Perfect 👊 — thank
THE IRON FIST 👊
Chapter Twelve – Hunt Through the Storm
The rain hadn't stopped. It carved through the night like knives, drumming on rooftops, whispering in alleys. Every drop seemed to carry a name.
Jared.
Silva moved through the city like a shadow. His hood was up, his fists hidden beneath gloves, but the faint golden light beneath his skin betrayed him — a pulse, steady and burning.
He was hunting now.
The Hand had broken into his home. They'd burned his room, written warnings in blood, and Jared had stood there in the storm like a phantom. That image wouldn't leave Silva's mind — his best friend's face twisted by darkness.
Now Jared was out there somewhere. Watching. Waiting.
Silva followed the trail through the narrow streets. His mother was safe — he'd made sure of that, sent her to stay with a friend on the east side. But the guilt lingered like smoke in his lungs.
The storm was his only companion.
Lightning flashed, and for a moment, he saw a reflection in a puddle — a silhouette moving across a distant rooftop.
Jared.
He ran.
The city blurred around him — glowing signs, dark alleys, the smell of wet asphalt. He moved with unnatural speed, his training pulsing through every nerve. The Iron Fist wasn't just in his hands anymore. It was in his blood.
When he reached the building, he climbed. The rain slicked the metal, but he barely noticed. His heartbeat and the thunder merged into one sound.
At the top, Jared was waiting — standing at the edge, his back turned, the wind tearing at his coat.
"You followed," Jared said without looking back. "Good. I hoped you would."
"Why?" Silva's voice was rough. "So you could try to finish what you started?"
Jared turned slowly. His eyes glowed faintly red under the rain. "Finish? No. I wanted to see if you'd finally stopped pretending you're better than me."
Lightning cut the sky between them. For a heartbeat, they looked like mirror images — two boys forged by the same pain, walking opposite roads.
"You attacked my home," Silva said. "You nearly killed my mother."
Jared tilted his head. "That wasn't me. That was the Hand. You think I control them? No, Silva. They control you. They always have."
"Liar."
Jared smiled. "Ask your father."
The words hit harder than a blow. Silva's jaw tightened. "He's dead."
"Is he?" Jared asked softly. "Or did he just leave before you saw what he became?"
Silva's breath caught. The storm seemed to freeze.
"You don't know anything about him."
"Oh, but I do," Jared whispered. "He trained with the Hand before your precious master stole him away. The Iron Fist was never meant to protect. It was meant to conquer. You're just following orders written in blood long before you were born."
Silva's fists flared bright gold. "Enough!"
Jared's grin widened. "Then prove me wrong."
The air cracked.
Silva charged.
Their fists collided, light against shadow, gold against crimson. The shockwave shattered the rooftop tiles and split the rain midair. Sparks of raw energy burst around them, lighting the storm like falling stars.
Jared countered with a sweep of his arm, red energy spiraling from his hand like fire made of venom. Silva blocked, the blast scorching his sleeve but leaving his skin untouched — the Iron Fist roaring inside him like a chained beast.
"You can't control it," Jared shouted over the thunder. "It's killing you!"
Silva struck again, the glow from his fist turning white-hot. Jared dodged, his movements fluid, almost inhuman.
Every strike was met with another. Every roar of thunder echoed their fury. The rooftop cracked beneath their feet.
Finally, Jared vanished — a blur swallowed by the storm.
Silva spun, eyes wide. "Show yourself!"
A voice came from behind him, whispering like smoke. "You're still afraid to finish the fight. That's why you'll lose."
Silva turned — too slow. Jared's strike caught his side, sending him skidding across the slick rooftop. Pain burned through him.
He rose, one hand pressed to his ribs. "You call this strength?"
Jared raised his hands, crimson power dripping from his fingers like fire. "Strength is not about protecting others. It's about never being powerless again."
Silva's fire pulsed brighter, golden veins crawling up his arms. "Power without mercy isn't strength. It's just destruction."
"Then be destroyed!" Jared roared, lunging forward.
The impact tore through the night. Their energies collided, exploding in a burst that lit the city skyline. Windows shattered blocks away. The rain turned to steam around them.
Silva fell to one knee, the light in his hands flickering. Jared approached slowly, his shadow long and sharp.
"You see?" Jared said, voice almost tender. "You can't win. You're fighting what you are."
Silva's head bowed. Rain slid from his hair, mixing with blood and sweat. "Maybe I am," he said softly. "But I can still fight what you've become."
He slammed his fist into the ground. The rooftop shook. A ring of golden energy burst outward, throwing Jared back through the air.
Silva rose, fists blazing brighter than ever before. His eyes glowed like molten metal.
Jared stood, laughing. "That's it. Let it consume you."
But Silva's voice was steady now. "No. I control the fire."
He moved faster than sight — a single, clean strike that connected with Jared's chest. The sound was like a bell ringing through the storm.
Jared flew backward, crashing through a metal sign and vanishing into the rain below.
Silva stood on the edge, chest heaving, rain washing away the steam.
He stared down, but Jared was gone. Only darkness and the sound of the storm remained.
The Iron Fist dimmed slowly, fading back into his skin. His hands trembled, not from fear — but from the power that still wanted more.
He looked at his reflection in a puddle. The gold in his eyes was brighter now, almost unnatural.
The old man's words echoed in his head: "The fire will not save you. It will test you."
He clenched his fists. "Then let it test me."
Somewhere below, in the maze of alleys, Jared crawled from the shadows — battered but alive. He wiped the blood from his mouth and smiled, whispering,
"Good. Now you're finally becoming what they want you to be."
Lightning split the sky one last time.
And the storm swallowed them both.