Author's Note: I decided to try third-person omniscient(?). I wanted to see if people preferred if character's inner thoughts were revealed without having to completely switch scenes. I'd appreciate any feedback or suggestions.
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It was light, almost musical, but the sound carried a subtle distortion that made the air around her vibrate. As the laughter faded, Kafka's left hand clenched.
Sunny noticed it immediately.
Five rings glinted faintly on her fingers, each one etched. From each ring trailed a nearly imperceptible string, thin enough to be mistaken for dust in the air. So thin, that it was only now that Sunny detected their shadow…
Which had stretched all across the Stargazer Navalia.
Sunny's expression sharpened a fraction of a second before the world lurched.
Cargo containers groaned as they tore free from their clamps. Half-assembled starskiffs shrieked as their suspension frames buckled, massive hulls ripping loose from gravitic holds. In an instant, half a dozen colossal objects altered course midair, converging on their position like a closing fist.
The strings tightened.
They were not part of Kafka's Aspect.
Sunny understood that immediately.
They were a tool Memory. Designed not to allow Kafka to swing around as she wished — although, she might be able to use them in such a way — but to let her discretely take control of the battlefield. They turned the environment itself into a weapon.
Sunny flicked a glance at Fu Xuan beside him.
Her posture had not changed. Her breathing was steady. Her eyes remained shut, expression unreadable.
Getting crushed by several hundred tons of alloy was, at worst, an inconvenience for her.
Sunny vanished.
Shadow Step carried him behind Kafka in less than a fraction of a second, darkness folding over distance as if space itself had decided to be cooperative. The moment he reappeared, Hail Sorrow was already in motion, black steel arcing toward Kafka's spine.
Kafka twisted.
Her blade met his with a scream of force, and in that same instant, both of them did something very few beings in existence could manage on command.
Kafka's soul ignited.
White sparks erupted along her arm, racing from shoulder to knuckles as Soul Essence detonated outward, her strike carrying the weight of her fused existence. The phenomenon was instantaneous, violent, and absolute.
Sunny shadowed her.
He did not know the name of what he was doing. He did not conceptualize it as a technique. He simply copied the feeling, the flow, the intent. Shadow Essence collapsed inward, spiraling into a dense singularity before exploding outward through his arm and blade.
The shockwave tore outward, pulverizing the rooftop beneath them and sending both combatants flying in opposite directions. Kafka slid back in a controlled arc, boots carving molten lines into the surface as she absorbed the recoil.
Sunny was sent much farther.
He twisted midair, boots skidding as he used Shadow Step to disappear and reappear in the same spot, killing all his momentum in an instant.
Shadows erupted from the ground around Kafka, tendrils snapping upward like spears, each one thick, tangible, and reinforced far beyond what he would have attempted minutes earlier. They lunged to ensnare her limbs, her torso, her weapon.
Kafka sliced.
Her tachi flashed in precise, economical arcs, severing shadow after shadow with contemptuous ease. Each cut dispersed the constructs into writhing fragments that fell away like torn cloth.
That was the point.
From the remnants of the severed shadows, Sunny stepped out.
He had traveled through the shadows themselves, using Shadow Step in tandem with Manifestation, treating the destroyed constructs not as failures, but as pathways.
Kafka's eyes widened a fraction.
'Too late.'
Sunny deflected her blade with a sharp twist of Hail Sorrow, steel screeching as he knocked it aside, and drove his fist forward toward her abdomen. Shadow Essence spiraled violently through his arm, compressing into a dense core.
He intended to land it for a third time.
At the same time, the cargo containers and starskiffs crashed down where Fu Xuan stood.
Sunny felt a flicker of uncertainty.
He had expected her to move.
She was fast enough. She was a Saint. There was no reason for her to remain somewhere that would somewhat slow her down…
His fist stopped.
Someone was holding it.
Sunny's eyes snapped wide as he found Fu Xuan standing directly in front of him, her small hand wrapped firmly around his knuckles. Her eyes were still closed, expression serene, as if she were holding back a child rather than intercepting an attack meant for a Transcendent.
He staggered back instinctively, forcing her to release his hand.
His shadow sense screamed.
The next moment, the cargo containers and starskiffs were sliced apart midair, massive chunks of alloy tumbling away in smoking halves.
Kafka stood where they had fallen.
She glanced down at herself, then back up, brow lifting slightly.
"…That was strange."
Sunny's gaze snapped between them.
Fu Xuan could swap positions.
Fu Xuan tilted her head slightly toward him, lips curving into a faint, satisfied smile.
"You're not completely dimwitted. Good."
She turned her attention back to Kafka, then paused, her brow furrowing faintly.
"…How are you two doing that?"
Her head tilted, halo rotating slowly behind her as she considered the clash she had just witnessed.
Her brow furrowed in disbelief.
"Aren't you both hitting those much too casually? Are you two just that lucky?"
Sunny didn't have the urge to answer, as the question was targeted towards multiple people, and not just himself. He still shrugged, anyways.
He wasn't too sure what luck had to do with it, as he was just copying what he was seeing. Thanks to his evolved Blood Weave and his natural tendencies due to Shadow Dance, his understanding of how Essence flowed in others was extraordinary.
So, he just cheated off of Kafka, completely unaware that Kafka was cheating herself.
Between the three of them, the battlefield shifted.
This was no longer a contest of raw strength.
It was a battle of minds.
A narcissist who genuinely believed he possessed an IQ of seven hundred, despite the reality being far lower than that. A Master Diviner of the Xianzhou Luofu, whose closed eyes concealed calculations layered atop calculations. And a Stellaron Hunter whose actions had personally heralded the end of multiple civilizations, guided not by madness, but by deliberate choice.
Kafka smiled slowly as she regarded them both.
"Ah, I hate smart people. Things get too complicated, you see?"
Sunny adjusted his grip on Hail Sorrow, shadows coiling tightly around his feet, his thoughts still racing with half-formed ideas and dangerous inspiration.
Fu Xuan stepped forward beside him, bare hands raised, halo flaring brighter.
And for the first time since the fight began, Kafka took a step back.