Clapping sliced through the warehouse like a knife.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Mocking.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Seated atop the piled crates the masked head of DRAKANS stood up. His hands gestured with accuracy as if he were applauding a stage play instead of a slaughter about to erupt.
"I've been waiting for you Akira."
His tone was calm tempered by power and experience. Not raised—never raised. Those who wield death do not have to yell.
I grinned subtly under the lights.
"Certainly " I responded, my voice casual, courteous. "All humans enter life anticipating their demise."
A wave swept through the group. Terror. Anger. Bewilderment. They were uncertain whether to submit or fight back.
The chief jumped.
Ten feet below, touching the concrete silently. He rose gradually rotating his shoulders as though preparing for activity.
"This isn't enjoyable " he remarked, pacing around me from afar. "You ended their lives with a sword. Too swift. Too compassionate."
He extended his arms.
"There are a thousand fighters. They will attack you wielding knives, guns, chains, metal, teeth—every weapon they possess."
His gaze pierced the mask.
". You " he remarked with a smile "shall confront them using only your bare hands."
I got up from the box.
The warehouse appeared to draw a breath.
I extended my neck. Rotated my shoulders. Allowed my muscles to relax, energy buzzing beneath my skin, like lightning. Gradually intentionally I thrust my sword into the ground.
The steel shrieked.
"I enjoy challenges " I stated calmly. "It's time to face off."
The initial man accused.
He did not get in touch with me.
I raised my eyes. Allowed FEAR to inhale.
It surged forward like a wave—dense overwhelming. Men halted abruptly eyes growing wide as their deepest fears emerged from the shadows. Mothers shouting. Children wailing. Faces they had hidden away. Left behind.
A few laid down their arms.
Some shouted.
A few turned against one another.
Regardless the second wave arrived.
I relocated.
A fist collided with a jaw—bone fractured. I spun around elbow thrusting into a throat crushing it inward. A kick bent a knee sideways with a crack. I seized a blade with my hand twisted it and slammed its handle into the man's head.
I kept on moving.
An extraordinary power coursed through every hit—not chaotic not careless. Disciplined. Exact. Every strike calculated to incapacitate to conclude to obliterate.
A chain looped around my arm. I tugged.
The man took flight.
Corpses collided with boxes. Firearms discharged uncontrollably projectiles ripping through the space I occupied moments earlier. I disappeared—
—and reappeared behind them.
VOID.
A whisper of space folding.
I forced two skulls to collide. Bent down ankles, pressed ribs beneath my boot. My fists turned into blades mightier than metal. Each move blended seamlessly—karate, judo, guerrilla fighting, primal reflexes, beyond labels.
A voice shouted my name.
"AKIRA—!"
I rotated.
WHISPERS crept into his thoughts.
Drop it.
He complied. The firearm dropped with a clatter, onto the ground. He sank down onto his knees crying uncontrollably scratching his face.
More came.
I allow REALITY to unfold.
Men swayed, gripping their heads as their transgressions unfolded behind their eyes—deliberate, relentless clear. They perceived themselves through the eyes of their victims. Experienced each scream they had dismissed. Some broke into laughter. Others pleaded with me to end their lives.
I chose not to show mercy.
The ground turned slippery due, to the blood.
Boxes tumbled down. Glass broke apart. Silhouettes flickered chaotically while figures dropped repeatedly. My breathing remained steady. Perspiration blended with blood vaporizing in the atmosphere.
I remained solitary in the middle.
Hundreds were shattered. Hundreds additional escaped, crushing one another in terror. The warehouse resonated with moans and dread.
And above it all—
The leader observed.
Unmoved.
Unfazed.
Five hundred people came at me all once. They were like one group, really angry and armed, with iron and steel.. Then something strange happened. Fate itself seemed to step and stop them.
The world just stopped. Everything came to a standstill. The world stopped moving. It was, like time itself had stopped for the world. The world. Nothing was happening.
Men stopped moving all of a their boots just inches above the ground. A knife was stuck in the air like a thought that was never completed. The dust, in the air even seemed to stop falling. The loud noise of the fighting just. It was replaced by a silence that was so quiet it was actually really loud. The war was silent the war was still the war just. It was a really strange feeling.
I felt it then. That is a strange feeling that I just can not explain. It is like something happened and I felt it then I do not know what it was. I felt it then.
Time was really being controlled. It felt like time itself had been grabbed and was being held tightly. Time was not free to move at its pace. Time was being held by the throat.
From that stillness the man walked forward. He just got up. Started walking from that quiet and peaceful place. The stillness was really quiet. Then he walked away, from it.
Each step was loud even though there was silence. The leader who was wearing a mask and hood walked through the frozen chaos in a very calm manner like he was taking a walk in a garden. The leaders posture showed that he was very disciplined. His knees were slightly bent his shoulders were relaxed and his balance was perfect. This was the stance of a warrior. The leader had the calmness of an executioner.
The man said "Let us dance... Devil." He really wanted to dance with the devil. The devil was who he was talking to. He said this to the devil.
The mans voice was moving through the air. The air itself was not moving. His voice was the thing that was moving it was really strange. The air was still it did not move at all. His voice moved through the air.
I smiled.
The world was stuck in some kind of spell. I did not ask questions about it. When he showed up I was ready, for him. I stood my ground. Waited to see what he would do like you wait for a big storm to hit. The spell was powerful. I was not afraid of it or him.
The man just disappeared he vanished.
Not ran.
Not leapt.
Vanished.
The next breath—he was before me.
My mind was not ready for him to be there when he punched me in the stomach. The punch was not just strong. It was mean. He wanted to hurt me. I bent over air rushed out of my lungs and blood came out of my mouth. It was like my body was telling a secret it did not want to tell. His fist in my stomach was a shock. The pain was bad. My body reacted to the punch. I felt like I was going to pass out. His presence was still a surprise, to me when he hit me.
I was, on a plane and it took off so I flew.
Concrete scraped my boots as I skidded back two metres. That really hurt. I felt pain through my bones. It was like someone hit a bunch of bells. They were all ringing at the same time. I stood up straight. Wiped the blood from my lips with my thumb. Then I laughed even though it hurt. The pain, from the concrete was still there. I laughed anyway.
"…Impressive."
I paid for something.
Low. Fast. Calculated.
I slid under his leg that was up, in the air and the ground felt really cold on my back. Then I kicked back up at him trying to hit him in the spine. My kick hit him it was a hit but he just bent forward and rolled with it. He flipped around in the air. Landed on his feet like it was nothing like gravity did not even matter to him. The kick I did was a back kick. It was aimed right at his spine.
We ran at each other.
My arm bumped into the persons arm. The persons arm hit my arm.
The impact was so strong that it made a strong wind that broke the boxes that were nearby and it made the people who were standing still look really shocked. He punched me in an rough way but I bent down and hit him with my elbow right in his side. I could feel his bones move when I did that.
The boy did not cry.
His hand grabbed my throat his fingers were, like clamps and he pulled me towards him right into his knee as it came up. I felt a lot of pain over my face. My blood started coming out because my teeth cut the inside of my lips.
I stumbled backwards and my eyes went fuzzy everything was spinning around me. My vision was really blurry.
He was no man.
Not anymore.
I drew a circle in the air with my fingers making signs that meant something. The fire came to life when I called it and it started to burn in a ring. It was so hot. It made a lot of noise. I threw the fire at him. The fire was really. It was all around him. I made the fire with my hands and I was, in control of it. The flame was my fire. I told it what to do.
The man raised his hand.
The water rose. It was the water that rose.
Not summoned—commanded.
The wall of steel came forward really fast and it ate up the flames. It made a hissing sound like a bunch of snakes dying. The steam went up into the air with a scream. The liquid steel just kept coming. It was really hot.
My breath caught in my throat all of a sudden.
I said this quietly "How is this possible?" I was completely amazed. "A gift, from an angel?"
The man responded with violence. He used violence to answer. The answer he gave was violent.
A big storm came out of his hands with sharp water flying right at me. I fought back with fire turning the water into steam that made it hard to see. The air, between us was like it was cooking.
The man pressed his thumbs together. He did this slowly and carefully making sure that his thumbs were touching each other. The mans thumbs were now together. He was holding them that way.
Pulled them apart.
The water. It suddenly turned into a solid thing. It became hard and sharp. Now the man was holding a sword made of crystal. This sword looked really scary. It seemed to be very cold. The crystal sword was, in the mans hand. It looked like it could kill someone easily.
The man made a move and lunged forward.
I flipped backward. My cloak snapped like wings behind me. My hand reached back. My fingers closed around the handle of my own blade. The steel made a sound as I pulled my blade out. My blade was really sharp. It sounded great when I drew it free.
Our swords met. I was really scared when our swords met. The sound of our swords meeting was very loud. Our swords. It was a very bad situation.
The clash was thunder.
He hit me first with a swing, then a low swing and then he spun around with his sword. His sword was moving fast like a river and it was coming straight for my neck. I blocked his swing moved closer, to him. Then I swung my sword at an angle to try and make him drop his. He turned his body our swords got stuck together. Our faces were really close just a few inches apart.
The mans strength was the same as my strength. His strength was equal, to my strength.
No—
The thing mirrored the thing.
He drove me back with a lot of moves. He thrust at me then slashed at me and then he used a reverse grip to strike me. Each time he hit at me he was trying to kill me. I managed to deflect each blow and the sound of our weapons hitting each other was really loud, like sparks flying. My wrist was really hurting me. My shoulders were hurting a lot too. But I just kept going I did not give up I kept fighting the man.
I turned around. Swung my sword down from above. He stopped it. The force of the blow broke all the windows in the warehouse. Pieces of glass fell everywhere like ice as a strong gust of wind blew out. The sound of breaking glass was really loud. I was still holding my sword. I was ready to fight again. The warehouse was a mess, with glass over the place and the wind was making it hard to see. My sword was still shaking from the impact. I was waiting to see what would happen next, with my sword.
And then—
The mans mask flew off his face.
Time comes back, to us in pieces. Sometimes we get bits of time back. This time that is returned to us is broken into fragments. The time that we get back is not whole. It is time returned in fragments.
My heart just stopped beating. I do not know what to do. It is like my heart forgot how to beat. I am really scared because my heart is not beating like it should. My heart forgot how to beat. That is a really bad feeling.
The face beneath the mask was my own.
Same eyes.
Same scars.
Same damned reflection staring back at me through another life.
"My voice was shaking. You look like me. How is that possible? You look like me. That is really scary. You look like me. I do not understand how that can be."
The man smiled.
Slow. Knowing.
The man pulled back his hood. He wanted to show his face. The man pulled back his hood to see things clearly.
There—upon his chest—burned an old scar. Twisted. Familiar. A wound carved into memory.
He asked me that question in a soft voice "Do you remember this?"
The whole world just tilted.
That scar opened up a door in my mind and I saw fire I heard screams I saw blood it was a night that was full of betrayal. My knees felt really weak. The past came back to me like something cutting through my ribs. I was remembering that night and it was, like a knife going into me. That scar made me think about the past. It was very painful.
I said his name loud it felt like saying it could hurt me really badly. His name it was all I could think about and speaking it just a whisper seemed like it could be very painful, for me. I thought about his name and what it meant to me and I was scared to say it but I did anyway I said his name.
"…Vernon?"
The devil that is right, in front of me bowed his head a bit.
And smiled wider.