Malachi had been trailing just behind the others when the ground narrowed into a spine of stone.The path ahead dipped into a canyon slit — sheer walls and no wind.
It should have been quiet.It wasn't.
He felt the weight first — like the air getting heavier. A shadow stepped from the cliff's base, hands loose at his sides.
Korras – The Cage That Walks
Weapon: None in the conventional sense — Korras uses his own body as the weapon, augmented with gauntlet-like Gravebinds along his forearms and hands. The Gravebinds emit a locking mana field that stiffens around whatever he grabs, making escape impossible until he releases you.Quirk: "Deadlock Grip" — once he clamps onto a limb, weapon, or piece of clothing, the mana field intensifies with each heartbeat, draining stamina and locking joints. He can chain-grab, pulling one opponent into another.Personality: Relentless and slow-moving until contact. Speaks in a low rasp, usually naming the part he intends to break before moving. Believes in inevitability — his philosophy is that once he touches you, the fight is already over.
Korras rolled his shoulders, metal gauntlets catching a dull gleam."Your ribs," he said, almost conversational. "I'll start there."
Malachi's grip on the Saphir Maul tightened. "Try."
The second figure appeared without a sound — not from the ground, but from the edge of Malachi's vision. A single blink, and a silver flash passed so close it took a hair from Malachi's beard.
Raviel – The Cut Between Heartbeats
Weapon:Spindrift Edge, a narrow, curved blade so thin it hums in the wind. Forged from mana-tempered glass-steel, it's nearly invisible in motion.Quirk: "Ghost Sliver" — Raviel's strikes move faster than most can track, but his real danger lies in his aftercut technique: he can delay the effect of a slice by a second or two, making wounds open after his blade is already gone. Often seems like he "missed" until blood flows.Personality: Elegant, soft-spoken, but carries an undertone of cruelty. He treats combat as a dance, complimenting an opponent's form even as he takes them apart. Speaks in polite fragments — a predator disguised as a gentleman.
Raviel straightened, the thin blade angled downward in a loose grip."Your guard," he said softly. "Too high."
Malachi pivoted just in time to catch the next strike on the Maul's haft — the vibration sang up his arms.
The Two-on-One
Korras didn't rush. He advanced steadily, knowing Raviel's speed would keep Malachi busy. Every time Malachi swung to punish Raviel's darting movement, Korras closed another step.
Malachi's mind worked in pieces — keep Raviel in front, Korras out of arm's reach. Easy to think. Harder to do.
Raviel's strikes came at strange, off-beat moments — not in rhythm with Malachi's swings, but in between, forcing him to adjust the Maul's heavy weight constantly. Then, as Malachi deflected one high cut, Korras lunged low.
The gauntlet locked around Malachi's wrist.
The pressure hit instantly — a cold band that felt heavier with every pulse. Malachi twisted, muscles straining, but the Gravebind didn't budge. Korras's voice was calm, almost bored:"Wrist. Then elbow."
Raviel's blade whispered in from the side — a killing blow if Malachi stayed caught. Malachi shifted his stance hard, dragging Korras into the strike's path. Raviel didn't flinch — his cut skimmed Korras's shoulder, drawing only a shallow line.
"Closer," Raviel murmured. "Good."
Korras ignored the wound entirely, yanking Malachi forward — and into Raviel's next slash.
The Saphir Maul was built for destruction, not finesse — but Malachi had fought enough to know when to use its weight instead of its head.
He shoved downward, letting the Maul's full heft drag both their locked arms toward the stone floor. Korras followed, unwilling to release the grip — and Malachi used that moment to kick the haft upward with his knee, jarring Korras's chin.
The Gravebind's grip loosened just enough. Malachi wrenched free, rolling to his feet.
Korras flexed his gauntlets, no change in expression. "Shoulder. Then throat."Raviel tilted his head slightly. "We'll see."
They moved again, and Malachi realized the pattern — Raviel darted in fast, forcing a guard shift, then Korras closed in for a grab from the opposite angle. One moved like lightning, the other like an anchor, but together they left no safe direction.
Malachi's defense began to fray. A shallow line appeared along his ribs — delayed pain blooming as Raviel's earlier cut finally opened. Blood dampened his side.
"You'll slow soon," Raviel said."Not before you fall," Malachi answered.
He needed chaos.
Malachi slammed the Maul into the ground — not for damage, but to spray stone shards into the air. Raviel's speed meant nothing if he couldn't see his target clearly. The dust cloud swallowed them all.
Korras charged blindly, relying on his sense of space — but Malachi was already moving sideways, dragging the Maul in a low, brutal arc. It caught Korras's leg just above the ankle — a sickening crunch.
The big man dropped to one knee, still trying to grab — even as bone jutted wrong.
Raviel's blade flashed through the dust — a cut aimed at Malachi's throat. Malachi turned with it, the blade skimming across the Maul's head and sparking.
The dust thinned — and all three stood still, measuring.
Korras straightened despite the injury. "Next time," he rasped.Raviel smiled faintly. "Yes. When the music's slower."
They withdrew without further attack, vanishing into the stone corridors at the canyon's far end.
Malachi let out a long breath, blood dripping from his ribs.
"They're not done," he muttered. "And neither am I."