---
"I'm going to kill you."
The words came out like a growl, deep, almost inhuman. His throat vibrated with raw, foreign rage that surpassed him. His lips were dry, his tongue stuck to his palate. Every breath burned his chest as if his lungs were swallowing embers. Heat rose from his gut to his head, fevering his entire body. His veins throbbed, swollen as if ready to burst, and his fingers clenched on their own, eager to crush.
His muscles twisted under his skin, jolted by electric discharges. He could almost hear his bones crack under the unbearable tension. In his ears, his blood hammered like a furious drum. Everything inside him screamed the same thing: slaughter him.
But a thousand questions roared back at that inner cry.
What's happening to me? Is this normal? Am I still human? Where is this power coming from?
He didn't have time to answer.
Lorenzo: — You? Kill me? Hahaha! Don't make me laugh!
His opponent lunged. The floor vibrated under his weight. Each step slammed against the parquet, sending dust swirling. A fist tore through the air, so close a freezing gust brushed his cheek.
Instinctively, he dodged. Not a choice. Just a reflex.
Lorenzo didn't stop. His blows rained down, beating the air with sharp whistles. Each strike cracked like a whip. The room filled with noise—splintering wood, ragged breaths, muffled impacts.
He kept retreating, every muscle wound tight like a spring. His feet struck debris, rolling plaster and glass under his soles. His breathing grew ragged, heavy, his lungs begging for air.
Lorenzo: — So what? You wanted to kill me?! All you do is run! Hit me!
The truth was bare: he didn't know how to strike. His body dodged, yes, but his fists trembled, useless.
The wall slammed against his back. No choice left. He raised his elbow.
A brutal shock. Lorenzo's fist smashed into his arm. The bone vibrated with a painful wave, a sharp crack echoing up to his shoulder. A burning sting. A bell of pain.
Then, without thinking, he grabbed Lorenzo's head and slammed it against the wall. The plaster burst with a dry crunch. White dust rose in clouds, choking the air. Every breath scraped his throat, the bitter taste of plaster mixing with iron blood.
Lorenzo: — Hk! Finally waking up, huh?!
A fist flew. Brutal. The blow split Lorenzo's lip, blood splattering in red droplets. A metallic taste filled his mouth, dripping down his chin. His jaw vibrated, a piercing whistle filling his ears.
And yet, the strike hadn't been born of technique. It was stolen. A copy. The creature's eyes had watched, absorbed. His body had recorded the sensation and now replayed it.
Him (coldly): — You talk too much.
His eyes gleamed with an icy light. Effortlessly, he grabbed Lorenzo's head and hurled him through the door. Wood splintered like a breaking bone, shards flew, the metal handle slammed against the wall with a metallic clang.
---
Outside, cold air lashed Lorenzo's face. He rolled across the filthy ground, his back scraping gravel and shattered wood. The taste of blood thickened in his mouth, metallic, nauseating. His breathing wheezed, each inhale burning his dust-clogged throat.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing a red streak across his cheek. His eyes locked on the dark silhouette advancing step by step through the shattered doorway, like an implacable beast.
Lorenzo (hoarse whisper): — Tch… this guy isn't human. He's a monster.
His heart pounded like a drum in his ears, but certainty dawned. This opponent was strong, far too strong. But his strikes… raw. No guard, no structure. Nothing but blind force. A beast, yes… but a newborn monster. A creature just born. And that was his weakness.
Lorenzo (shouting): — COME ON, MONSTER!
He charged. His shoes slammed against the concrete. Ahead, the creature raised its fist. Its posture revealed everything.
Lorenzo: — Predictable!
A slip, a low step, and he closed in. His fists struck. A flurry. The beast's stomach absorbed each impact. The sound was dull, like pounding a thick leather drum. The enemy's body heat burned his knuckles.
Ragged breaths burst from his lips.
He leapt back, panting, his chest burning.
Lorenzo: — Weakness of a fist: too close, useless. Too far, powerless. But me… I can strike differently.
He raised his leg. The air whistled, cutting sharp. The creature lifted its arms to protect its head. Exactly what he wanted.
A cruel smile curved his lips.
Lorenzo: — Trapped.
The trajectory shifted, and his foot smashed into the back of the neck.
A sharp crack. A Brazilian kick.
The beast: — Arkkk!
Its whole body staggered, trembled. Its knees buckled. Its breath cut into a rasp. Lorenzo felt the ground vibrate under the impact.
Lorenzo (panting, gasping): — It's over…
But no.
An iron grip clamped around his ankle. Cold. Terrifying.
Lorenzo: — Wha…?!
He was yanked down with monstrous force. His back slammed into the dust, his skull thudding against the concrete. Air burst from his lungs in a strangled gasp. Dust filled his throat, choking him as he coughed violently, his mouth already full of blood.
And still, he laughed. A red, sputtering, mocking laugh.
Lorenzo (choking laugh): — So? What are you gonna do? You can't even—
He stopped.
Before him, the creature lifted its leg. High. Far too high. Muscles taut, balance flawless. Eyes… glacial.
It was imitating his kick. No… it had absorbed it. Reinvented it.
Lorenzo (stunned): — He… he learns just by watching me…
A cold sweat trickled down his temple. The truth hit. This wasn't just brute strength. This was a predator evolving. A beast that copied, assimilated, perfected.
Lorenzo (last breath, a twisted smile): — You really are… a newborn monster…
The foot crashed into his temple.
A dull thud. Blackness.
Lorenzo's body crumpled, lifeless, while the creature remained standing, ragged breath spilling from its chest, eyes burning with a murderous gleam.