The city was breaking apart.
With each titanic clash between David and the formidable, bone-plated Rook, the very fabric of the ruins trembled. The streets fractured like cracked skin, gaping open to reveal dark chasms beneath.
Flames erupted violently from the debris of crumbling buildings, casting flickering shadows that danced like ghosts in the chaos.
Shockwaves radiated outward, throbbing through the still air like the measured beats of a monstrous heart, resonating with the fury of two behemoths entwined in an epic struggle for supremacy.
From above, it looked less like a fight and more like the birth of a catastrophe. Dust spiraled upward in great, twisting columns, each impact carving craters through what was once a city block. Shattered steel beams jutted out like bones from the earth.
The world was burning — not from fire alone, but from motion, from violence too vast to be contained.
David and the Rook were somewhere in the center of that storm, flashes of red and white light colliding again and again. To mortal eyes, it was a blur — too fast, too savage to comprehend. Each time their powers met, the city shuddered.
Not far from the chaos, another battle raged.
A beast moved through the lower streets like a comet — a tiger wreathed in flame, every step scorching the earth. Rea was unrelenting, his claws a blur of molten fire, tearing through the remnants of the horde. Rank-twos fell like wheat before a scythe, their bodies reduced to ash and embers.
Where Rea walked, the world glowed red. The air itself burned.
And into that inferno stumbled a man — battered, limping, his clothes shredded, his face streaked with grime and blood. Felix.
He moved as fast as his broken body allowed, ducking between crumbling walls and shattered vehicles, eyes scanning the battlefield below. When he caught sight of Rea — that flaming titan devouring the last of the undead — he froze.
"What in the hell…"
Even through the heat haze, the scene felt unreal. The zombies that had once surrounded the transport were almost gone, their corpses charred black. Only a few stragglers remained, crawling or burning as Rea tore through them like paper.
Felix didn't linger. He pushed forward, ignoring the ache in his ribs. His goal was the ridge above — the high ground where the transport, the civilians, and the rest of his squad should be.
He climbed, boots slipping on loose gravel, the heat from below licking at his back. A stray explosion from the Rook's fight sent a gust of hot wind that nearly threw him off balance.
At the top, he finally saw them.
The transport was still there — scorched, dented, but intact. The team was still in formation, weapons drawn, guarding the perimeter. The civilians huddled close behind, pale and trembling. For a fleeting second, relief washed over him.
They were alive.
Then the ground shook again. Harder this time.
A shockwave rolled over the ridge, flattening the dust. Felix looked up — and froze once more.
Far off, two figures clashed amid the ruin. One, a human shape engulfed in red light. The other, a colossal Rook gleaming with pale bone. Their movements were cataclysmic. Entire buildings disintegrated under the force of their blows. The air rippled like liquid heat.
The destruction was beyond anything Felix had ever seen. Even the Rook he'd fought — the one that had nearly killed him — looked pitiful compared to this one.
He could barely keep his balance as another shockwave tore through the air, the sound of colliding power roaring like thunder.
Felix immediately activated his comm, his voice cutting through static.
"Mary—what the hell is going on down there?"
For a moment, only silence. Then her voice, thin but steady, came through.
"Captain? Thank god you are alright." Mary replied, a few moments later, she continued, "Sir, I don't know who—or what—he is, but he's the only reason the others are still breathing."
He didn't reply. He couldn't. His eyes stayed locked on the maelstrom in the distance — on the lone figure that refused to fall.
….
Just moments before Felix reached the ridge, the rest of the team was already watching.
From their position near the transport, the battle looked like something torn out of a nightmare. The shockwaves reached them in pulses, distorting the air and rattling the debris beneath their feet. Every few seconds, the horizon lit up — sometimes red, sometimes white — as flame and bone collided again.
They didn't know what to feel.
Fear. Awe. Disbelief. It was all there, tangled together.
Philip was the first to speak. His voice came out low, almost reverent.
"He's… still fighting."
Kara stood beside her, one arm shielding her face from the gusting wind. "Fighting?" she muttered. "That's not fighting — that's something else."
Each time the ground shook, her words nearly vanished under the noise.
They could barely see what was happening. The figures moved too fast — two blurs tearing reality apart. But even so, Kara's eyes narrowed, watching the pattern of the chaos.
Something didn't fit.
At first glance, it looked like David was losing ground. He was smaller, slower, and constantly forced onto the defensive. Every clash sent him skidding backward, every near miss left another crater in the earth. By all logic, he should have been dead already.
But he wasn't.
And slowly, impossibly, the rhythm began to shift.
Kara frowned. The longer she watched, the more she noticed it — the timing of his movements, the precision of each dodge. His attacks were changing. Sharper. Faster. More deliberate. The hesitation was gone.
It was as if he were learning what made the rook, a monster. Adapting.
Every blow that didn't land taught him something. Every wound refined his rhythm. His footwork grew lighter, his swings more efficient. Even his breathing — ragged at first — now came steady, measured.
She glanced at the girl standing quietly among them.
The mysterious one.
The girl's eyes were fixed on the distant battle, unreadable. She hadn't flinched once since it began. The heat, the shockwaves, the noise — none of it seemed to reach her.
If anything, she looked… calm.
Kara felt a chill.
The thought formed once again.
'Who are these people?'