The announcers's voices came from invisible speakers in the sky, layered and cryptic,
"Two men stand between dissolution and desire. One will learn that mercy is not survival. One will pay the toll of wisdom."
The audience shivered. Even through the screens, the tension was palpable.
Albert dropped his burnt trench coat to the roots. Steam curled from the cloth as it touched the damp moss. His black shirt clung to him, half-torn, marked by the acid's kisses. He rubbed a cut near his neck and exhaled.
Piere limped closer to the glowing trunk. The veins of green light rippled across the tree's bark, revealing etched symbols. The marketplace runes. Without a word, both raised their Soul Tokens. The symbols responded instantly.
Albert flicked his wrist and the system screen appeared, floating faintly in front of him.
Two vials appeared in the air. Blue liquid swirling inside glass tubes with silver caps.
[Healing Potion – Restores 30% vitality. Cost: 2 Soul Tokens each.]
He bought two, watching the four tokens vanish from his total. "Back up supplies." he muttered.
Piere tilted his head. "Confident, aren't you?"
Albert didn't look up. "Confident people survive. Proud people die. That is why the world is dumb."
Piere smirked and tapped his screen. A long rectangular case materialized, glowing faintly white. He reached out, and it unfolded itself into a plasma gun. A twin-barreled, each side shaped like curved blades meeting at the handle. It hissed with stored electricity, arcs dancing along the edges.
He spun it once, the light reflecting across his sharp eyes. "Five tokens well spent." he said. "One shot and even gods will forget your name."
Albert eyed it quietly. "Wgat if I make you miss?" he replied, "and you'll just be a story people mock."
Piere laughed lowly. "Funny. I like being remembered but as less I can."
The tension hung like smoke. The acid storm outside hissed against the barrier, echoing like applause.
Albert scrolled through the shop again. His eyes stopped on something strange.
A pair of plain dice, dull gray, almost ordinary.
[Fate Dice – Results alter probabilities in unseen ways. Roll wisely. Cost: 2 Soul Tokens.]
He bought them without hesitation. The dice landed in his palm, cold and heavier than expected.
Piere's brow furrowed. "Dice? What are you going to do, gamble the rain away?"
Albert smiled faintly. "Something like that. You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
Albert looked up, meeting his eyes. "It's not luck I'm betting. It's outcomes."
The announcers' voices rose again with static,
"Checkpoint Two complete. Balance tilts. The storm hungers."
Both men turned toward the acid rain once more. Waiting for the signal of the next run.
"Checkpoint Two — CLEARED. New phase initiated. The path elongates. The acid hungers anew."
Piere didn't wait for a second word. He dashed forward, his boots striking wet moss, feet slipping through steaming puddles.
The moment he crossed the barrier, the acid rain hissed down like molten glass. He raised the plasma gun above his head.
The dual blades rotating and humming, forming a temporary shield of white light. Each drop sizzled and burst midair. His movements were unbelievably fast.
Behind him, Albert didn't move. He stood under the tree's emerald shade, eyes following the distance where Piere's silhouette was already vanishing. He whispered, almost too quiet to hear, "You always run too early, gramps."
He rolled his wrist. The metallic dice appeared in his palm. Their edges pulsing with faint red lines, veins of power rather than paint. They hovered slightly, resisting gravity. He closed his eyes and flicked them downward.
The moment they hit the ground, the sound was something unfamiliar. not the clack of dice on earth but a deep chime.
The runes on each face shifted constantly, blurring through languages too ancient to exist. Albert watched them spin, and the system responded:
[Fate Dice Activated.]
[Rule: "Outcome unfolds in reflection."]
[Effect: The inverse of all the evil outcomes shall manifest for 480 seconds.]
He smirked. "So that's how you work."
He stepped out of the shielded radius. The first drop of acid hit his shoulder and instead of burning through his coat, it splashed as ordinary rainwater, cool and harmless. Another fell on his cheek; it felt fresh, clean. The acid had inverted its nature.
The audience gasped. The announcers couldn't hide their disbelief.
"The acid has turned to water. He's walking freely through the rain! Impossible! The Fate Dice reversed elemental nature itself!"
Inside the match's projection hall, viewers leaned forward, watching the rain distort around him. It wasn't just luck — it was control over causality itself.
Albert adjusted his hat, letting the now-water rain soak his hair. "Not bad," he murmured. "Eight minutes…. more than enough for a head start."
He thought that last one took 3 minutes. The more they go further on, the more distance between checkpoints increases. Eight minutes should be enough for this if "he" doesn't bring any thorn in way.
He sprinted forward, boots slicing through shallow ponds that hissed harmlessly now. Steam rose around him in beautiful spirals, like he was running through a dreamscape rather than a death field. The air smelled of ozone and rain, not acid.
He caught sight of Piere ahead. The man now slowing slightly, forced to keep his plasma shield active. The acid was eating into its edges. Draining energy with every passing second.
Albert smiled faintly, the type of smile that belonged to a man who'd already solved the puzzle before it began.
"Let's see." he muttered, "if the gods favor gamblers or believers."
He ran faster, the sound of his steps mixing with the artificial thunder. Above, lightning split the clouds. Forming what looked eerily like a pair of dice, rolling once before fading.
Eight minutes. Eight thousand droplets of time. The game of fate had just begun.
Each movement looked like a dance with death. Piere's zamarra flared behind him, burned and torn but he didn't slow down. His mind ran faster than his feet.
I just need to delay him. Waste his minutes. The time is his timer.
He twisted mid-run, kicked off a slick branch, and flicked two metal chips backward. They burst into clouds of reflective dust — false mirages of himself scattering through the storm. Albert saw ten Pierres moving at once, all running in different directions.
Albert exhaled, wiping water off his face. "Nice trick." he muttered. "Smoke can't fool the wind."
He drew a long spear from his inventory. A Yari of jade steel, engraved with the crest of the Kakin Kingdom. The weapon shimmered faintly, humming like a restrained storm. Albert spun it once and slammed it into the ground. The earth and air shattered.
A gust sliced through the forest. No simple wind but a compressed wall of pressure. It swept through branches, tore up mud and caught Piere mid-stride.
The fake clones evaporated instantly. The real Piere stumbled, coughing, his steps breaking rhythms. His speed and stamina drained in seconds.
Albert was already there surprisingly. Appearing behind him in the shadow's motion. The Yari glowed, tip pointing to strike.
Piere turned like a beast cornered, eyes wild. He grabbed the weapon mid-thrust, flipped his grip and twisted. The same Yari cut through Albert's arm. A perfect clean slice. Blood and rain mixed, steaming on the ground.
Albert stepped back, shock flickering only for an instant. Then he chuckled. "If 'extraordinary' was a person."
He reached for his belt, popped open two vials and drank both at once. The potions burned through his veins, light pulsing under his skin. His arm started reforming. Bones knitting, muscle crawling like red vines, skin closing.
Piere aimed his plasma gun, teeth clenched. "You're persistent."
He fired.
The blast wasn't sound. It was a roar that bent space. The entire half of the field exploded in a blinding red flare. The acid rain vanished under the sheer heat. Trees, ground, everything in a radius turned to glass.
Albert swung Kuga, his katana, once. The blade hummed with black light. The swing wasn't physically bound. It cut through the explosion itself, splitting it apart, slicing atoms down until the blast simply ceased. The noise was ceased down in a vacuum.
He dropped to one knee, bleeding again, face pale, smoke curling from his coat. His system flickered, warning lights flashing red.
Piere glared, breathing heavy. His gun melt slightly from its own heat.
Albert stood slowly, spread his feet and did a dramatic backward slide — moonwalking over ashen earth. "Couldn't unbalance me." he smirked.
A spark ignited beside him. A delayed secondary blast.
The explosion sent him flying into the air. Bunch of his hair spinning off, coat flapping like wings. He shot through the acid storm like a human rocket, vanishing into mist and still laughing as he was banished into the heaven.