The fight continued through the burning school courtyard, flames crawling along the shattered windows, smoke rolling across the ground, and broken pieces of concrete scattered beneath their feet.
Mystic suddenly dashed backward, his shoes scraping hard against the pavement, before twisting his body and rushing forward again, his weapon flashing through the smoke as he unleashed a rapid series of slashes, each swing cutting through the air with brutal speed, forcing Elijah and Karma to stagger and defend themselves.
She barely managed to keep her footing as several strikes tore across her defences, the impact driving her backward, while he was caught by another slash, the blade cutting into him before he managed to pull away.
Blood ran from the wound, but neither attack seemed to slow them for long, and Mystic's breathing grew heavier as he stared through the smoke, his own blood running down the side of his face, dripping from his chin, and splattering onto the scorched ground beneath him.
He suddenly surged forward, his movements becoming faster despite the blood pouring from his head, his body refusing to acknowledge the injuries weighing it down.
His attention snapped toward Elijah, his feet pounding against the pavement as he closed the distance, and before she could properly turn toward him, Mystic disappeared into a blur, reappearing directly in front of her.
His leg snapped upward, the kick catching her beneath her guard and lifting her completely off the ground, her body thrown into the air as her momentum carried her backward.
He immediately followed, twisting his body beneath her, his weapon rising in a powerful upward arc, the blade striking through her defence and sweeping her higher before the force of the attack launched her away, sending her crashing toward the opposite side of the courtyard.
Mystic landed heavily, one foot sliding across the pavement as he steadied himself, his chest rising and falling rapidly, blood dripping from his forehead and mixing with the rain of ash falling around him.
His fingers tightened around his weapon, his eyes shifting between Elijah and Karma, his shoulders tense, every breath coming out rougher than the last, as though his body was beginning to catch up with everything he had forced it through.
"I need to do something before I get cut myself," Mystic mutters to himself.
A sudden metallic click came from behind him, followed by the faint hum of kinetic energy, and Mystic's head began to turn, his eyes catching the movement just a moment too late.
Karma had pulled out his own kinetic katana, its blade formed from the power of his dragon mask, energy rippling along its edge as he launched himself upward, his body cutting through the smoke before beginning to descend.
He twisted in midair, positioning the blade at a precise forty-five-degree angle, his entire body following the motion as he brought the katana down with controlled force. Mystic raised his weapon, but the attack was already within range, the kinetic blade slicing across him, cutting through his defences and tearing into his skin as the impact drove him downward.
His knee slammed into the pavement, his free hand catching himself against the ground, blood spilling beneath his fingers as his weapon nearly slipped from his grasp. His breathing became ragged, each breath dragging through his chest, his head hanging for a moment as droplets of blood fell from his face, striking the blackened ground one after another.
Karma landed nearby, his katana still raised, the blade humming with enough energy to finish the fight, while Mystic struggled to push himself upright, his arms trembling beneath him.
Smoke drifted between them, flames crackled around the courtyard, and the distant sound of sirens suddenly began to grow louder, approaching rapidly from beyond the school grounds.
The sirens grew closer, flashing lights appearing through the smoke as backup finally arrived, their footsteps and shouted commands echoing through the burning courtyard.
Karma lowered his weapon slightly, his attention shifting toward the arriving forces, while Elijah struggled to recover, her body flickering faintly as the last of her energy began to disappear.
"Oh, what the fuck. About time." He grunted because of the blade just left his skin.
Neither Elijah nor Karma seemed to realize how much energy they had already burned through, their bodies beginning to fade as the strain finally caught up with them.
In the confusion of the arriving backup, both of them vanished from the courtyard, leaving Mystic alone on his knees, blood pooling beneath him, his weapon resting against the ground as his vision slowly blurred, the flames becoming distant shapes, the sirens fading into a dull ringing, until everything around him dissolved into darkness.
Several hours later, the hospital room remained dim and quiet, the only light coming from the pale glow of the monitors beside the bed, their steady beeping cutting through the silence.
Mystic lay motionless beneath the sheets, bandages wrapped tightly around his head and torso, dried blood still visible along the edges, his breathing shallow, his fingers twitching slightly as consciousness slowly returned to him.
His eyes opened, unfocused at first, staring blankly at the ceiling before shifting toward the unfamiliar walls, the medical equipment, and the IV hanging beside him.
His body immediately felt heavy, every muscle aching as he tried to move, a sharp pain running through him, forcing his hand to tighten around the bedsheet as fragments of the fight returned, the burning courtyard, the blades, the blood, and the darkness.
The door opened quietly, footsteps approaching across the tiled floor, and Mystic slowly turned his head toward the sound. The doctor stepped into the room, carrying a small tablet beneath one arm, his expression changing slightly when he noticed Mystic was awake, before he moved closer to the bed and reached toward the controls.
"Oh, you're awake now. Don't move, you and Harold was given serious damage in the past few hours from the fight against the yandere killers." The doctor told him, placing a hand against his shoulder as Mystic tried to lift himself, gently but firmly pushing him back against the pillow.
Mystic's eyebrows tightened, his breathing becoming uneven as he stared at the doctor, confusion crossing his face while his hand slowly moved toward the bandages around his chest. The memories refused to line up properly, leaving gaps between the last moments he remembered and the hospital room he had suddenly awakened inside.
"Where am I." Mystic said, weakly, his voice barely carrying across the room as his eyes wandered toward the doorway, then toward the empty space beside his bed.
He slowly looked around, his gaze lingering on the other side of the room, where another bed could have easily been placed, yet there was nothing there, only an empty chair, a small table, and medical equipment standing silently against the wall.
His brow furrowed as he tried to push himself higher, only for the pain to force him back down, his fingers gripping the blanket while he stared at the empty room.
The doctor watched him for a moment, then pulled the nearby chair closer, sitting down beside the bed while checking the readings on the monitor. Mystic's eyes remained fixed on him, waiting, his breathing gradually settling as the doctor adjusted the IV and glanced over the injuries that had been carefully covered.
"You are in the hospital, the same one where you had an operation on that missing spleen of yours. Before you ask, yes a few people have visited. Your friends Luna and Visual have. Your mother also came to visit." The doctor explained, tapping the screen on the monitor before setting the tablet down beside him.
Mystic's eyes widened slightly at the mention of the visitors, his expression softening for only a moment before exhaustion settled over him again. He shifted beneath the sheets, trying to remember how long he had been unconscious, while the faint hum of the hospital equipment filled the silence around them, his eyelids growing heavier with every passing second.
The doctor stood from the chair, picking up his tablet and checking the room one last time, his gaze moving from Mystic to the monitors, then toward the doorway.
His shoulders lowered as he let out a tired sigh, his expression becoming more troubled as he glanced back at the injured student lying beneath the blankets. Mystic barely noticed him leaving, his eyes already closing, his breathing slowing as the exhaustion pulled him back under.
The last thing he could make out was the sound of the door opening, the doctor's footsteps fading down the hallway, and the steady rhythm of the machines beside him, before his thoughts disappeared once again, leaving the room quiet, the bed occupied by a student who had somehow become a hero without a license in Crime City.