Yuki forced his legs to lock, stopping his knees from buckling. The world was spinning slightly at the edges of his vision. He raised his hands in a guard that felt flimsy, his muscles screaming in protest.
"Yuki."
The voice didn't come from the warehouse. It resonated directly against his skull, cool and digital.
Yuki's eyes widened a fraction. "Kira? I haven't heard from you since I got here. Where have you been?"
"Calculating probabilities. Processing the threat level," the A.I. replied, her tone devoid of the panic that filled the room. "I was busy formulating a path to victory. You cannot beat him in your current state, Yuki. Not with force."
"Tell me something I don't know," Yuki thought back, watching the Prodigy crouch low, the drugs in his system vibrating the air around him.
"The pills," Kira instructed. "The enhancement drug stimulates the Ki network violently. If you can secure them and administer one to Seri, the surge will override the suppressant gas in her blood. It will restore her Kizo—and amplify it."
Yuki's gaze flickered to the Prodigy's pocket, then to the ice dagger in his hand. "That's a suicide mission."
"The probability of survival without this action is 0%," Kira stated. "Prepare yourself."
Yuki didn't look back, but he spoke loud enough for the girl behind him to hear. "Seri. Be prepared for anything."
Seri blinked, confused, but she tightened her grip on Luna.
Across the room, the Prodigy moved.
There was no build-up. One second he was standing there; the next, the air cracked as he broke the sound barrier. He was a blur of grey and violent red energy, closing the gap instantly.
The Prodigy moved past him like a phantom wind. For a split second, time seemed to freeze. Then, the Prodigy skidded to a halt ten feet behind Yuki, his back turned, posing with the arrogance of a man who had already won.
Splurt.
Fresh blood erupted from Yuki's body. Five distinct slash marks appeared simultaneously across his chest, arms, and thighs. His clothes shredded, and his skin split open. He swayed, coughing up a mouthful of metallic red, his knee hitting the concrete with a heavy thud.
Giyu laughed softly. "Too slow. He cut you five times before your brain even registered the movement."
The Prodigy stood up straight, grinning as he felt the adrenaline of the kill. "I expected more from a Kinatarou," he scoffed. He reached down to his side to wipe the blood off the ice dagger...
His hand grasped empty air.
The Prodigy frowned. He patted his side. The dagger was gone. He patted his pocket.
The box of pills was gone.
A cold chill that had nothing to do with ice ran down his spine. He whipped around.
Yuki was slumped on the floor, bleeding from five deep wounds, looking like a broken doll. But his right arm was raised. In his blood-slicked hand, he held the jagged black ice dagger. In his left hand, he held the small wooden box.
"You..." The Prodigy gasped.
Yuki lifted his head. His face was pale, but his teeth were bared in a savage, bloody grin.
"I got you," Yuki wheezed.
A thin red line suddenly opened up on the Prodigy's cheek—a shallow, precise cut. Yuki hadn't just stolen the items; he had managed to nick him in the exact same millisecond the Prodigy had slashed him. He had traded his body for the objective.
Giyu's smile vanished instantly. He leaned forward on his throne, his eyes narrowing. "He took the hits... on purpose?"
"Catch!" Yuki roared, ignoring the agony in his chest.
He tossed the wooden box over his shoulder. It sailed through the air, a perfect arc.
Seri caught it with trembling hands. She didn't hesitate. She didn't ask questions. She popped the lid, grabbed a glowing red pill, and swallowed it dry.
"Stop her!" Giyu shouted, his voice booming.
The ten Kizo users surged forward, elements of fire, wind, and earth flaring to life—but they were too late.
Her eyes snapped open, glowing with a nuclear, toxic green light. The air in the warehouse grew heavy and humid in an instant. The concrete floor beneath her feet cracked, not from ice, but from life.
BOOM.
Thick, thorny vines, wide as tree trunks, erupted from the ground beneath the warehouse. They writhed like giant snakes, shattering the cement and whipping through the air with terrifying speed. They surged past Yuki, heading straight for the ten Kizo users, a tidal wave of nature's wrath.
Yuki chuckled, collapsing fully onto his back as the vines roared over him. "Now that... is a Queen."
The red pill burned in her stomach like a coal, pumping raw, chaotic power through her veins. The vines she summoned weren't the gentle flora of the Academy gardens; they were thick, dark green pythons, covered in thorns the size of daggers.
Two of the Kizo users—a bulky earth-type and a fire-breather—didn't even stand a chance. The vines lashed out with the force of wrecking balls, slamming into their chests and sending them careening into the steel shipping containers. They slumped to the ground, unconscious before they hit the floor.
But the drug came with a cost. Seri's vision swam. She could feel her mind fracturing under the pressure.
Focus, she told herself. Don't just kill. Save.
Her left hand was outstretched toward the unconscious Luna, pouring a steady stream of restorative green light into the girl's battered body. Her right hand was extended toward Yuki, knitting the slash wounds on his chest back together.
She was fighting, healing, and protecting all at once. She was a one-woman fortress. But a fortress can be flanked.
"Too slow, Princess!"
A blur of motion cut through the vines. It was the female Kizo user—a lithe, acrobatic woman with wind-enhanced speed. She weaved through the thrashing thorns, sliding under a strike that shattered the floor, and popped up right inside Seri's guard.
BAM.
A fist wrapped in compressed wind slammed into Seri's stomach.
Seri gasped, the air forcibly ejected from her lungs. She stumbled back, the healing light flickering for a second, but she didn't break the connection. She couldn't. If she stopped healing Yuki now, he would bleed out.
"Open wide!" The wind-user grinned, winding up for a knockout kick to Seri's temple.
Seri didn't try to block. She grit her teeth, blood trickling from her lip, and swung her arm. She wasn't aiming at the girl; she was aiming past her.
"Get... OUT!" Seri roared.
A vine whipped around from behind, snatching the wind-user by the ankle mid-kick. The woman's eyes went wide.
With a grunt of exertion, Seri whipped her arm toward the broken bay windows. The vine followed the command, flinging the screaming woman across the warehouse. She sailed through the empty window frame and plummeted into the dark, churning ocean below.
Splash.
Seri fell to one knee, panting. A bruise was already blossoming on her ribs. Another Kizo user—a man with metal skin—was charging at her, his fist raised. She braced herself to take the hit. She had no energy left to defend herself; every ounce of Ki was going into Luna and Yuki.
It's okay, she thought, closing her eyes. As long as they wake up.
But the hit never came.
There was a rush of air, warmer than the cold docks.
CRACK.
A foot slammed into the metal-skinned man's temple with the force of a hydraulic press. The man's head snapped to the side, his metal skin denting under the impact.
Yuki landed in a crouch between Seri and the attacker. He wasn't fully healed—his chest was still a map of angry red scars—but the bleeding had stopped. His breathing was ragged, but his eyes... his eyes were burning with awe.
He had watched her through the haze of pain. He had seen her take the hits. He had seen her refuse to heal herself just to keep him alive.
"You really are reckless, Seri-chan," Yuki whispered, though there was no humor in his voice, only a fierce, protective pride.
The metal-man stumbled back, dazed but still standing. Yuki didn't give him a chance to recover.
He surged forward, ignoring the screaming protest of his own muscles. He didn't use Kizo. He didn't need it. He launched a low sweep kick that took the man's legs out from under him, and before the guy could hit the ground, Yuki spun in mid-air.
THUD. THUD.
Two precise, brutal kicks to the man's ribs and solar plexus. The armor caved. The man hit the ground, paralyzed, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Yuki didn't kick the armor; he kicked the man through the armor.
Yuki stood over the fallen enemy, then turned back to Seri. He offered her a hand, his silhouette framed against the chaos of the fight.