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Chapter 21 – Shadows and Scars
The clang of steel echoed through the hollowed skeleton of Sector 7's abandoned construction site. Long-forgotten cranes loomed overhead like rusted sentinels while the scaffolding trembled from each impact. A tattered banner advertising "La Jar Tower – Opening Soon!" swayed in the dusk wind, barely clinging to its cables.
Frank's breath came heavy and hot, fogging the chilled air. Sweat lined his brow, trickling down his temple as Spike's clones darted in and out like flickering mirages. Their movements were rapid—calculated, but chaotic enough to mask her real self.
He gritted his teeth and gripped a loose metal pole lying among the rubble. With one swift motion, he hurled it like a javelin at an oncoming clone.
FWSHHHH!
The clone burst into faint shimmer, scattering like mist on impact.
Spike, observing from a beam above, narrowed her eyes.
"How does he know which ones are fake?" she muttered, genuinely puzzled.
Frank didn't wait to answer. Instead, he pivoted—his boots grinding against concrete—and prepared to meet her next strike. Chains rattled in the wind like metallic serpents as Spike descended with her scythe spinning in a vicious arc.
CLANG—CLATTER!
The force of the impact sparked on the ground near Frank's legs.
"Tch... I'm getting real tired of those chains," he spat, trying to dodge—but something was wrong.
He felt it before he saw it.
Huh...? His eyes snapped downward.
From his own shadow, a wispy, blackened substance coiled tightly around his ankles like oil-drenched vines, pinning him in place. The pavement under him shimmered slightly.
"Astrid now!?" Roi barked as he glanced back, startled.
Out of the gloom behind Frank, Astrid emerged like a phantom—her blade's flat side aimed at his neck.
Frank's eyes widened. Damn it!
But even before the impact could land, two flickers of light burst from his shoulders—clones, identical in frame and presence, intercepting both Astrid and Spike's coordinated attacks.
"Wha—!?" Astrid barely had time to exclaim when—
TCHONK!
—A metallic foot collided with her blade, sending a shiver of recoil up her arms. She stumbled back, barely keeping her balance.
From a hidden perch across the scaffolding, Bill's eyes lit up behind his tech lenses.
"Truly fascinating," he whispered, recording every second. His drone hovered silently above the chaos, transmitting footage to a holo-display on his arm.
He doesn't just mimic techniques. He's replicating the mana attributes behind them... like a direct copy of their essence, Bill thought, awestruck.
Suddenly—
"What the!?" Roi blurted.
Frank, now freed, spun and swung the broken rod toward him.
FSHHHH...
But before it could land, his arm locked mid-motion.
THRUMMM...
Roi's eyes glinted as he held up his palm, his ability gripping Frank's movement like an invisible bind.
"Forget I could do this?" Frank growled. A smirk danced on his lips. He yanked hard on the scythe's chain still wrapped near him, dragging Spike toward him.
The two clones flared again—attempting to activate—but—
THROB.
"Gurrrgh!" Frank grunted, clutching his chest. Pain surged through every joint, like fire racing across his nerves.
Chains whistled through the air again.
He staggered backward, narrowly evading them, but barely staying upright.
"Must be... cooldown... or maybe I overexerted the ability," he thought through gritted teeth, breathing hard. Feels like I just got hit by a train.
From behind a pillar, Spike eyed him carefully.
"Bill?" she asked calmly, wiping sweat from her temple.
Bill's holographic scans spiked with red.
"Readings suggest fatigue. He's nearing his limit."
"Heh..." Spike twirled her scythe and stepped forward. "In the end, it's always down to you and me."
Frank raised an eyebrow, his breathing uneven.
"If that's your way of flirting... I'm not sold."
"Oh, that is my way," she replied slyly.
SHNK!
A sharp prick against his back. His eyes widened.
He twisted just enough to see it—one of her clones dissolving with a satisfied grin, a glinting needle embedded in his lower spine.
THROB.
"Urrgh..." His knees gave way, the strength leaving him. He fell to one knee, then both.
"It won't kill you... just make you pass out," Spike said softly as she approached, bruises marking her forearms and cheek.
"Finally," Roi sighed, wiping blood from his brow. "We got him."
Spike looked down at Frank. "While you were dancing with us, we were calculating your moves. Anticipating outcomes."
Frank wheezed a laugh. "How... how well did that really work out for you?"
She crouched. "Well enough for a rematch."
"Come on, not here," Astrid warned, glancing nervously. "We need to move. Authorities might show."
"Jarvis is freakin' unconscious!" Roi added, pointing to the large man slumped beside some crates.
Spike stood. "Relax. Just making things even. After all..." She looked down at Frank, her voice low. "He's soon gonna be one of us. According to Jack."
THWACK!
A sharp smack echoed. Frank's head jerked sideways, falling flat onto his back.
His vision danced. His thoughts blurred.
'One of them...?' he wondered. 'What's at play here... and why can't I... move my skill... or my limbs?'
THWACK! Another hit.
"Here we go again with Spike being like that..." Roi muttered, turning to check on Jarvis.
SSHHHHH...
A faint sound broke the tension.
"Is he... snoring?" Roi blinked in disbelief.
"Seriously?" Astrid chuckled. "Just leave him be. Might've needed that blow."
Spike finally stood, exhaling deeply. "Let's move, Bill."
As Bill packed up his gear, Frank's hand twitched.
In a blur, he lunged forward, sweeping Spike's leg—and grabbing Bill in a chokehold, dagger at her neck.
"No one moves!" he barked.
Astrid flinched. "Whoa—!"
CRACK!
Frank crumpled. Unconscious again.
Jarvis towered behind him, fist still raised. "How long was I out?"
"Long enough to snore," Roi replied flatly.
"Huh... explains the headache." Jarvis rubbed the back of his skull.
"Just grab him. We're done here," Spike ordered.
Bill walked past Astrid, murmuring, "That skill... could change everything. He fights like a novice, but with instincts of a warrior."
Astrid touched the bruise on her cheek, wincing. "Didn't expect us all to take hits from one guy..."
PHFFT!
A soft burst—like air punctured through dense flesh.
Everyone froze.
Eyes wide, they turned.
Jarvis knelt on the floor.
A dark hole now marred his forehead.
Blood trickled freely down his face and pooled under his twitching form.
Behind him, a tall figure stood—gun raised.
A glowing barrel shimmered faintly with neon blue etchings and a dull hum.
"Jarvis?!" Spike called out in horror.