John felt the medallions pulse in his hand, each heartbeat resonating until their rhythm became his own. Without conscious thought, his palm pressed them united against the center of his chest. Instantly, they adhered, a hot pressure blooming across his sternum. A blaze of pure, white-gold light erupted around him, consuming the alley, throwing his allies and adversaries into temporary blindness. Then, as the glare faded, he stood armored: thick, gleaming plates etched with tiger motifs, claws embossed along the forearms and shoulders, reminiscent of the ancient Earth Tiger Armor he'd glimpsed in dreams tied to his former life.
Power thrummed within him—raw, new, yet familiar—as though the armor and medallions completed a circuit only he was meant to close. The Ninja, now a hulking, shadow-wreathed colossus, paused, jaw tightening beneath his mask at the sight of John's emergence. The air charged; even the rift quivered, black tendrils recoiling from the radiant presence.
Then, The Ninja charged—huge fists swinging at unnatural speed, force that could have crushed buildings. John braced, boots digging into concrete, armor plates flexing. In their first clash, every punch John absorbed glowed on contact, his Tiger armor repelling corruption like flame consumed by light. He answered with a Tiger-Claw strike that ripped through shadows, chi trailing his fist in golden arcs, a technique taught by Bob but empowered now beyond anything mortal.
They fought toe-to-toe—John's every Tiger Move amplified by armor and medallion. His strikes generated full bursts of chi: golden bursts that cracked concrete and scattered the smaller shadows left in The Ninja's wake. His Tiger Aura flared outward, pushing back creeping darkness. For every brutal swing The Ninja unleashed, John responded with a powered palm strike or a high kick that launched shockwaves across the walls.
Despite his inexperience with this gift, John found instinct guiding him. The moves followed patterns he'd learned—and now they carried annihilating power. Each strike felt as though he tapped into the legacy of all Tigers before him: Bob's discipline, Abe's ferocity, Danny's chi mastery. Every fiber of the armor resonated with the fight, unraveling The Ninja's shadow armor as white-gold light tore into black.
The battle escalated: they crushed dumpsters, cracked pavement, shook the alley in tremors. The Ninja lashed back with a shadow-infused katana strike aimed at John's midsection. John pivoted, chi burst ripping from his Strike of the White Tiger, colliding with the blade like steel meeting flame. The impact threw The Ninja back, chest staggered.
John followed with twin Tiger Palm thrusts—one against the chest, one toward a knee—Chi spearing through the darkness. Sound exploded as bone met chi, the shockwave rattling the remaining medallions in John's armor.
The rift trembled and shrank. The smoke began to recede. The Ninja snarled and charged again—but this time, John was ready. He ducked under a wild overhead strike, closed the distance, and with both arms unleashed the Phoenix Rising Palm, a move taught in legend and now fueled by power. The strike drove The Ninja backward, body twisting, shadow mass peeling from him in dripping waves. John pushed on, palm forward, voices echoing: "For Bob… for Abe… for Avalon!"
Then came a final surge. John gathered all the chi in his core. Light whipped outward. Armor jets flared. His voice roared and the medallions flared alongside him—blinding white at first, then gold, then balanced into a pure glow that saturated the alley and crushed the last strands of shadow.
The Ninja skidded to a stop, breath ragged, chest exposed. The Tiger Aura spiked around John like a crown. John delivered a final strike—Thunderclaw Sweep—blasting The Ninja off his feet and sending him across the alley. He hit the wall with a rumble but remained motionless.
Silence followed. The rift collapsed. Shadows faded. The medallions dimmed but remained warm.
John knelt, armor plating softly clinking. Bob and Abe watched, proud despite their exhaustion, as Danny rushed forward. Lorna, trembling, approached and placed a hand on John's armored forearm. John looked up and saw them: his new family, the legacy of the Tigers still living. And beyond them, the alley opening onto a dawn of possibility.