Before he hits, BLASH—I drive my fist straight into his heart-line, turning his strike into the ground.
Silence. I think the blow finally lands. He collapses. Is it over?
Loki head lifts.
"Fun," he says. "I feel it now." He stands in front of me. "Entertain me. Again." A crooked smile cuts across his face.
"I thought you'd underestimated me," I answer. "Like I'm not on your level. I'll prove it now, Crazy Fighter."
I use his stance—the very stance he's about to take—again.
Finally, his other hand comes out of his pocket.
Loki sneers.
"Bastard…"
SWASH—Heart. I drive a sweeping kick through, fast and crushing, stronger than his strongest strike.
Loki is thrown briefly into the air. In that same instant, his heart stutters.
He crashes down in front of me. His expression changes in a blink.
Revulsion to Astonishment in a Third Breath.
"What the—" He pushes himself up slowly, blood slipping from the corner of his mouth.
"How is this possible, damn it…" Loki uses the stance I just used. I don't move an inch. I already know the line of his attack—and its impact.
SLASH—He kicks for my heart. I've already stepped aside. I catch his face for a split second—completely changed, fear laced with something like old trauma.
"Fast doesn't mean strong," I say. After I evade, his openings are everywhere.
Loki shifts his footing, lifts a leg, reaches for my head to smash me into the ground.
I use the other man's stance—Paragon's. Loki freezes for a heartbeat. That's my opening.
I go for his leg, throw off his balance, then drive for his face. I end this now.
BLASH—I smash into his leg, just as hard as Paragon did before. Loki staggers. He throws up an arm, sealing the gap.
Still, I try—CLASH—not a clean hit to the face. I land on the arm in front of him and slam him into the ground.
"Huff." I breathe out, heavy. Really heavy.
I think my sight is running wild.
But there's always a price. Blood trickles from my nose, my chest burns, my insides feel like they won't hold if this fight doesn't end soon.
His fists clench. He stands again. But that fear I won't dwell on—
Loki's face changes again, into something else.
"Truly insane," I murmur, this time dropping into a defensive stance.
"Like you said, fast doesn't mean stronger. But—" Loki says, cutting himself off.
"Hm?" I murmur.
"What about very fast, bastard?" he continues.
"Makes no difference, asshole," I reply.
"Oh yeah?" he replies. "Let's see."
My body won't hold out much longer. I won't let this end the same way—it ends with honor.
This time, with no exceptions like before.
His expression shifts after the fear.
He targets my legs. I dodge. I am exhausted—my vision has truly narrowed. He changes his attack toward my ribs.
I block it, almost too late. I would have gone down if I had taken that hit.
Desperation—that is what I read in his face. Yet the impact of his strikes is changing, becoming faster, far faster.