a fancy backflip, rolling back to his feet in a blur of motion.
Ten seconds later, he wondered if his skull had just been fractured as he finally crashed back into the ground. In the previous moments he had been kicked, thrown into the air, uppercutted, and set on fire. Wait, no, not set on fire, that was just his spine acting up. Despite the beating and subsequent hard fall he'd just taken, Ryan wasted no time in regaining his footing again, being far more careful this time.
Yiming wouldn't waste time in gloating over a fallen opponent, and Ryan had no intention of letting himself be pummeled into submission.
Not that he didn't try. The monster attacked with a will, cautiously picking his targets in order to sneak past Ryan's prodigious defenses. Ryan was a poseur in the fighting ring, but for the most part, he was able to neutralize Yiming's offensive, but any attempt to counter was punished. Severely.
In the space of several seconds, Ryan got his arms slashed open, and was limping from repeated abuse to his wounded leg. So far, he'd been able to dodge the larger man's grasp, but knew that he wasn't going to be lucky much longer.
Nothing he did could hurt the titan. Wave Cannons, Lawless Oceans, Water Slashes…All to no avail. Everything simply bounced off, or was dismissed as unimportant. A thin line of blood was running into Ryan's eyes, partially blinding him. He shook his head, tossing the stray droplets away. Ryan's legs, arms and side were on fire, and his breathing was labored and ragged. He couldn't go on much longer.
"BASTARD!!! YOU'RE LOOKING FOR DEATH!!!"
Ryan lunged, striking his opponent in the face with one Damn Powerful Leaping punch. Stone and bone gave way under the strike, as the titan staggered away, hands clutching at his face. Ryan grinned. It could be hurt!
Then Yiming punched him back.
The strength behind the blow was incredible. Ryan was sent into the air, blasted backwards at a incredible rate. He hit the ground hard, barely catching himself on his hands and knees. Ryan coughed wetly, spitting out a gobbet of blood. He winced. Everything on the right side of him chest felt broken, and he was sure he'd heard his ribs crack.
Furthermore, the weather was beginning to become a distraction. Rain began to pelt the two fighters. Visibility was reduced as water began to cascade down from the sky. The scene was only readily visible when lightning arced across the sky, bathing everything for a moment in a cold white glare.
After the first such bolt, Ryan grinned to himself. He now had an ace up his sleeve, and he intended to utilize it to his utmost benefit.
After a short combo series from Yiming, just as the storm began in earnest, Ryan took a chance and stepped back, then shadowjumped over the spiked punch his opponent threw in pursuit. He made a perfect landing behind the man.
Yiming spun around too quickly for Ryan to close in and grab or strike him, but that was fine with him. Ryan had all the time he needed to raise his arms and bring them back down.
"STORM OF VENEGANCE!!!!"
The clouds rumbled, the wind swirled, and Yiming spared a glance into the sky just as the bolts of electricity descended in the upgraded version of Ryan's Raging Storm. To Yiming's credit, he *almost* got out of range.
Rock armor or not, there was enough electricity in that strike to power a city for years.
************
Ryan raised both hands to the sky, basking in his victory. His leg hurt like hell, but it was a small price to pay.
Cautiously, he cast a glance at the opposite seats. No one was there. Apparently, Karmen had done a fast fade, running for it the moment her champion had gone down.
A grim smile spread across his face, as he listened to the roar of the crowd's adulation. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he wondered how many more fights like these his friends would have to face before this was over.
Silently, he dismissed those worrying thoughts. Ryan adopted his classic victory pose, waving to the fans. Cautiously, he toed Yiming's body, wondering whether his opponent was truly out. Whatever it was, the big man wasn't getting back up for some time, at least.
Personally, he didn't care. It just gave him more time to pose for the victorious crowd. He barely noticed when his knees buckled under him, spilling him to the hard floor. And then, there was only darkness…And the wail of the ambulance's sirens.
(Whew. Chapter 2 is finally finished, sorry for the long wait. The last fight was a bit rushed, and I'm truly sorry I couldn't flesh it out more. Still, it's over. And now for the interlude. As you can see, despite several new powers, the DHS team is now…weaker, n a way. Notice how Chan's opponents shrugged off the Mage Cannon? Believe me, it only get worse from here on. Anyway, this is the updated version of Chapter 2, with several of the rougher points smoothened over.)