AT THE BATTLEFIELD
Axzeroth and Yardy hovered in the open sky, the wind whipping past them like a warning.
"Head east," Yardy said. He didn't look over; his gaze was already locked onto the heat signatures on the horizon.
Axzeroth's head snapped toward him, his eyes narrowing. "Don't give me orders, boy. You're overstepping."
"It wasn't an order," Yardy replied, his voice terrifyingly level. "It was an observation of the tactical landscape. You're better suited for the loud one."
"I am your senior," Axzeroth hissed, closing the distance between them until they were chest-to-chest in mid-air. "In this world, power dictates the lead. Remember your place before I decide you're more of a liability than an asset."
Yardy didn't flinch. He simply looked through Axzeroth. "I'm sensing two powerful signatures. One to the east, in Nachio, and one to the west, near Fake Scars. The one to the east... his name is Luke. He's a brawler. Pure ego. He'll be looking for a god to fall for; you're the only one arrogant enough to give him the show he wants."
Axzeroth adjusted his gloves, the leather creaking. "Fine. You take the west. Try not to die—it'll make me look bad for having such a weak subordinate."
"Just move," Yardy muttered, already turning away.
Without another word, they split—two streaks of light cutting through the clouds in opposite directions. As the air roared in his ears, Dr. Thomas's voice echoed in Axzeroth's mind: "Help Ron and the others. Once the battle is won, return immediately." Axzeroth scoffed to himself. Return? I haven't even started breaking things yet.
The Clash with Luke
Axzeroth was mid-flight when he spotted a lone figure standing atop a house. The moment their eyes met, the figure ignited with power and lunged. Axzeroth didn't flinch; he smiled and accelerated directly into the collision path.
They closed the distance in a heartbeat. The man threw a massive, bone-shattering punch—but his fist passed through Axzeroth as if he were made of smoke.
The man's eyes widened in shock. He began to turn, but he was too slow. Axzeroth, solid once more and wearing a predatory grin, drove a heavy fist squarely into the center of the man's face.
The impact was cataclysmic. The man was driven into the earth with such force that a massive crater spiderwebbed out for hundreds of yards.
From the settling dust, the man scrambled to his feet, blood dripping from his jaw. "Do you think you can defeat me?" he roared at the sky. "I am the GREAT LUKE!"
In the time it took him to blink, the air pressure shifted. Axzeroth was suddenly inches away, his shadow looming over him.
Before Luke could react, Axzeroth's hand clamped onto his face like a vice. With a burst of speed, Axzeroth slammed him downward, driving him 11 kilometers deep into the crust of the earth.
"Luke?" Axzeroth whispered, his voice dripping with disdain. "You are weak."
With a sickening wrench of raw strength, Axzeroth tore Luke's head from his shoulders. He tossed the trophy aside as if it were trash. For Luke, the world tilted, faded, and went dark.
Elsewhere...
Yardy was already locked in a brutal exchange of blows with a man, holding the upper hand. The impact of each strike sent shockwaves through the air, scattering debris around them.
But suddenly, the man vanished.
He reappeared behind Yardy, delivering a flurry of strikes and a heavy punch that sent Yardy sprawling, dust and loose stones flying from the impact.
Yardy pushed himself up, grit on his face, and met the man's gaze.
"I clearly underestimated you," he said—and in an instant, shape-shifted into Ron.
Before the man could recover, Yardy teleported behind him, delivering the same rapid combo, finishing with a punch that slammed him toward the cracked ground. A cloud of dirt exploded around them.
But the man didn't hit. Yardy teleported beneath him, striking his abdomen with a powerful kick that launched him into the air. The wind whistled from the force, rattling nearby structures.
Without hesitation, Yardy teleported above him, punched, and sent the man crashing to the ground. Cracks spider-webbed across the floor where he landed.
The man rose, and in a blur, appeared behind Yardy. Yardy barely teleported in time to dodge, feeling the gust from his opponent's strike brush past him.
His speed… it's incredible, Yardy thought, wiping blood from his lip.
He struck at the man's face, but the man moved like a shadow, barely leaving a ripple in the air.
Again, the man tried to strike from behind—Yardy teleported just in time.
Brilliant speed… I'm barely keeping up with him, even with teleportation, Yardy thought.
Suddenly, they faced each other, exchanging punches simultaneously. The collision sent a shockwave that blew dust and debris into the air. They moved back, panting, faces bloodied.
The man wiped blood from his mouth.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Yardy. And you?"
"Joseph Nelson," he replied.
"You're amazing. Your speed keeps up with my teleportation," George said.
"Nah," Yardy replied. "You're better. I'm borrowing someone else's skill. Your speed… I've never seen anything like it."
Joseph smiled.
"To be honest, I liked your shape-shifting."