They were going to pass him.
De Nemo realized it before they were close enough for him to see their faces. Four figures tore across the evening sky, cutting through the air so violently that clouds split around them.
They had already crossed half the horizon. None of them slowed. None changed altitude. None even seemed interested in the empty coastline beneath them.
De Nemo stood in the middle of the abandoned road and watched. For a few seconds, he almost found it funny. Then he bent his knees.
The road exploded. Concrete shattered beneath his feet as his body launched upward. Not flight. Pure strength. Pure physical force carried him into the sky like artillery fired from the ground.
The Four were almost over him when he arrived. Dierrera noticed first. His head turned. One hand moved. The air between them compressed.
De Nemo hit something invisible. Not a wall. Something worse. Pressure wrapped around his body from every direction at once, crushing inward. His ascent stopped instantly.
For half a heartbeat he hung there. Then Nemo twisted his torso, planted one foot against nothing but compressed air and drove forward.
Dierrera's eyes narrowed. The pressure field buckled. Nemo broke through. His fist reached Dierrera. Dierrera raised an arm.
BOOM.
The impact detonated through the sky. All four changed direction. For the first time.
Nemo dropped.
He struck the road below hard enough to bury both feet several centimeters into the concrete. Dust rolled around him. Above, the Four remained suspended.
Not moving west anymore. De Nemo slowly pulled one foot free. Then the other. He looked up.
-Well.
He brushed dust from his sleeve.
-That worked.
Broxomos descended first. He landed fifty meters away. The road cracked beneath him.
Then Deighore. Then Emdus. Dierrera came last.
He did not land as heavily as the others. The air seemed to lower him, pressure changing around his body until his feet touched the ground almost without sound.
For a while, nobody spoke. De Nemo looked from one to another.
Four.
Exactly as the reports said. Broxomos looked at the broken road. Then at Nemo. Then back at the road. His mouth slowly twisted into a grin.
-You jumped.
Nemo glanced upward.
-The sky is pretty beautiful today. Isn't it, Amicus?
Broxomos laughed once. Not loudly. More surprised than amused. Dierrera did not.
-Move.
Nemo looked around. The road stretched empty in both directions. Beyond it, fields. Buildings abandoned during evacuation. An entire coastline practically empty. He looked back at Dierrera.
-You've got most of the sky.
Broxomos smiled wider. Emdus stared past Nemo toward the western horizon.
-We are losing time.
Dierrera's attention never left that man.
-You are not part of our purpose here.
De Nemo's expression changed very slightly. There. Not much. But something. Deighore saw it. Nemo reached into one of the pockets of his uniform. Broxomos' shoulders shifted.
Ready.
Nemo pulled out a small packet of painkillers. Broxomos stared. Nemo shook two tablets into his palm. Swallowed them dry. Emdus' face showed the first trace of irritation.
-You interrupted us for medicine?
Nemo folded the packet and put it back.
-No. That was for me.
Emdus took a step. Dierrera raised two fingers. He stopped. Nemo noticed that too. The leader. Useful.
Dierrera spoke.
-You have already accomplished more than most of your kind managed during our previous visit. You forced us to stop.
His voice remained controlled.
-No one will remember that if you force us to stop twice.
De Nemo rubbed his jaw.
-I wasn't planning on writing it down.
Broxomos laughed again. Dierrera did not look at him. His patience had already begun thinning. Nemo could see it. Not from the face. From the pressure.
Pebbles on the road around Dierrera trembled. A thin crack appeared beneath his left foot without him moving. De Nemo looked toward the west. Only briefly.
Then back.
Deighore noticed that too. He had been noticing everything. The way Nemo favored one side after landing. The faint tremor in his fingers. The breath taken slightly too carefully after breaking Dierrera's pressure field.
The fact that the coastline had been emptied. And the fact that Nemo had never once asked who they were. Deighore finally spoke.
-You sent the others away.
Nemo looked at him. Deighore continued.
-The weapons remain. Defensive positions remain. Even some of the targeting systems are still active. But the soldiers have moved inland.
Broxomos glanced around as though noticing for the first time. Deighore's gaze stayed on Nemo.
-You expected us.
-No.
Nemo looked toward the empty artillery positions.
-I expected something unpleasant. You happened to be available.
Broxomos barked a laugh. Deighore did not react.
-You are in pain.
That one stopped the humor. Nemo looked at him. Deighore's eyes moved toward Nemo's left hand. The tremor had returned. Nemo closed his fingers.
-It happens.
Broxomos looked him over properly now. Not as an obstacle. As a body.
The thinness beneath the uniform. The slight hollowness around the face. The posture of someone standing correctly because standing naturally would hurt more. Broxomos' grin slowly changed.
-You're sick.
Nemo said nothing. Broxomos stepped closer.
-That's what I'm smelling.
De Nemo lifted an eyebrow.
-You smell disease?
Broxomos inhaled through his nose dramatically.
-No.
He smiled.
-I smell something dying.
Nemo considered him. Then nodded.
-That's less impressive.
The smile disappeared from Broxomos' face. Emdus turned toward Dierrera.
-Enough.
He looked past Nemo.
-The target is still moving nowhere. We have wasted sufficient time.
Target. Nemo heard it. So did Deighore. And Deighore saw Nemo hear it. Dierrera began turning away. De Nemo spoke.
-Interesting word.
Nobody moved. Nemo looked at Emdus.
-Target.
Emdus' expression remained flat. Nemo continued.
-Not city. Not command. Not army. Target.
Dierrera's eyes hardened. De Nemo looked west again. This time he did not pretend it meant nothing.
-You crossed into a world with billions of people, flew over military positions, ignored every defensive line between that portal and here and kept all four of you together.
He looked back at them.
-Then one old man makes you lose thirty seconds and suddenly everyone's impatient.
Broxomos took another step.
-You enjoy hearing yourself speak.
-No.
Nemo glanced at him.
-I enjoy listening to people who don't realize they're answering me.
That changed something. Small. But real. Emdus' eyes narrowed. Dierrera became completely still. Broxomos stopped smiling. Only Deighore remained almost exactly as he had been.
Watching. Nemo saw it. And smiled faintly.
-He's the dangerous one.
Broxomos turned his head. Deighore did not.
-Why?
Nemo nodded toward him.
-He hasn't tried to prove anything yet.
Broxomos looked offended for perhaps half a second. Then amused.
-You think I need to prove something to you?
Nemo considered the question. Long enough that Broxomos' expression began to change. Then Nemo shrugged.
-You stopped to ask.
Broxomos moved. Dierrera's hand appeared in front of him. Not touching him.
Just there.
Broxomos stopped anyway. Dierrera looked at Nemo.
-You mistake our restraint for interest.
Nemo looked at the hand controlling Broxomos. Then at Dierrera.
-No. I think I'm watching a man trying very hard to keep three other men on schedule.
Emdus' eyes sharpened. Broxomos laughed again. Even Deighore's mouth shifted slightly. Dierrera lowered his hand.
The pressure around them increased. Not enough to attack. Enough to remind everyone whose patience mattered.
-Leave this place.
Nemo did not move. Dierrera's voice became quieter.
-We did not cross realms to fight every creature brave enough to stand in front of us.
De Nemo's gaze stayed on him.
-Sounds exhausting.
-We have killed stronger beings than you because they understood too late that courage does not change difference.
Nemo's expression remained calm. Dierrera continued.
-Your body is deteriorating. Your breathing is inefficient. Your muscles are compensating for internal weakness. You have enough strength to inconvenience us and enough experience to recognize what happens if this becomes a battle.
For the first time, the road was completely silent. Even Broxomos listened. Dierrera pointed west.
-Go back to your people. Spend whatever remains of your life somewhere it has value.
Nemo stared at him. Something in that sentence stayed. Value. Not weakness. Not dying.
Value.
He looked down at his own hands. For a while, nobody spoke. Broxomos became impatient first. Emdus looked toward the horizon again. Deighore waited. Nemo flexed his fingers slowly. When he finally spoke, his voice had changed.
Not louder. Less casual.
-When I was young, I used to keep score.
Broxomos frowned. Nemo continued anyway.
-Not officially. Nobody sat me down with paper and told me to count. But I counted.
He looked at the road between them.
-How many soldiers I could beat. How quickly I could finish a mission. How many people could keep up with me in training. How much stronger I'd become compared to last year. Compared to the man above me. Compared to the man I wanted to be.
A small breath escaped him.
-Soldier Prime was already gone long before my generation ever got the chance to see him. Didn't matter. We had the stories. Young soldiers don't need a man. A story is usually worse.
Broxomos' impatience faded slightly. Nemo looked toward him.
-You chase it. That's the stupid part. You spend years trying to outrun somebody who isn't even there.
He rubbed his thumb against the side of his hand. The tremor had become worse.
-He was my inspiration.
Nemo smiled faintly.
-Inspiration. Standard. Irritation. Depends which year you're asking about.
The smile disappeared.
-And eventually I became that story for somebody else.
Deighore's eyes narrowed. Nemo continued.
-That felt good at first. Of course it did. People look at you differently when they think you've become the strongest thing in the room. They move when you walk through. Young soldiers watch how you train. Officers send you where things have gone bad because they believe your arrival means the bad part is over.
He paused.
-No. That's not right.
His brow tightened.
-They don't believe it.
He looked up.
-They need to believe it.
Nobody interrupted him. Not even Broxomos.
-And that's where you start getting stupid.
Nemo's voice remained steady.
-You confuse being needed with being right. You survive enough battles and people stop telling you about the ones you survived badly. The soldiers who didn't come back. The people you couldn't protect. The times you won the fight and still failed at the thing that mattered.
He looked at Dierrera.
-Strength hides a lot of mistakes when you're young.
Dierrera said nothing. Nemo looked down at his body.
-Then this happens.
He tapped two fingers against his chest. Nothing dramatic. Just once.
-Your body starts collecting debts.
A beat.
-The hand doesn't close as fast. Food tastes wrong. Sleep doesn't fix anything. Doctors start using softer voices around you. People who used to challenge you begin carrying your bag.
His mouth tightened.
-That's when you learn whether you ever understood strength in the first place.
Broxomos finally spoke.
-And what did you learn?
It was not mockery this time. Not entirely. Nemo looked at him. A long time.
-That most of what I was proud of doesn't help me now.
Broxomos smiled. Nemo continued before he could speak.
-And most of what helps me now wasn't strength.
Broxomos' smile faded.
-Experience?
-No.
Nemo thought about it.
-That's part of it.
He looked west.
-Names.
For the first time, something tired entered his face.
-People.
The word came slowly.
-The ones who are still here because somebody stood somewhere unpleasant long enough for them to leave.
Deighore's gaze shifted toward the abandoned defensive positions. Nemo saw him do it.
-There.
He pointed at Deighore.
-You finally caught up.
Broxomos looked between them. Deighore spoke quietly.
-He emptied the coastline before we arrived.
Emdus' expression changed. Dierrera looked back toward the empty road. Deighore continued.
-He did not come here to defeat us.
Nemo raised one finger.
-I wouldn't go that far.
Deighore ignored him.
-He came here because we would stop.
Nobody moved. Then Broxomos slowly turned toward Nemo. The humor was gone. Nemo gave him a tired smile.
-Thirty seconds became what... four minutes?
Deighore looked toward the sky. Far in the distance, OPESTM aircraft were changing routes. Troop movements had shifted. Reinforcement patterns altered. And west of them, somewhere beyond sight, Paul had gained time. Broxomos' jaw tightened.
-You talked to delay us.
Nemo shook his head.
-No. I talked because you kept standing here.
That irritated Broxomos more. Dierrera's pressure suddenly increased. The road sank beneath his feet.
-Nothing further.
He looked at Broxomos.
-You remain.
Then at Deighore.
-With him.
Broxomos' anger disappeared instantly. A grin returned. Bigger than before. Deighore remained still. Dierrera looked toward Emdus.
-We continue.
Emdus nodded once. De Nemo rolled his shoulders.
-No.
Dierrera looked at him. Nemo stepped forward.
-All four of you stopped.
His posture changed. Small adjustment. One foot sliding back. Hands lowering.
Combat.
-It would be rude to leave separately.
Broxomos laughed. Emdus moved first. Not toward Nemo. Past him.
Nemo vanished.
The road detonated where he had been. He appeared in front of Emdus before Emdus had crossed twenty meters. A straight punch. Emdus raised one arm. Nemo's fist struck him. The impact folded the air around them.
Emdus flew backward. For twenty meters. Thirty. Then his body stopped violently in midair as Dierrera compressed the atmosphere behind him.
Nemo did not admire the result. He turned immediately. Pressure slammed into him. His entire body dropped. The road beneath his feet collapsed. Dierrera raised one hand.
The pressure doubled. Nemo's knees bent. His bones screamed. Then Broxomos arrived. Nemo saw the shoulder turn. Too wide. Too committed.
A fighter who trusted the consequences more than the setup. Nemo threw himself sideways. Broxomos' fist missed his head.
Barely.
The impact did not. A multiplied shockwave exploded from the punch. The road vanished. Buildings hundreds of meters away lost windows simultaneously. Nemo was caught at the edge and thrown through the wall of an abandoned structure. Concrete buried him.
Broxomos landed. He smiled. Then the rubble moved. Nemo emerged. Blood ran from one side of his forehead. He looked at Broxomos.
-Hm.
Broxomos' grin widened. Nemo rotated his shoulder once.
-That's annoying.
Broxomos charged. This time Nemo did not retreat. Broxomos swung. Nemo stepped inside the arc before the multiplication fully expressed. His left hand caught Broxomos' forearm. His right elbow drove into the side of Broxomos' throat.
Broxomos' head snapped sideways. Nemo pivoted. Knee into the ribs. Then an open palm under the chin. Three strikes. One breath.
Broxomos was lifted from the ground. Nemo grabbed his wrist before he could fly away, rotated under the arm and slammed the much larger creature into the road.
BOOM.
Broxomos bounced. Deighore entered. Nemo saw him too late. A fist struck his chest. It felt like being hit with a building.
Deighore had hardened his body. Not skin. Everything. Bone. Muscle. Structure.
Nemo flew backward and carved a trench through the road. He rolled once. Twice. Stopped on one knee. Pain tore through his chest.
Something was wrong. Possibly cracked. He breathed in. Worse.
Definitely cracked.
Deighore walked toward him. Nemo stood anyway. Deighore raised his arm. The surface of his body changed subtly.
Denser. Harder.
Nemo watched. Not the arm. The shoulder. The hip. The way the foot loaded before movement. Deighore punched. Nemo slipped outside.
Countered.
His fist struck Deighore's ribs. Pain exploded through Nemo's knuckles. The skin split. Deighore barely moved. Nemo looked at his bleeding hand.
Then at Deighore.
-Alright.
Deighore attacked again. Nemo avoided the fist. Did not punch. Instead he kicked behind Deighore's knee just before the leg fully hardened.
The joint buckled. Deighore dropped half a step. Nemo's elbow hit the side of his head. Deighore slid across the road. Not far. But enough. His eyes changed.
Nemo saw it. Timing. That was the weakness. Not softness. Transition. The body had to alter state. That fraction of a moment was enough.
Nemo moved.
Deighore hardened both arms. Nemo attacked the leg. Deighore adjusted. Nemo had already changed target.
Throat.
Deighore hardened there. Too late. Nemo's knuckles connected. Deighore staggered. Broxomos came from behind. Nemo heard him.
Did not turn.
Waited. One step. Two. Then dropped. Broxomos' multiplied fist passed over Nemo's head and struck Deighore directly in the chest. The explosion threw both Five Leaves apart. Nemo remained crouched between them.
Broxomos stared at Deighore. Deighore stared back. Nemo straightened slowly.
-That's teamwork.
Broxomos roared and charged. This time there was no laughter. Nemo ran toward him. Broxomos punched. Nemo shifted.
The multiplied impact tore apart the ground beside him. Nemo climbed the attack. One foot on Broxomos' forearm. Second on his shoulder. Broxomos' eyes widened. Nemo twisted in the air and drove both heels into Broxomos' face. Broxomos crashed backward.
Nemo landed. His chest seized. For half a second, his body refused to breathe.
He bent forward. Coughed. Blood touched his palm. Deighore saw it. Nemo closed the hand. Too late. Deighore came forward.
Broxomos rose behind him. Both now moving differently. No wasted motion. No amusement. No casual confidence.
Nemo straightened. Across the sky, far to the west, two distant figures disappeared toward Paul's position.
Dierrera and Emdus.
He had failed to keep all four. But he had kept two.
For now.
Broxomos wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.
He looked at it. Then at Nemo. The old man was breathing hard. One hand shaking. Blood on his knuckles. Blood at his lips.
Already in pain before the battle had even begun. Broxomos' face slowly changed. Not anger. Not mockery. Something more dangerous.
Delight.
He rolled his shoulders. Then looked at Deighore. Deighore's body hardened again. This time completely. The road cracked beneath his feet from the change alone. Broxomos turned back toward Nemo.
His fists tightened. The air around them began to distort from the force building inside his arms. De Nemo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at the blood. Then at the two creatures in front of him.
Broxomos smiled. Not casually anymore. Not at an old man. At an opponent.
-Again.
De Nemo lowered his hand. His body hurt everywhere. His chest was damaged. His fingers were trembling. The medicine had done almost nothing.
And somewhere behind those two monsters were people who needed more time. He settled back into his stance.
This time...
he smiled first.
To be continued...