Alex stepped into the Crimson Riot Axis headquarters and froze.
The hall was massive—stone flooring underfoot, high ceilings above, and crimson banners rippling silently overhead. There wasn't time to take in much more. The place radiated movement, voices, and energy.
Scuff marks trailed across the ground. It was clear this hall saw everything—training, battles, downtime. Fighters were around, doing their own thing—some sparring, others laughing or eating. A few tossed a ball lazily between them. It was all background noise to what stood in front of him.
His eyes widened, jaw slightly parted.
This Axis is massive...
Behind him, Leif let out a theatrical yawn and stretched his arms up with exaggerated boredom.
"What's with this idiot?" he muttered under his breath, loud enough for Alex to catch. "Acting like he's never seen a wall before."
He made a lazy gesture toward the far end of the hall.
Alex followed the motion with his eyes.
There was a desk at the back, tucked near a pair of monitors. A girl sat behind it, her hands flying across a keyboard. Her posture was straight, her face unreadably calm, focused on the glowing screen in front of her.
Leif smirked and spoke with a casual tone.
"There—see her? That's Rebecca. You've gotta meet her to officially join."
Alex's gaze sharpened, locking onto her. His lips curved into a small grin—and before Leif could blink, Alex grabbed his wrist.
Without warning, he yanked him forward.
They shot across the floor, Alex charging with enthusiasm, dragging Leif like a sled behind him.
Leif flailed in mid-air, trying not to trip over his own feet.
"Oi! Hey! I can walk, you know!"
Rebecca looked up at the sudden commotion. Her expression flickered with surprise for half a second—then softened into a slight smile.
"Leif?" she asked, voice touched with quiet amusement. "Did you bring a guest or a stray?"
Alex stepped in front of Leif confidently, planting himself between them.
"I'm not a guest," he said. "I'm here to join the Crimson Riot Axis."
Rebecca tilted her head slightly and tapped her chin, as if sizing him up.
"You might be..."
"Alex," he interrupted, firm and clear.
Her expression lit up with recognition.
"Ah—Alex Bezerin. You applied last week, right?"
Alex gave a proud nod.
Rebecca rose from her chair with measured grace. She moved like someone who didn't need to command attention—her presence just did it naturally. Calm, composed, and quietly in control, she adjusted her collar as if this was routine.
"Well then," she said, her voice soft but decisive, "you'll need to pass a test first."
Behind Alex, a faint scuffling sound betrayed Leif's stealthy attempt to slip away. He had been slowly, carefully backing off, one step at a time. But Rebecca's words froze him in mid-step, one foot hanging in the air like someone caught sneaking a snack before dinner.
His shoulders slumped.
Welp, he thought with the resignation of a man facing a fate worse than paperwork. My job's done...
Alex tilted his head, curiosity piqued. "What kind of test?"
Rebecca didn't answer. She didn't have to. Her right arm rose slowly, a finger extending behind her without so much as a glance.
Alex followed the direction she pointed.
There, several feet away, stood Leif—now awkwardly turning around like he'd been summoned by fate itself. His confusion was obvious.
"A sparring match," Rebecca said evenly.
Alex's eyes gleamed with interest. He rolled his shoulders, as if already imagining the fight ahead. "With who?"
Rebecca's hand didn't budge.
Still pointing.
Leif blinked once. Twice. And then turned again, this time more slowly, like a character in a horror film who suddenly realized they were the target.
Rebecca's voice landed like a gavel.
"It'll be Leif."
"What?!" Leif threw his arms up in disbelief. "Why is it always me?! What did I do in my past life?!"
He stood there for a moment, hands still flailing, looking like a man betrayed by the universe. But then, with a sigh as deep as a canyon, he puffed out his chest and raised one fist to the sky in dramatic defiance. He planted his foot with a purpose, as if declaring war on destiny itself. His other hand fell to his hip in a theatrical pose.
His glasses caught the light at just the right angle, producing a dramatic flash like some low-budget anime effect.
"Fine!" he declared. "I, the mighty Green Phantom, shall be your opponent!"
The room didn't respond with applause. Instead, it reacted like a room that had seen too much of the Green Phantom.
From the background, a voice rang out like a heckle from the gods.
"Cut the act, Leif!"
Another followed with deadpan timing. "Just don't trip this time!"
A few chuckles echoed faintly through the hall. Leif winced but maintained his exaggerated stance, as if determined not to let the background noise dent his pride.
Meanwhile, Alex was already cracking his knuckles. A faint buzz filled the air as small sparks flickered around his fingertips—subtle, but enough to send a message. A crooked grin tugged at his mouth.
"Get ready, Lord Green... FOUREYES."
The line hit Leif like a slap made of syllables. He recoiled a step, placing both hands on his hips with the exaggerated offense of a teacher scolding a misbehaving student.
"What the hell, man?!" he blurted. "You can't just combine insults like a salad!"
Rebecca stepped between the two, calm amidst the storm. Her hand rose, palm outward, a silent signal of authority that halted both of them like a wall.
"Settle down," she said, voice smooth but commanding. "That's not how we start a match."
The atmosphere shifted.
All around the hall, the ambient noise had swelled into something heavier. The sound of boots shuffling across stone, crates being dragged, and benches scraped—members from across the Axis were gathering. They clambered up to balconies, leaned over railings, perched on wooden crates like eager spectators at a coliseum. It wasn't just a spar anymore.
The crowd began to stir.
"Start the fight already!"
"Show him what you've got, Leif!"
"LEIF! LEIF! LEIF!"
The voices grew louder, meshing into a raw rhythm of anticipation and mischief.
Leif stood still, eyes half-lidded, a weary sigh escaping his lips.
"Why does it sound like they're chanting at my funeral...?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Rebecca led the two of them into the open center of the hall. Sunlight spilled in from high arching windows above, casting sharp beams that cut across the floor like stage lights. She raised her hand again, this time between the two of them, fingers extended.
Her voice echoed with a touch of ceremony.
"All right, you two..." she said. "Begin."
Leif moved first.
A sudden blur of motion—he shot forward with surprising speed, the heel of his boot scraping against stone. His arm drew back, fist clenched tightly, aimed straight for Alex's face.
But Alex didn't blink.
In the second Leif's punch closed the gap, Alex's hand shot up. Effortless. Sharp. He caught Leif's wrist in his palm like he was snatching a falling twig.
CLACK!
The sound rang through the hall—a short, solid impact—followed by a sudden pulse of violet light that surged from Alex's palm in a short burst. The shockwave rippled through Leif's arm like static fire.
"Gah—!" Leif yelped, yanking his arm back like it had just touched a live wire. He stumbled a step away, shaking out his hand furiously.
He glared up with a mixture of irritation and surprise. "Okay... okay, strong start. I see you."
Alex stood motionless, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. He hadn't moved an inch.
Leif rolled his shoulders, rotating one arm with a slow windup. His lips curled into a familiar smirk—a mix of mischief and madness.
"Guess I'll have to bring out the vines!"
Green light burst from his elbow.
It wasn't a glow—it was alive. Wild energy rippled down his arm as emerald vines erupted from beneath his skin. They slithered out like awakened snakes, coiling and twitching in the air around him.
They hissed as they moved, the ends sharp, whip-like, and lined with faint thorn patterns that shimmered with kinetic energy. The crowd leaned in. Even the noise quieted just a little.
Leif's arm swept through the air.
The vines lunged forward, snapping toward Alex like serpents unleashed.
But Alex was faster.
A bolt of lightning snapped from his hand with a whipcrack, splitting through the air with violent precision. The impact met the vines mid-flight. Light met life.
BOOM!
The explosion cracked in the center of the arena, rippling with smoke and force. A shockwave hit the floor, scattering dust and throwing Leif backward like a ragdoll. He hit the ground hard, skidding across the stone floor with a sharp thud and a pained grunt.
He landed on one knee, bracing himself with one hand as his shoulders sagged.
He coughed once, then muttered, "Oof... damn. Okay, okay."
The onlookers reacted instantly.
"He's getting wrecked!"
"Classic Leif!"
Some laughed. Others leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
Above the arena, perched on one of the high balconies overlooking the match, a girl in a bomber jacket leaned forward. Her elbows rested on the railing, fingers laced under her chin. Her eyes were locked onto the battlefield below, analyzing everything like a hawk.
"His vines..." she whispered, almost to herself. "They regenerated mid-air just now."
Another voice, low and measured, responded from just behind her. "They're faster than before."
Down below, Leif wasn't looking as confident. He clutched his side, wincing. His ribs ached from the last clash—Alex's lightning had done more than just knock him across the floor.
"I didn't want to use this already..." he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible amidst the noise of the watching crowd. "But fine."
He pressed his hands together, fingers sliding into a new sequence of shapes—quick, practiced, and deliberate.
A thrum pulsed through the ground.
Green energy surged from his palms and funneled into the stone beneath his feet. Almost instantly, vines responded—lashing into the ground like they were diving into water. They vanished from sight.
Alex watched with a skeptical tilt of his head. His eyebrow rose as he took a cautious step back, reading the change in energy.
Something shifted beneath him.
A heartbeat later, roots exploded from the cracks at his feet, attempting to coil around his legs like snares. Alex's reflexes kicked in—he darted to the side, electricity sparking from his fingertips.
CRACK!
A lightning pulse surged downward in a flash, burning through the roots mid-rise. Smoke curled up from the floor, the scent of charred wood cutting through the air.
"You really trying to trap me underground?" Alex called out, turning his head to scan for his opponent.
No response.
Leif had vanished.
Or rather, he had blended into the chaos he'd just created.
The battlefield had changed. The once open space of the hall now shifted into something wild—alive. Vines erupted from every surface. They slid out of floor cracks, snaked across crates, slithered along the walls like sentient ivy. The light in the arena dimmed slightly under the growing green canopy.
From somewhere in the crowd, someone yelled, "This is Leif's domain!"
Another voice joined in, "Green Phantom Mode!"
The cheer rippled like a signal.
Alex spun—instinct guiding him—and just in time. A vine lashed out from behind like a whip aiming for his spine. He twisted mid-air and fired.
ZAP!
A bolt of violet lightning met the vine mid-strike, the impact bursting in a small flash.
But another vine, almost like a feint, came from a blind spot and grazed his arm.
A sting shot through him.
A shallow cut opened across his bicep, red peeking through the skin. The attack wasn't deep, but it was sharp—and it landed.
Alex flinched slightly and stepped back, his hand clenching around the wound. Purple sparks snapped and danced around his knuckles as his fingers curled into a fist.
He looked down at the vine-covered floor, lips twitching into a crooked smile.
"You actually got me," he said, voice low, amused, even impressed.
He squeezed his arm once more, letting the pain sharpen his focus. Sparks cracked against his wrist, creeping up toward his elbow like veins of power.
Then he glanced back at the jungle before him. His smirk widened.
"Heh… guess I'll go serious too."
A low rumble coursed through the ground beneath Alex's boots. It wasn't the kind you heard—it was the kind you felt. The faint tremor built from the soles of his feet to the center of his chest, syncing with the rhythm of his pulse. A faint crackling sound followed as tendrils of purple lightning began to coil up his legs. They circled like living chains, twisting with controlled fury, glowing brighter with each breath he took.
The very air around him seemed to hold its breath.
Zzzrrmmm.
Then, the ground snapped.
With the suddenness of a sprung trap, thick green vines burst from the floor beneath him, whipping upward like living ropes with one mission: to grab his ankles and drag him down. They moved fast—too fast for an average fighter.
But Alex wasn't average.
In one motion, lightning surged through his legs, and his body responded with a blinding leap. A spiral of violet energy erupted beneath him as he launched himself upward. The vines snapped closed on empty air, slicing through the space he had just occupied.
He soared into the air—but something was off.
There was movement above.
From the ceiling canopy of vines, Leif emerged, descending like a reaper cloaked in green. His bomber jacket flared from the wind, his glasses glinting as he locked eyes on Alex. Wrapped tightly around his arm was a massive whip of vines—thick, thorned, pulsating with energy.
No witty remark. No silly grin. Just raw focus.
"VINE COIL STRIKE!!"
Leif swung downward with everything he had.
The vine whip came crashing through the air like a steel cable laced with thorns, humming with violent intent. Wind screamed around it as the blow descended on the last place Alex had touched.
BOOM!
To be continued...