Speech = ``…..´´

Thoughts = [… …]

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...What happens when an unstoppable force collides with a very movable force? Simple annihilation...

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He hated this…

He...he definitely hatted this…

The thought of combat and battle against a final and worthy foe having stirred up feelings long buried under centuries of boredom had reawakened in full, pumping his ancient veins with a never ending wave of stimuli that pushed him to even greater heights of battle prowess.

His body was like an old, but well oil machine that was been put out from whatever dark corner it had been drop of coming back to life. The more time it went on his muscle memory and body became one with each other, regaining faculties he had thought lost, but had only remained hidden until the time came for him to unravel his full potential once more.

The things he could do now, the feats he could perform, would have shamed his younger self.

He should have been pleased…

He should have been grateful for having the chance to not just toy with his prey, but actually enjoy the battle.

He should….

Yet whatever joy he had felt at first had slowly wilted away like the petals of a rose under the winds of winter, chip down by the ever growing weight of bitterness and annoyance as he was DENIED time and time again the sound of his foes flesh breaking down.

Of feeling his blood spurt out from the wound that would give him death and stain his face with its warmth.

To hear his voice..!

But he was denied.

He, the nightmare of Midgar, the terror of the night, the greatest of killers that had ever walked the soil of this world…was denied.

Like a small child trying to push mountains with his fists, an idiot trying to hold the ocean between his fingers.

His sweat trailed down his glistening skin, mixing with the trails of blood already staining his face in the process before falling down to the ground as Fenrir bit down his lip, quelling down a grunt of agony when he parried away a slash that would have left him a head smaller than before.

He had fought for almost a thousand years, he had been honed in the fires of dozes of wars, even now keeping him sharp and on his feet.

He had killed thousands of men in any battle…

But this man.., no, this thing was nothing like he had ever faced before.

His eyes hurt from the amount of rapid movement they had been making, his skin and bones ached terribly from the heat of a million and one close calls, his muscles bled with passing second, straining even his healing magic to the point that he could not keep his arms from trembling ever so slightly.

He was being pushed, he was being drawn to his limit…, while his foe appeared to be even now holding back!

``Curse you..!´´

He screamed at the man, dashing to the left, then the right before once more turning to the left in an attempt to confuse his foe and slash at the towering figure clad in black with his blade. Bright red lightning sparling through it all with the swing of his blade, lancing through the deep darkness that had shrouded the capital and tearing through the howling winds and the rainstorm that brushed against him from all sides.

The green eyed Killer had to keep his eyes half lidded to dim the brilliance of the clash that resulted as once again, that monstrous scythe had appeared from nowhere and come between him and his target.

Crimson radiance smashing like a bloody solar flare against the bristling dark purple crackle of cold, unstable energy wrapped around the massive scythes length.

Their exchange was as bright as a searing lightning bolt landing on his very face, spams of energy tearing through roofs and the upper floors from multiple buildings if not by the explosive wave of magic alone, then by the shock-wave that followed.

Their fight having taken then far away from their original meeting position form the academy that had almost crumbled under the weight of their attacks to the streets of the capital. The speed of their battle making their forms become nothing but blurs in the eyes of frail mortals if not down right invisible as they tore through the infrastructure as if it was made out of paper.

Walls, roofs, basements, the very streets...they were not safe from becoming their battleground.

Their feet shifting position as much as they changed from their angle towards the pull of gravity.

No one would have been able to keep him like this for this long..., even with him outperforming his own expectations, drawing the magic inside and outside him into his strikes and empowering his swings.

And yet the skull masked beast still contended, the large man, steel booted feet digging through across debris and dust layered ground from a myriad of tiles that had become nothing but a wayward memory from existence one moment, before the next they were slamming against him, hitting the air between them and then slamming with the force of a battering ram against his guts.

Yes..

He assumed that his foe was doing the same like him, just better...

He felt blood hose out from his nose and lips as he curled and pushed himself to block the unrepentant, unrelenting descend of that murderous glint from the scythe that searched once more for his soul.

Then a thousand more cuts followed that one, pushing him back, throwing his body to the side like a rag-doll as he tried to cling to bitter life.

He could barely attack at all, to do so was suicide.

He was quicker than him, stronger than him, and perhaps...better than him. Forcing him to shore up his defences, to move faster and faster if not to fight back, then to gain a few more extra seconds to try to think something.

Yet his foe adapted to him at the millisecond. The bear of a man moving so swiftly and fast that would have disoriented even the strongest among the cult. Staving off his attacks again and again and again and making sure that each and every bone inside his body wobbled and shook with each brutal strike.

He lunged forward, trying to pierce the bastards chest, but he only felt a chunk of his stomach fly away when those sharp talons punched and dug into the side of his body.

He slammed his leg into the side of his head, channelling his pain and a quarter of his energy into the attack, one that could have disintegrated a monstrous beast skull was brushed aside to the side with insulting when a bullet the size of his head smashed against his limb.

Charred flesh and blood flew away into the air as it exploded violently…, exposing the bone below as the shock-wave and shrapnel tore through him, violently and sparkling the air with the invisible wave of agony.

But holding down if just barely as what little muscles clung to the brutalized limb fought to meld the gushing wound.

Another blow there would have severed the foot for good, and perhaps, part of his leg with as-well which would have meant his end here and there.

Thankfully the explosion of the detonation had pushed the affected part of his body away from further damage. Perhaps even prompting the change to lunge forward with a strike of his own now that the scythe was changing hands.

Sadly, his right arm was exposed to the waiting boulder breaking fist that tore it almost out from its hinges. Threads of muscles snapped out in an instant, while the furthest part of his collarbone turned to dust between the bludgeoned flesh. Even some of his ribs broke down and dug inside him by the mere rippling effect.

There was no need to say that he was sent out flying.

He bit down his lip as he tried to land on the ground, eyes bulging almost from their sockets through the whole process until he did touch the ground, albeit with his bad foot and after leaving a man sized avenue of holes between him and the nine chimney that had been on the way of his unintended flight practice.

Holes that grew larger if not down right disappeared as the black towering beast sped through their weakened remains like an unrelenting train of PAIN without any brakes..

Damn him and damn his nonsensical, inexplicable powers that were locking him in this never ending chain of FAILURE..!

If he pushed harder, then even more force would be sent his way.

If he speeded things up, he was there before he even could notice him..like a dark shadow that was already waiting before even the beams of the sun could reach it.

He could barely defend…, after all, could this mess of random, desperate swings and movements even be called that?

And when he could do more than that? It felt like he was given the chance to do so, that the opening was nothing but a mirage for him to drank himself in and his hopes to crumble when he attempted to use it and failed when the blind was lifted from his eyes time and time again.

The pain of his body being mauled was something he had believed to be used to by now.., but the sensation of having it rebuilt time and time again in such little spam of time and against such level of brutality he was being subjected to was burning him down like a candle being light up from both ends before throwing it into a god damn pit filled with lava.

Melting his nerves, tearing through his mind as he felt both his limbs and the phantom pains from where chunks of flesh or limbs had been severed before and regrown in the spam of a few seconds.

Sometimes he felt that the sword under his grip was being held by a hand not his own. Sometimes he did not know if he had hands any-more as their touch became alien, anathema to his very cognitive senses...

Before he would have laughed at such claim, now he could only nod bitterly at the grim realization.

He was becoming a stranger to his own body.

CLANG..CRAAAAACCCK..!

The violet mist of death emanating from the scythe hummed ghastly as it sped towards him through the air at the small, diminutive gap in his stance with a speed that challenged his sanity.

Here, in that very moment the fight would end.

It should have…

But he refused to fall, summoning four of his extra blades to warp behind him and strike along side him against the lethal blow.

He could barely dent it, the blow making his organs rattle and gush out blood as tremors started to dig deep inside hi His teeth biting into his tongue and severing it, his eardrums bursting at the same time, blood flowing freely down the line while his eyes grew bloodshot after veins popped out one after the other..

But he did not die, he managed to redirect it at least a bit to the side where it cut down the upper floors of a house in half.

Using the dust and debris falling around he jumped backwards, landing over one of the sliding rocks before rapidly jumping up over the falling building towards a different avenue.

But even then he was not safe as he barely dodged and more likely eat a blow to his stomach in the form of flaming chains with a massive scythe tied up and its very end, like a ship that had thrown the anchor the chains rattled and burn his chest before the big metal head slammed and tore through his torso with the full force of a ship steam-rolling right on top of him.

And a little more behind, swinging up in the air was the dark, towering figure of the monster who had jumped after him and slamming down just where he had been laying over.

Against all odds of reality and probably, defying the comprehension of both mundane and divine... the ground did not break under its feet when he landed like a brick. Something that if had happened would have granted him a few more seconds of reprieve...though it did cracked with visible spiderwebs through its surface.

Such luck…

He call it bullshit.

``B-bastard…!´´

He spatted with anger alongside another glob of fresh blood that slipped down bloodied and broken teeth, barely wiped away form his chin by the back of his hand or the storm raining over him.

A parody of a cleansing..

His face creased. He knew that he could not win this way, but he was not given any time to push himself away from this path of self immolation.

He really hated this….

He had no more time to waste in meagre pondering, such was the speed and tenacity of his foe.

Another second wasted in that regard and he would not have been able to dig his feet into the ground and bellow out a roar of exertion as he met once again the razor sharp edge that seemed to follow his neck without pause...

CLANG...Crack.!

The thunderous clash between their weapons reached once again his ears, hurting them while the tremors tore a hole in the storm for a few brief seconds, yet that was ignored as the back side of his own blade had been pushed into his shoulder, cutting through deeply. His hold unable to keep it steady enough from slamming against him against such RAW power..

He really hated how he was messing with him with just one hand at a time, never using the two simultaneously.

It could have been attributed to lack of skill to pull through that, but after all this time he had not even landed a hit on it, so it would probably not be that.

What would happen when he added the other to commit to the effort..?

He could dread the moments he had before that time came.

He needed the pills….

He needed them, if not to win then to survive.

He summoned the last three extra blades, now adding eight to the already five under his control. Just in the nick of time to dodge deaths grasp as it came swinging, hard.., in an overpowering downwards chop.

Fenrir tried to grab the strike as much as he could, digging his feet into the ground, sweat sliding down his creased face though lost in the storm bathing him, the lethal light show trapped on the sparking surface of his own energetic blades burning his corneas into a distant memory, but not once he bulged.

Groaning again and even more loudly, face tensed as he tried to push back. Redirecting two of the blades to fly and attack his from the flanks.

Only to realize three terrible revelations to come down, one after the other..

The cracks forming around where the blades had collided and still fought with the slab of purple miasma that now appeared to be pushing with even greater force than before, threatening to speed up the damage.

The lost of control over his two other blades at the worst of times as an invisible barrier pushed away his two blades away from their target, like the howling winds of a hurricane that were exerting their full power and pushing them away before they were sent flying out from his sight, and then back into his legs.

Piercing them and spreading that blasphemous corruption now that their forms were wrapped around thin threads of purple like that of a puppeteer, the length of the blades becoming rusted and damaged like they had been subjected to a voracious plague, yet they never felt more threatening.

Or the fact that the ground just then, just in that very moment decided to gave up and crumble under their feet.

Making the two descend onto the streets below.

Still fighting..

Still trying to kill the other.., but only one of them was bleeding out all over the air and ground.

Before he even hit the ground the warrior surged through the air like a man sized projectile diving right over him.

He grinded his teeth, gripping the handle of his blade even tighter as his blood mixed with the energy swirling all over the length of his sword, empowering it as he pointed at those glowing eyes of scarlet that had never blinked.

But he did not fire, not yet, not when there was still three seconds before he would reach him before the ground did.

Three…

Two…

He fired before he reached the last second, knowing the futility to do so when he could already breath in death grasp was onto him. The energy swirling through his bloodied and battered arm sparkling at the edge of his blade before it light out from it.

Shading the nigh and darkness around him in red as the small blood-like star flew with a shriek before it slammed into the waiting skull face of his want to be killer.

Bathing the ebony white fleshless mask and then exploding violently.

He smiled, a broken sorry excuse of a smile at the cloud of dust that emanated and hit him from it.

It was not the strongest attack he could do, nor it was the one he was more proud of.…, but it was the first attack that had connected with his foe since they had started this dance.

Then it disappeared as the monster tore through the smoke in the spam of the last second. A monstrous clawed hand stretched out forward.

[Fuck..!]

That was the only thing he could managed to say, even though inside his head before those clawed talons graved his head and smashed him onto the pavement the same way one would pick trash and threw it to the ground in a tantrum.

The air from his lungs disappeared as fast as the cohesion of his bones as they shattered like water balloons. A feat he did not know could be accomplished just like that.

The world became a stain of red and black imprinted deep in his cornea, the buzzing turned wall screeching by a pair of knives growing to irreversible levels of agony inside his head as his skull was tore open literally and metaphorically where it connected with the ground.

Shards of rock stabbing and digging into his scalp while one of his eyes popping out from their socket by the sheer motion of the impact as his body was unable to hold it tightly in place.

But that would not be the end of his worries…, not when his foe appeared to have other ideas about it.

With its iron grip over his head never lessening he pulled him up from the six feet deep crater they had made and then smashed him against the wall of a nearby building, blood and brain matter spilling out from the open cavity of his skull, his life only maintained by a thread by the regeneration power of his magic.

Yet the wall endured its harsh punishment, though not by its own sturdiness…, no, not at all..

The fractured thoughts of his mind were slowed down and numbed slightly by the skull drilling sensations that were coursing through every nerve that he still possessed.

Then it got worse.

He started to run…

Dragging him all the way, uncaring of his cries of pain as his skin started to peel off from his face and adorn the stone, wood and glass he was pressed down onto until the bare bone started to scratch the cool, rough texture of the walls that were left ruined through their march...

He REALLY hated this…..

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It was said that when two celestial bodies collided, damage of the collateral variety was inevitable.

Thus, the destruction that had taken place in the realm of Midgar only seemed fair to have been increased ten fold by the urban free of charge reconstructions efforts of two individuals rather than the terrible storm that threatened to tear trees up by their roots or the continuing conflict that took place between cultists, the undead and those who were meant to protect the peace of the realm.

For the likes of them…, buildings were like clay. Feeble an unimportant in the great matter of things. Just a little poke here and there and they would come undone before their very eyes like a house of cards.

But they did not care for such things when the call for the hunt howled in the air...

There was only one thing that had their unwanted attention in this desolated and turned miserable kingdom and it was to seal the others fate by their own hands.

Though one out of desperation and anger, while the other pure, unadulterated rage at the others sole existence.

Fenrir had come out rather brazen and arrogant, his posture having spoken off volumes of who he was before he had uttered his first word. A man of strength that had yet to find someone to truly test him.

He believed himself the living dead, the blackest terror, the sharpest of blades...

In his own words he was just another man-child playing pretend, unable to fill the shoes he barked about.

But he was even worse than that...

He despised the thought that his efforts during the war had served to spare this wrench, even if such product was merely a coincidence brought by the cruel hands of fate. Always there...taunting him that he had not fully freed himself from is reach.

The rage made him stronger...

Luckily for him, he was more than glad to push his resolve to the brink of insanity, always waiting to see the breaking point, the moment he would snap and the last vestiges of his old self would die before they were swallowed by the most primal instinct and desire to survive.

He had already witnessed how his body had started to cannibalize his mind and bodies reaction to danger when even thinking too long proved detrimental to the man that had swore to kill him. How he tried to push himself forward, how he tried to bring his battered and inferior body to a point that he could compete with his only for him to push the finish line a little further away.

Always on sight, tempting him to continue…

And the fool fell for it every single time.

His mind was breaking even if he did not know it yet, his body as-well…though that was a given with each lovely touch he granted him.

His blade or claws always found their target, his blood stained now his ruined clothes, the scent of copper lingering in the air, the water of the rain mixing with the arterial liquid, leaving behind the appearance of bloody tears smearing down in the process.

Looking back, he could have ended the fight right there and then when he found him, the blood of that inhuman woman still fresh and warm on his bloodstained palms.

It would have been so easy…

But he wanted him to suffer as-well as learn all that there was to learn from someone like him.

His old self coming out at times to try to gauge the capability of the warriors he faced, even if such desire went against the hunger and demands of the chains itching for another soul to be reaped out like the rest.

Now the man that had fought him lay broken in the ground after he dashed through the capital using his head like a mop. The left side of his head now gone, the flesh part at least, showing the skull beneath while the rest of his limbs were left on unconformable positions, clearly not meant for anyone in their right mind..

His chest heaving up and down painfully slow, blood slipping out from his mouth with each pained breath that was more like a struggling gargle..

He only scoffed, he would have spatted down the mans fallen form if he had not a mask on.

[Failure of a man...]

Before he prepared himself to rise rise his scythe above his head and finish it when it appeared Fenrir was not going to stand up any time soon he darted his attention to the side.

Towards those souls that were now mingling around and had, like him taken notice that something was very wrong when two men crashed through half the entire city leaving a path of smeared blood and craters behind if one were to ignore the rumbling sound of hundreds of buildings breaking down and crashing into the ground..

More cultists….

More meat…

The chains started once more to ignite, to claw his arms as they demanded his attention to change his target from the broken, already spent form of Fenrir and feast into the fresh screams of those men that were so willingly showing themselves to him either in their ignorance or intent.

It seemed he and his pawns had missed some after all.

Good.., he was long from done with them yet.

``Oh, god...the master, is that-..´´

``Fuck, everyone gather up..!´´

``Are you crazy? Look at that thing! He is gonna eat us alive!´´

``Fool! There is only one of them and dozens of us. Think what the master would do for us if they learned we saved them on their time of need´´

That seemed to made them consider for a moment before they nodded in agreement, nodding their heads as thoughts of victory and what would happen afterwards flashed inside their unprotected minds.

Those sorry fools...

``For the Cult...!´´

And with that rallying cry, the living came to welcome death into their embrace with smiles in their eyes and hope in their hearts.

None able to hear the silent joke that was made at their own expense as they came closer.

But soon they would…

Very... soon...

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A/N

Here finally comes the next chapter, it took a while but one can not control whether they feel sick or not.

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...One shirt at a time...

Reaper comes to an idea to put Delta and Zeta in a get-along indestructible shirt for a week so that they are bound to interact with the other past petty insults and snarly remarks. Will the two troublemakers make it until the end of the week? Alpha doesn't know, what is sure to happen is that a racket is about to go off...