As Emi and Night locked eyes, the tension was palpable. They began circling each other, the air between them charged with unspoken intent. Night’s movements were precise, her darkened eyes devoid of emotion.
“Those eyes… She’s not there,” Emi thought, her heart sinking. “The body came back, but not the soul. She’s being controlled like a mindless puppet.”
In a flash, Night disappeared from Emi’s line of sight, reappearing behind her. Emi spun around just in time, her instincts screaming at her to stay alert.
“I have to end this fast,” Emi thought, her mind racing. “If I hesitate, it’s over.”
Night gripped her dagger and shifted into a low, aggressive stance. The sheer menace radiating from her made Emi’s pulse quicken.
“Water Style: Mist Escape!” Emi thought, channeling her flux energy. A thick cloud of mist enveloped the area, giving her a chance to retreat. She sprinted through the cover of the mist, her senses on high alert.
But then the ground shook violently. Night’s dagger slashed through the mist, missing Emi by mere inches.
“She attacked through pure instinct!” Emi realized, panic creeping into her thoughts as she scrambled to her feet.
Night’s pursuit was relentless, her silent footsteps like a predator hunting prey. Emi veered sharply into a nearby parking garage, her boots echoing against the concrete. She ducked behind a column, her breathing heavy.
“Shit,” she thought, her eyes darting around for an escape. “If I use my Palace now, I’ll flood all of Moscow!”
Before she could come up with a plan, Night leaped into the same level of the parking garage, her form silhouetted against the faint light. Emi’s grip tightened around her tonfas.
“No choice,” she muttered to herself, charging toward Night.
Night stood motionless, her dagger glinting in the dim light. Emi threw a punch with her tonfas, aiming for Night’s torso. But Night moved with supernatural precision, blocking the strike with one hand. Emi followed up with a flurry of attacks, but Night parried each one effortlessly.
“She’s not even trying,” Emi thought, frustration bubbling within her.
Night’s counterattack came swift and brutal. She backhanded Emi across the face, the impact sending her stumbling backward.
Emi gritted her teeth and swept her leg low, attempting to trip Night. But Night anticipated the move, driving her dagger into the ground to block the sweep. Emi quickly transitioned into another strike, aiming for Night’s face, but Night caught her wrist with ease.
Before Emi could react, Night yanked her forward and slammed her forehead into Emi’s face in a devastating headbutt. Stars exploded in Emi’s vision as she staggered back, blood dripping from her nose.
“She’s overpowering me at every turn,” Emi thought, her body screaming in pain. “I have to come up with something—fast.”
But Night didn’t give her time to recover. She stepped forward, her movements cold and mechanical.
Night didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Emi by the arm and flung her out of the parking garage like a rag doll. Emi crashed to the ground, her body aching as she scrambled to her feet just in time to dodge Night’s follow-up strike.
Night closed the distance with terrifying speed, her attacks unrelenting. A devastating kick sent Emi flying into a wall, and before she could recover, Night’s elbow drove into her face, propelling her into a parked car. The car’s alarm blared as Emi groaned, barely able to move.
Night planted her foot against a nearby building, crouching like a coiled spring. The structure cracked under the pressure as she pushed off with incredible force, the sheer momentum sending the building’s façade crumbling toward Emi.
Emi rolled to the side just in time, avoiding the falling debris. Breathing heavily, she sprinted toward a building, climbing its side in a desperate attempt to escape. Night, relentless as ever, hurled chunks of debris after her, each piece tearing through the structure like paper.
A shadow loomed over Emi—a house, flung by Night, hurtling toward her. Emi’s eyes widened in panic, but a sudden explosion obliterated the massive object. The force sent her tumbling onto a rooftop. Before she could regain her footing, Night’s dagger streaked through the air, narrowly missing her head and embedding itself in the wall behind her.
Panting, Emi leaped through a broken window into the building and ducked into the shadows. She crouched low, trying to calm her racing heart as Night followed her inside, eerily quiet.
Night moved methodically, her eyes scanning the area. She caught sight of a chair spinning lightly in place. She approached it cautiously, only to find nothing. Her sharp gaze darted to the ceiling as the building’s sprinklers activated, spraying water everywhere.
Outside the building, Emi focused her flux energy. “Water Style: Water Pressure!” she thought, manipulating the water flooding the interior. The pipes burst, and the water surged through the structure with immense force, tearing it apart. The building began to collapse, its supports giving way.
Emi jumped from the crumbling building, falling toward the street below. “I know that didn’t kill her,” she thought grimly as she landed hard but rolled to her feet.
Her instincts were right. Night emerged from the rubble, leaping down with her dagger drawn. She descended with deadly precision, aiming to impale Emi.
At the last possible moment, Emi sidestepped the attack, narrowly avoiding the blade. The force of Night’s landing cracked the pavement, and both fighters now stood facing each other in the dim, narrow confines of a back alley.
The air was heavy with tension, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows over the two figures. Emi steadied her breathing, readying herself for the next round of this relentless battle. “I have to figure out a way to end this,” she thought, gripping her tonfas tightly. “Or it’s over for me.”
Night’s mind snapped back to the present as she locked eyes with Emi, standing across from her. For a fleeting moment, something unfamiliar flickered in her gaze. She watched Emi closely, and it was impossible not to notice the striking resemblance to someone from her past—the daughter she had left behind. The thought gnawed at her.
“What’s your mother’s name?” Night asked, her voice softening just slightly, her previously dark eyes now returning to their natural hue.
Emi, taken aback by the unexpected question, hesitated for a moment. “Kioko Saito,” she replied cautiously, her mind racing. The air between them felt charged, the tension building.
Night’s lips curled into a faint smile, though it was laced with something darker, more bittersweet. “Her last name is not Sora,” she muttered under her breath, almost to herself.
Suddenly, without warning, Night raised her dagger and drove it into her own head with a sickening, almost delicate precision.
Emi gasped in shock, unable to react in time. The once-unstoppable assassin fell to the ground, lifeless, her body crumpling without a sound.
As her form hit the earth, a soft, content smile remained frozen on her face.
“I’m glad for her,” Night whispered quietly, as though speaking to someone far away, before life drained from her completely.
Emi stood there in stunned silence, her body trembling from the sheer intensity of the moment. She had seen countless battles, but this… this was something she couldn’t have predicted. The woman before her had been far more than a puppet—she had been a person, torn between the bonds of the past and the harshness of the present. And now, in the quiet aftermath, Emi could only wonder what it was that had driven Night to such a tragic end.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
As Leon and Neo locked eyes, the tension in the room was palpable. Leon’s mind raced. “I planted cameras during his fight with Fadia. Destroying this body won’t kill him—that much I know. That’s why I uploaded the combat data to the computer. I need to understand his strategy, his next move. But first, I just need five minutes to stall.”
Neo studied Leon, his expression unreadable. “Out of all the elite force members, I can usually sense their thoughts, their intentions. But Leon’s mind… it’s like a fortress. A complete mystery. If I can’t predict his next move, I’ll have to match his pace, waiting for the right moment to strike,” Neo thought, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Suddenly, Neo broke the silence. “Leon, I have a different idea. How about we play a game?”
“A game?” Leon asked, his interest piqued. “What kind of game?”
Neo smirked. “We won’t fight each other—not yet. Let’s play chess.”
Leon scoffed, leaning back slightly. “Please. You’d lose the moment the first piece moved.”
Neo’s smirk widened into a grin. “Not just any chess. A three-dimensional chess game.”
Leon’s eyes narrowed. “And the stakes?”
“The loser… will ultimately die,” Neo replied, his tone calm yet chilling.
Leon let out a dry laugh. “High stakes, indeed. Fine. Let’s get started.”
Neo raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly, holographic chairs and a glowing, multi-layered chessboard materialized between them. The pieces shimmered, suspended in the air like spectral phantoms awaiting their commands.
Without another word, the two sat down, their gazes locked, and the game began.
The holographic board glowed with an otherworldly light, its three layers floating seamlessly in the air. Leon and Neo sat opposite each other, their faces lit by the shimmering pieces as they carefully assessed the battlefield. The stakes were clear: this wasn’t just a game—it was a war of minds, a clash of strategies that would end with one of them destroyed.
Leon stared at the board, his mind working like a machine. Every piece had a purpose, every layer a meaning. He had studied countless strategies in two-dimensional chess, but this? This was a battlefield that required mastery of spatial thinking and an understanding of his opponent’s psychology.
“Neo isn’t just playing to win,” Leon thought. “He’s playing to dismantle me. He thrives on control, on twisting the rules in his favor. But I know how he operates. His arrogance is his greatest weakness.”
Leon’s eyes flicked between the layers. The top plane was where Neo had placed his knights and queen, a classic offensive maneuver that prioritized overwhelming force. The middle plane was balanced, his rooks and pawns forming an impenetrable wall. The bottom layer, however, was sparse—Neo’s pawns were scattered, a deliberate tactic to bait Leon into overcommitting.
“He’s trying to lure me into the lower layer,” Leon realized. “But that’s exactly where I’ll turn the tables. I’ll use his bait against him.”
Leon moved his knight from the middle layer to the top, placing it in a position where it threatened Neo’s queen but also created a pathway for his bishop.
“Let’s see how he reacts to that,” Leon thought. “He’ll think it’s a trap—and he’ll waste time trying to counter it.”
Neo’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he watched Leon’s knight rise to the top layer. “Interesting,” he mused. “He’s trying to disrupt my queen’s positioning, but he’s not committing. Typical Leon—always trying to bait me into overanalyzing.”
Neo leaned back slightly, his fingers hovering over his rook on the middle layer. The move would be straightforward—defend the queen and threaten Leon’s knight. But Neo didn’t believe in straightforward moves.
“Leon’s greatest strength is his patience. He knows how to make you second-guess every step. If I play into his rhythm, I lose the advantage. No, I need to break his flow, force him to react to me instead.”
Neo glanced at the bottom layer, where his scattered pawns lay dormant. They were weak, but they served a purpose. He moved one pawn forward, ascending it to the middle layer. The holographic piece shimmered as it rose, now threatening Leon’s bishop.
“This will force him to adjust his strategy,” Neo thought. “And while he’s focused on the middle layer, I’ll seize control of the top.”
Leon watched the pawn ascend, a subtle but calculated move. “He’s trying to pull my attention to the middle layer. It’s a diversion—he wants me to overcommit here while he reinforces his attack on the top.”
But Leon wasn’t about to fall for it. Instead of reacting to the pawn, he moved his queen diagonally across the top layer, placing it in a position that not only protected his knight but also threatened Neo’s rook.
“This should create enough pressure to destabilize his offensive line. He’ll be forced to defend.”
Yet even as he made the move, Leon felt a pang of doubt. “No… Neo’s too smart to be distracted by a simple threat. He’ll see through this. I need to anticipate his counter before it even happens.”
Neo’s smirk deepened as Leon moved his queen. “Predictable. He’s trying to box me in, force me to defend my rook. But he doesn’t realize he’s left a gap in his own defense.”
Neo’s fingers hovered over his knight on the middle layer. With a decisive motion, he moved it to the top, directly challenging Leon’s queen. The holographic knight glowed as it ascended, its new position threatening not just the queen but also creating a pathway for Neo’s bishop.
“Checkmate is still far away,” Neo thought. “But with this move, I’ve tightened the noose. He’ll have to retreat or sacrifice a key piece. Either way, I gain control of the top layer.”
The game became a whirlwind of moves, each one meticulously calculated, each one probing the other’s mind.
“He’s focusing on the top layer too heavily. If I can isolate his king on the middle plane, I can pin him down. But to do that, I’ll need to sacrifice a pawn—and he’ll know it’s deliberate. The question is, will he take the bait?” Leon thought
Leon moved a pawn forward on the bottom layer, creating a direct path to Neo’s king on the middle plane.
“A sacrifice. He’s trying to funnel me into the middle layer. But why? What’s his endgame? If I counter this, I might walk into a trap—but if I don’t, he gains too much momentum.” Neo thought
Neo responded by moving his rook to block the pawn, tightening his defenses on the middle plane.
As the game progressed, both players began to feel the strain. Every move drained a sliver of their energy, the holographic board pulsing with the intensity of their mental duel.
Leon’s strategy was clear—force Neo to spread his forces thin across all three layers. Neo, in turn, sought to consolidate power, maintaining control of the top layer while gradually advancing on the middle.
Finally, after dozens of moves, Leon saw his opportunity. His queen descended from the top layer to the middle, supported by a rook and knight. The holographic pieces aligned perfectly, their combined threat forming an inescapable trap.
Neo’s eyes narrowed. He studied the board, his mind racing. “There’s no escape. He’s boxed me in. I didn’t see it until now, but every move he made was leading to this moment. Checkmate.”
The board flickered, the pieces dissolving into light as the game ended. Leon leaned back, his face expressionless but his mind triumphant. Neo sat still, his smirk gone.
“Outplayed,” Neo thought. “But this isn’t over. Not yet.”
Leon’s eyes met Neo’s across the table. No words were exchanged, but the intensity between them spoke volumes. They both knew this game was just the beginning of their battle—an intellectual war that neither could afford to lose.
“Good game, Leon,” Neo said, his voice calm despite the loss.
“Yes. So die,” Leon replied coldly.
Neo’s body began to tremble, a mechanical laugh escaping his lips as he suddenly exploded, sending shards of his metallic frame scattering across the room. Leon stood still, watching the destruction without flinching.
“That was truly a fun game,” a familiar voice echoed behind him.
Leon’s eyes widened as he spun around. Standing there was Neo—again. His new body gleamed with a more advanced metallic design, sharp and imposing.
“How?” Leon asked, his voice laced with both frustration and disbelief.
“I didn’t delete my AI when you killed me,” Neo said, his voice dripping with amusement. “I merely transitioned. As one body died, I created another. Think of me as Neo 2.0—better, faster, smarter.”
Leon’s expression darkened as he noticed the faint beep from his communicator. The data download was complete. Without hesitation, he turned and bolted toward the exit.
Neo tilted his head in confusion. “He’s running? Strange. Wait…” His eyes narrowed as he pieced it together. “He downloaded my files. He’ll know my plans.”
Neo’s new body sprang into action, chasing after Leon. The corridors of the base echoed with metallic footsteps as robotic sentries emerged from hidden compartments, blocking Leon’s path.
“Ice Style: Demon’s Cold!” Leon thought, his voice commanding even in his mind. Slamming his foot down, a pulse of freezing energy radiated from him, coating the entire base floor in frost. The robots froze in place, their movements grinding to a halt as the cold seized their joints.
Leon didn’t waste a moment. Drawing his sais, he moved like a whirlwind, slashing through the immobilized robots, their metallic frames shattering into shards.
Before he could catch his breath, Neo appeared in front of him, moving at inhuman speed. Leon clenched his fists, his mind racing. Neo lunged at him, but Leon threw a small device onto the ground.
In an instant, the device activated, opening a glowing portal. Without hesitation, Leon sprinted through it just as Neo reached out to grab him. Neo stopped, staring at the portal as it began to destabilize.
“NO!” Neo roared, realizing what was happening. He dove toward it, but the portal collapsed before he could step through.
“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” Neo screamed, his voice echoing through the frozen base as he pounded the ground in frustration.
Leon stumbled out of the portal, collapsing to the ground. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his body trembling from exertion.
“Leon, I’ve got the machine,” Rex’s voice crackled over the comms.
Leon steadied himself, forcing calm into his voice. “Understood. I’ll send a plane to pick you up. Hold your position.”
Meanwhile, Baluka sprinted through the ruins of the city, her bow drawn tight. She skidded to a stop when she spotted Destiny standing over a terrified man. Destiny’s pale face twisted into a grin, his sharp teeth glinting in the faint light as he leaned closer to his victim.
Baluka fired an arrow, the projectile cutting through the air with precision. Destiny moved faster, his hand snapping out to grab the arrow mid-flight.
“You’re finally here,” he said, his voice a low growl. He tossed the arrow aside, his eyes locking on her.
Baluka’s steps were slow and deliberate as she approached him, her bow still in hand. “Let’s end this, Yeager,” she said, her voice steady, carrying both anger and resolve.
Destiny grinned wider, baring his teeth. “Gladly.”