The space between them disappeared in less than a heartbeat.
Viktor's sudden charge was nothing like the slow, measured advance he had used throughout the match. His enormous body surged forward with frightening speed, carrying the compressed sphere of Quarantine around his chest. His right fist was drawn back, while the dense pressure stored beneath his sternum made the air around him tremble.
Yuzuki had nowhere safe to go. Retreating would trap him against the retaining wall, while dodging sideways would force his broken ribs through a sharp turn his body could no longer handle.
He did neither.
His Six Eyes followed Viktor's charge, but Yuzuki stopped looking for a normal escape. Any ordinary step would create momentum toward or away from Viktor, and the moment that movement entered Quarantine, the field would take it from him.
'Then I won't move normally.'
Yuzuki loosened every muscle he could without collapsing. Rather than pushing himself away with his legs, he spread several tiny points of Blue through the space around him. One formed against the cracked floor beside his heel, another near a piece of debris behind Viktor, and several more through the air surrounding his body.
He activated them one after another.
The floor shifted slightly beneath him. The air pulled from one side, while another point of attraction dragged his clothing and body a few centimetres in the opposite direction. Yuzuki did not leap or drive himself forward. He allowed the small pulls to move him in brief, controlled slips.
Viktor's fist passed through the space where his face had been.
The pressure behind the missed strike tore a deep line through the retaining wall, but Yuzuki had already shifted three centimetres to the side.
The movement was barely enough.
It was also agonising.
Every small displacement shook his cracked ribs and strained the muscles around his spine. The Six Eyes had to control dozens of separate pulls without allowing any one of them to become strong enough to throw his body normally. Too much force would create clean momentum for Quarantine to stop. Too little would leave him in Viktor's path.
'Left. Two centimetres.'
The floor pulled beneath his foot.
'Forward. One centimetre.'
A second point of Blue shifted him closer.
To the spectators, Yuzuki no longer appeared to be walking. His body slipped through the air in short, unnatural movements, advancing by centimetres without taking a proper step.
It was not teleportation. He was still crossing every part of the distance, but he was doing it through dozens of tiny pulls instead of one obvious burst of speed.
The motionless step.
Viktor turned and attacked again. Yuzuki shifted beneath the swing, then slid along the edge of the compressed field. His movements were awkward and small, but they denied Quarantine the single rush of momentum it had been built to seize.
The crowd roared as Yuzuki moved deeper into Viktor's reach.
In the private viewing box, Wing rose so quickly that his chair fell behind him.
"He's replacing normal footwork with a series of tiny spatial pulls," he said, staring down at the arena. "Instead of pushing his body in one direction, he's moving the space around it little by little."
Kastro watched Yuzuki slip past another punch by less than an inch. "Can his body endure that?"
"No," Wing answered immediately. "He has never conditioned his spine or balance for this kind of movement. Every correction is pulling him from a different point."
Viktor had already understood the purpose of Yuzuki's new movement.
The boy was no longer charging into Quarantine. He was slipping through its edge in tiny increments, using movements too small and scattered for the field to stop cleanly.
Viktor did not allow frustration to slow his thinking.
If Yuzuki wanted to move closer, he would let him.
The pressure stored beneath Viktor's sternum began to grow. He drew the remaining force inside Quarantine inward, compressing everything he had absorbed throughout the match into the smallest space his body could contain.
His muscles tightened around the strain. Heat spread across his chest, and several dark veins rose beneath his skin.
He was preparing to release everything at point-blank range.
Yuzuki saw it.
The Six Eyes traced the pressure building through Viktor's ribs and shoulders. He understood what would happen the moment he moved close enough. Viktor would unleash Iron Verdict in every direction, leaving no angle for the motionless step to escape through.
'He's turning himself into a bomb.'
Yuzuki continued forward.
High above the arena, Netero sat on one of the steel support beams with his legs hanging over the edge.
A delighted laugh escaped him when he understood what both fighters were planning.
"The big one wants him close enough to destroy," he murmured, stroking his beard. "And the boy knows it."
His smile widened.
"Neither of them intends to back down."
Yuzuki slipped past another strike and entered the final metre around Viktor's body.
His ribs felt as though they were cutting through him from the inside. Blood ran from his nose, and every new point of Blue made his vision flicker. The motionless step was carrying him forward, but the strain was building faster than he could control.
Viktor's chest was now packed with enough pressure to tear apart everything around him.
Yuzuki slid directly in front of Viktor's sternum.
The veteran looked down at him, and for the first time that match, a trace of certainty entered his eyes.
"I have you."
Yuzuki's bloodied lips lifted slightly.
"No. You made the mistake of letting me get close."
Viktor released Iron Verdict.
The force stored throughout the match exploded outward at once. The arena floor collapsed beneath them as stone, dust and compressed air burst in every direction.
A fraction before the blast reached him, Yuzuki activated Infinity.
The shockwave slowed around his body, trapped within the endless distance created by the technique. It could not touch him, but Infinity protected only Yuzuki. It did nothing to stop the destruction spreading through the rest of the arena.
The explosion tore apart the ground around them, creating a crater beneath Viktor's feet. With Yuzuki standing directly in front of him, part of the force that should have expanded freely struck the resistance created by Infinity and rebounded into Viktor's compressed field.
The pressure crashed back through the same sternum that had been storing it.
Viktor's eyes widened as his own power tore through his defence from the inside. His chest and shoulders jerked violently, while the carefully maintained shape of Quarantine broke apart beneath the returning force.
The centre of the arena vanished beneath a tower of dust.
Emergency barriers rose around the lower spectator stands as fragments of stone rained across the safety field. The explosion drowned out the commentators, and for several seconds, nothing could be seen inside the ring.
When the dust slowly began to clear, a wide crater had replaced the centre of the arena.
Viktor was still standing.
His legs remained buried firmly in the broken floor, but dark bruises covered his chest and blood ran from the corner of his mouth. Each breath came with a wet cough, and the heavy aura that had surrounded him throughout the match now flickered unevenly.
Quarantine had not disappeared completely, but its stable shape was gone. The force rebounding through Viktor's body had torn the field open before he could safely release it.
Yuzuki stood several steps away.
Blood ran from his nose and ears, and an endless ringing filled his head. Infinity had protected his body from the direct blast, but it had not protected his senses from the noise, pressure and violent movement of the collapsing arena.
His balance shifted beneath him.
The distortion around his body flickered once, then weakened.
Five seconds had passed.
Infinity vanished, and the fifteen-second cooldown began.
Neither fighter moved immediately. Viktor's defence had been forced open, but Yuzuki's ears were ringing, his ribs were cracked and his concentration was beginning to fail.
Through the settling dust, their eyes met.
---
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