Ayu's fists slammed into the concrete, sending shards scattering in every direction. King didn't flinch. His eyes were locked on Ayu's, a calm storm. Every punch Ayu threw was precise, fast, but measured. King didn't need to dodge — he absorbed the force, stepping lightly, almost like he was dancing around Ayu rather than clashing.
Ego's voice cut through the chaos:
"Predictable. Always predictable."
Ayu froze mid-swing. Just for a heartbeat. That was all King needed. His hand caught Ayu's wrist mid-air, not crushing, but firm enough to stop the blow. The grip was an invisible chain, weightless, yet unyielding.
Ayu struggled, but the more he pushed, the tighter King's hold became — not out of strength, but control. The destruction around them was silent compared to the tension in the moment. Ayu's eyes widened. He had never faced anyone like this.
Ego stepped forward, moving faster than Ayu could track. His palm didn't strike; instead, he tapped Ayu's chest lightly. A touch so small it could have been wind, yet it reverberated through Ayu's body like a shockwave.
"Your anger… your rage… it blinds you to yourself," Ego said softly. "You think strength alone makes you dangerous. You're wrong."
Ayu lunged forward, teeth gritted.
"I won't!"
His voice echoed across the empty street, but Ego and King didn't step back. Instead, King released the wrist with precision, letting Ayu's momentum carry him forward — not to hit them, but to teach him balance.
Ayu stumbled, barely catching himself. Rage boiled over, but something inside him hesitated. King's eyes held no malice, only challenge. Ego's presence was like a shadow in his mind — calm, unyielding, analyzing.
Ayu threw a series of rapid punches, spinning, kicking, trying to find an opening. King matched him move for move, never forcing a counterattack, only redirecting. Every clash made Ayu realize: I am not stronger. Not yet.
Then Ego spoke again, this time closer:
"You want power? Not like this. Power isn't just destruction. It's control, purpose, understanding."
Ayu's fist froze mid-air. He felt his confidence shake, not broken, but questioned. A crack in his rage. King took that exact moment, sidestepping and gently slamming Ayu's shoulder with the side of his hand — not to hurt, just to teach him that even power without awareness is useless.
Sweat dripped down Ayu's face. His breathing was heavy. He wanted to lash out, but every attempt King and Ego predicted, blocked, or subtly redirected. It was a storm where Ayu was the lightning — uncontrolled, beautiful, and wild — and King and Ego were the wind, shaping it without force.
Finally, King stepped back. Ego did too. Ayu stumbled to the ground, chest heaving, eyes wide.
"Why…" he panted, voice shaking, "don't you just stop me?"
King knelt, looking him directly in the eyes.
"Because you haven't lost yourself yet. That is why we wait."
Ego added, calm as ever:
"We train, not to break you, but to sharpen you. The moment you lose control of yourself, you stop being dangerous. You become a threat… only to yourself."
Ayu sat there, the emptiness and rage slowly turning into something heavier — awareness. His fists loosened. His breathing slowed. For the first time in years, he realized that power without guidance was hollow.
The fight ended without a victor. Only lessons.