The space around NME's headquarters was just as crowded and dangerous as Lor's screen had shown. Destroyas filled the void, blocking out any stars and casting the area into an oppressive darkness. The Halberd sputtered, its engines struggling before finally dying, leaving the ship to drift the last hundred meters toward the starship.
As it approached, the tension aboard was palpable. The pair knew well the danger they were getting themselves into and they stood tall in the face of it. The Destroyas loomed closer, their menacing silhouettes an encroaching and impending danger.
The second the Halberd ventured too close, the Destroyas took aim. Several sights centered on the Halberd's ragged frame. In a coordinated attack, they unleashed their fury. Beams of energy and missiles converged on the Halberd, engulfing it in a blinding explosion.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The ship was torn apart, the soundless vacuum of space amplifying the sheer devastation. The Halberd's once proud structure was obliterated, transformed into a cloud of smoldering debris. Shards of metal and tangled wires spun outwards, remnants of the vessel scattering into the void.
The Destroyas scoured the wreckage, their sensors sweeping for any sign of the Knights. The distraction granted Meta and Dark precious seconds to zip between cover, inching their way toward the primary ship. As individuals, they were far too small to be detected—an advantage that required flawless coordination and timing.
Something a duo of Knights could do.
Meta and Dark flew through the void of space on their own wings, hiding beneath the ships or wherever they could reach, searching the tall, sheer walls of the starship for an opening. They didn't have a lot of time to go searching, whatever they found would have to do.
An engineer hatch hung open, conveniently unattended, the lights dim inside. Meta signaled to Dark and dove for it, the shadow following suit. Whether it was a stroke of luck or a deliberate trap was irrelevant—they were inside the ship.
The hatch shut shortly after, a timed mechanism. Meta grimaced and pulled his wings close, retracting them into his dimensional cape as he landed heavily on the metallic floor. Dark nearly blew past him, rolling to a stop and slinking back into the shadows.
"What is it?" Dark asked.
"Ahead," Meta nodded towards the dark clearing at the end of the dimly lit hall. It was ominous, foreboding, and undoubtedly purposeful. "An ambush, surely."
Dark studied the area and frowned. It was an obvious setup. Their adversaries must have thought little of the two Knights to prepare such a blatant trap. But there was no alternative route—the hall was narrow, and the hatch was sealed.
"We've got no other choice. We're in their territory now. We'll just have to work harder to get to the end," Dark said with a heavy sigh.
Meta and Dark steeled their nerves and stepped towards the end of the hall, resolute as they continued forward to the center of the arena. Their heads held high, their hands on their swords, marching in tandem to the center.
Lights flared to life, momentarily blinding them. Tall windows surrounded the room gazing out into the vast space and its glittering, distant lights. Not a Destroya in sight. Scattered in their search possibly. There was no way for the Knights to know. Their eyes took time to adjust.
A single adversary stood at the other end: Arcta Knight.
She looked over the pair, her gaze fixed on Dark with an unsatisfied grumble. Her stare was unnervingly steady, piercing through him.
Dark unsheathed his blade and glared back, standing beside the motionless Meta Knight, a fire burning behind his eyes.
"I have a friend for you, so you won't distract us," Arcta said, her gaze still on Dark. She flicked her wrist, signaling the door behind her to open. Silence hung in the air for a moment before distorted, deep laughter echoed from the area. A long tongue lashed out at Dark.
Dark slashed at it, deflecting the attack as the creature cried out. The force of the blow sent a shudder through the narrow hall, the creature recoiling momentarily before preparing to strike again.
Meta stiffened, recognizing the sound. His eyes widened with urgency. "Don't kill it, Dark. That's one of our own!"
Dark hesitated, his grip tightening on his blade as he took a step back, assessing the situation. "What? But it's hostile!" He glanced at Meta, confusion and frustration mingling in his expression.
The creature lunged again, its long tongue whipping towards Dark with fierce speed. Dark dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike, his blade ready to counter.
Meta's voice was urgent, filled with a mix of command and desperation. "If you can, save him. Break th—!"
Before Meta could finish, the creature's muscle wrapped around Dark, constricting him with a sudden, powerful yank. Dark struggled, his blade slashing at the coils, but the force was too strong. He was pulled into the other room, the door sealing shut just as he was taken away.
Meta clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. She was so adamant to face him alone. Fine. One on one was his preferred method of battle anyway. His eyes locked onto Arcta Knight, the memories of their past encounters, the wound sutured but stinging in his side fueling his resolve.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself as the weight of the confrontation settled in. Every fiber of his being was focused on this moment, on the opponent who had evaded him for so long. The air between them crackled with tension, the silence only broken by the distant echoes of the other battle in the ship.
Meta stepped forward, his voice unwavering. "I won't let you escape me again, Arcta Knight." With a swift, practiced motion, he drew Galaxia from his hip, the blade gleaming with a deadly promise. The sword felt reassuring in his hand, a familiar extension of his will.
"There's nowhere to go now," Arcta said, her tone solemn. She looked out the tall windows, the galaxies beyond their reach. For a moment, the cold, vast expanse of space seemed to reflect the emptiness inside her. She closed her eyes and took a breath, unsheathing her sword.
Meta tightened his grip on Galaxia, watching her closely. "No more tricks, no more running. This ends here."
Arcta nodded, her voice low and resolute. "It will."
Meta braced Galaxia in both hands, his eyes narrowed. There was a second of hesitation in Arcta before she snapped into action, lunging at him with a ferocity that caught him off guard. Her attacks were precise and vicious, each stab aimed at his vitals, each slash targeting his limbs. It was clear she wanted to ensure her attacks were lethal this time.
Meta deflected her blade, stepping back from each advancing move until he reached the edge of the arena. Their swords met, grinding against each other with a screeching of metal and a shower of sparks as they struggled to hold their ground.
Arcta's movements were different, more intense, and her eyes seemed to burn with an unnatural fire. There was something almost otherworldly about her determination, as if driven by a force beyond her own will. Meta noticed this change, feeling a chill run down his spine. This wasn't the Arcta he battled before. Her power, her speed, her resolve were all far stronger than their last encounter. It was an intensity that felt influenced.
He pushed her back with a powerful shove, his wings separating from his dimensional cape and lifting him into the air. Arcta followed suit, her own wings bursting forth in a flurry of feathers as she cast her cape aside. She launched after him, their swords clashing with loud metallic clangs, each strike echoing through the vast chamber.
They danced through the air in a deadly dance, each maneuver more desperate and forceful than the last. Meta's eyes flickered with determination as he parried another fierce strike from Arcta. Her eyes showed an intensity that bordered on madness. The cold, calculating warrior he had encountered seemed overshadowed by something darker and more relentless.
Meta grunted, blocking another of her powerful blows. "What happened to you?"
Arcta's eyes flashed with something unrecognizable, a mix of rage and sorrow. "You don't understand, Meta. This is my fate." She struck again, faster and harder, pushing him to his limits.
Meta gritted his teeth, feeling the strain in his arms as he countered her assault. He had to find a way to break through to her, to understand what had twisted her into this relentless force. But for now, survival was paramount.
He'd curse his need to understand, but he couldn't handle another curse on his shoulders. Not until he had dealt with the first of her unknown identity.
With a sudden burst of speed, he darted to the side, narrowly avoiding a lethal thrust and retaliating with a sweeping slash. Their blades met again, sparks flying as they locked eyes, each determined to see their mission through to the end. The air around them crackled with tension.
Arcta pulled back to strike again and Meta used the motion as an opportunity to quickly slash at her mask. The mask cracked and the slash sent it flying until it landed heavily on the floor in two pieces. She cried out, holding her face and backing away.
"Show me who you are!" Meta barked.
Arcta looked at him through her fingers, she tensed and her hands flexed as she seemingly fought some need to come at him tooth and nail. The struggle resonated through her arms, making the hand gripping her sword tremble until she stopped hiding her face to steady it.
She had deep indigo eyes.