The underground tunnel stretched endlessly before them, damp and silent except for the soft splashes of their footsteps against the stone. Flickering light from Uwe’s lantern barely pushed back the darkness, casting jagged shadows along the ancient walls. He walked steadily, his eyes scanning for anything unusual, but his senses remained sharp—not just for threats lurking in the tunnels, but also for the man beside him.

Veynor moved differently. There was something unnatural about how lightly he stepped, his presence like a whisper against the tunnel floor. His gaze darted from wall to wall, studying the structure with an obsessive hunger. His fingers twitched at his sides as though he wanted to scrape at the stones, pry them loose, and pocket them like rare gems.

“Strange place to be sentimental about,” Uwe muttered, noticing Veynor’s stare. “You look like you want to carve your name into the walls.”

Veynor chuckled, a low, slithering sound. “Sentiment is for fools. What matters is possession. This place? It’s filled with things waiting to be claimed—knowledge, artifacts, history.” His fingers flexed. “And the ones who find them first get to decide what’s valuable and what’s forgotten.”

Uwe rolled his shoulders, keeping his tone neutral. “You sound like you want to own the whole world.”

Veynor smiled, sharp and thin. “Own it? No. Control it? Yes.” His voice dropped to something more intimate, like a merchant whispering a trade secret. “Everything in this world is an asset—people, power, wealth. Those who fail to keep what they’ve taken are doomed to lose everything. It’s why I never let anything slip from my grasp.”

Uwe exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “So you hoard everything? What good is clinging to something if you don’t use it?”

Veynor’s expression twitched, a flicker of something darker crossing his face before his usual composed smirk returned. “It’s not about use. It’s about control. Once you let go of something, it’s no longer yours. And if it’s no longer yours, it can be used against you.”

Uwe regarded him for a long moment. “Sounds exhausting.”

Veynor chuckled again. “Only for those who don’t have the discipline to hold on.”

Their conversation was cut short as a distant rumble coursed through the ground beneath them. Uwe’s head snapped up, his body instinctively tensing. The rumble grew louder, deep and ominous, like the belly of the earth had just been struck with a hammer.

Then, in a split second, the explosion hit.

The tunnel shuddered violently as a deafening boom roared from somewhere deeper within the ruins. Dust and debris rained from above, the walls cracking, the air instantly thick with the scent of burning stone. Uwe barely had time to brace himself before the shockwave knocked him off balance. He caught himself against the wall, heart hammering.

Veynor, still standing with eerie steadiness, simply smirked and whispered, “And just like that… something valuable is slipping from someone’s grasp.”

Veynor’s fist shot forward, aiming straight for Uwe’s torso, but Uwe was faster. He twisted his body just in time, dodging the lethal strike as Veynor’s punch smashed into the stone wall behind him, leaving a deep crater.

Uwe took a step back, his stance shifting as his red and blue eyes glowed faintly in the dim tunnel. A sharp exhale escaped his lips. "You were planning this from the start, huh?" His tone was calm, but his muscles were tensed, ready for the next attack.

Veynor turned his head slightly, his grin widening. "Of course. You and the rest of your little group aren’t valuable assets, you lack the proper understanding of worth." His fingers flexed, cracking his knuckles as he slowly withdrew his hand from the broken wall. "Things only belong to those strong enough to keep them. And I—" He took a step forward. "—don’t like sharing."

The underground air felt heavier. Small bits of dust trickled from the ceiling, unsettled by the sheer force of their exchange. Uwe didn't bother glancing up. His mismatched eyes were locked onto Veynor, analyzing every twitch, every breath.

Veynor’s smirk didn’t waver, but a shadow of irritation flickered in his eyes. He took a slow step forward, rolling his shoulders as if shrugging off the question. “Why did you know that the disappearances led to this tunnel?” His voice was silky, smooth, yet laced with quiet menace. “I thought we were doing a good job.”

Uwe remained unfazed, his mismatched eyes—one glowing red, the other an icy blue—staring straight into Veynor’s own. He let out a small chuckle, tilting his head slightly. “Simple,” he said, his voice carrying an edge of amusement. “Singularität.”

Uwe lifted a hand, tapping the side of his head with two fingers. “My Singularität is more cunning than you could ever imagine.” His mismatched eyes gleamed in the dim tunnel light. He let his hand drop, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You thought you covered your tracks well, didn’t you?”

Then, Veynor let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Singularität, huh? Always ruining the fun,” he mused, his voice eerily casual. But his fingers curled ever so slightly, a hunter measuring his prey.

Uwe didn’t shift his stance, but his gaze sharpened. “It’s what lets me see the difference between truth and deception.” He exhaled, cracking his knuckles. “And right now, I’m seeing a whole lot of deception from you.”

Veynor grinned. “Then let’s see if you can keep up.”

And in an instant, he lunged.

Their fists collided with the force of thunderclaps, sending shockwaves through the tunnel walls. Uwe and Veynor moved like blurs, exchanging devastating blows as they tore through layers of thick rock. Each impact shattered the stone around them, carving new paths through the underground labyrinth.

Veynor swung a brutal right hook, forcing Uwe to dodge as the force of the punch blasted a hole clean through the tunnel wall. Not missing a beat, Uwe retaliated with a lightning-fast counter, his fist sinking into Veynor’s ribs, sending him crashing through another layer of rock. But the moment Veynor emerged from the dust, his grin was wider than before—his eyes wild with exhilaration.

“You’re quite the asset yourself, Uwe,” Veynor sneered, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “Too bad I’ll be adding you to my collection soon.”

Uwe scoffed, cracking his knuckles. “Try it, hoarder.”

Then, without hesitation, they lunged at each other once more, fists colliding, forcing them deeper and deeper into the tunnels—tunneling through solid stone with nothing but their sheer strength.

Their battle raged like an unstoppable force, tearing through the underground ruins. Each punch sent them crashing through thick stone walls, leaving trails of destruction in their wake. Dust and debris filled the air as the two figures tore through ancient structures, their bodies mere blurs amidst the crumbling tunnels.

As they traded blows, Veynor’s voice remained eerily composed, a sinister smirk curling his lips. “You know, Uwe, you ignored my idea–so hear it clearly as I tell you again,” he said between strikes, his fist narrowly grazing Uwe’s jaw before slamming into a pillar behind him, shattering it into rubble. "Everything in this world exists to be owned. Strength, riches, territory… even human lives.”

Uwe’s red and blue eyes gleamed in the dim light as he dodged, twisting mid-air before driving his knee into Veynor’s stomach, launching him through another wall. “Tch. Don't you think it’s unnecessary to tell me your rotten point twice?” Uwe growled, stepping through the hole he’d just created.

Veynor coughed but laughed, brushing the dust off his clothes like it was nothing. “Rotten? No, no. I’m simply realistic. People are resources to be managed and to be used efficiently. The strong hold the reins; the weak serve their purpose. It’s all just a matter of proper allocation.”

Uwe’s expression darkened, his fingers clenching into fists so tight that his knuckles cracked. “You’re talking about human lives like they’re numbers on a ledger,” he snarled, rushing forward.

Veynor met his charge with a wicked grin, weaving around Uwe’s punch and countering with a heavy blow to his ribs. “And? What else are they?”

Something snapped in Uwe at those words. His red eye glowed dangerously as he grabbed Veynor mid-motion, twisting his arm and slamming him into the ground with enough force to send a spiderweb of cracks through the stone floor.

“You bastard,” Uwe spat, his voice carrying an edge of raw fury. “People ain’t some inventory you can tally up! You think you own everything you see? You think life’s just something you can hoard like treasure?”

Veynor groaned but chuckled, his voice filled with amusement even as he wiped blood from his mouth. “If I don’t own it, someone else will. That’s how the world works, Uwe. Control or be controlled.”

Uwe’s fists trembled at his sides, his breath heavy with rage. “You make me sick.”

Without waiting for another word, he lunged at Veynor again, fists flying, sending both of them crashing through yet another ancient wall.

Veynor's laughter echoed through the ruins as he staggered to his feet, shaking off the force of Uwe's last punch. Blood stained the corner of his lips, but the sinister grin never left his face. He wiped his mouth with a cold, calculated calm, as if the damage was a mere inconvenience.

"You know," Veynor began, his voice slick with malice, "the Ident grade 5 that's in your team... she seems quite cute." His eyes gleamed with amusement as he regarded Uwe, sensing the shift in the air. "A little innocent thing. She’d make a great addition to my collection. Such a delicate mind, easy to shape into something more... useful."

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Uwe’s eyes flared with a furious red light as his fists clenched tighter, his muscles coiling with rage. His heart pounded in his chest, the anger surging like a storm, but he fought it back—barely. He took a slow, steady breath, trying to control the rising tide of fury that threatened to consume him.

"Don’t you dare talk about her like that," Uwe growled, his voice low and dangerous. He took a step forward, eyes locked on Veynor. "A twisted person like you doesn’t deserve someone like her."

Veynor raised an eyebrow, as though enjoying the reaction. He stepped back, his smirk widening, and even though Uwe’s restraint was visibly strained, the undercurrent of amusement in Veynor’s eyes was unmistakable. "Oh, don’t worry, Uwe. I’m not interested in your feelings about her. It’s a business decision. After all, I always make the right investments."

Uwe’s anger hit. He didn’t wait another second. With a guttural roar, he surged forward, his fist swinging with a force that cracked the very air around him. The punch landed squarely on Veynor’s chest, sending him flying through another stone wall, deeper into the underground ruins.

Veynor groaned from the rubble, his body half-buried beneath the collapsed stone. The impact had sent shockwaves through the ancient ruins, and dust still hung heavy in the air. Yet, despite the pain, he let out a low chuckle, his voice echoing in the dimly lit cavern.

Uwe cracked his knuckles, stepping forward with slow, deliberate steps. His red and blue eyes gleamed with barely contained fury. “Stand up,” he ordered, his voice sharp as steel. “Your mouth needs a little teaching before talking about juvenile stuff.”

Veynor exhaled sharply, pushing himself upright. He dusted off his coat, wincing slightly but still grinning like he was enjoying this. “Juvenile?” he mused, tilting his head. “Oh, You act so high and mighty, but deep down, you know I’m right. Power is what decides everything. You could pretend all you want, but the strong always take, and the wea—”

He didn’t get to finish.

Uwe closed the distance in a blink, his fist smashing into Veynor’s face with bone-rattling force. The air cracked with the impact as Veynor was launched backwards, skidding across the stone floor before slamming into another crumbling pillar.

This time, he didn’t laugh right away. Blood dripped from his nose, and he wiped it away, his golden eyes narrowing. “Heh… Alright, I’ll admit, that one hurt.”

Uwe rolled his shoulders, his expression dark. “Good. There’s more where that came from.”

Veynor pushed himself up, rolling his neck with an audible pop. Then, with a sharp exhale, his smirk returned. “Then, by all means,” he said, arms open, “teach me.”

Uwe didn’t need to be told twice. With another surge forward, the battle resumed—more brutal than before, shaking the underground ruins to their very foundations.

The underground ruin trembled with the force of battle. Stone crumbled from the ceilings, and the air was thick with dust and the deafening echoes of steel clashing against unseen force.

Adrek moved like a storm, his two massive Montante swords carving through the air with deadly precision. His strikes were relentless—each swing carrying enough force to cleave through solid rock. Yet, no matter how fast or how fiercely he attacked, his blades never met flesh. Instead, they were intercepted mid-air by something invisible, a force beyond sight but undeniable in strength.

Harriet stood firm, his golden eyes gleaming in the flickering light, his unseen hands parrying every brutal strike effortlessly. Adrek gritted his teeth, stepping back for just a moment before lunging again, his twin swords sweeping in a deadly arc.

CLANG!

The sound reverberated as Harriet’s spectral hands deflected the attack once more. Then, with terrifying speed, Harriet countered.

A barrage of fists rained down on Adrek. The unseen force struck like a hurricane—fist after fist slamming into his body, ribs, shoulders, chest, and gut. Each impact sent shockwaves ripping through the air, cracking the stone beneath their feet, distorting the very atmosphere around them.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The pressure was suffocating. Adrek’s breath was forced from his lungs as he staggered back, his body jolting under the relentless assault. His vision blurred, blood pooling in his mouth from the internal damage. But even as Harriet’s onslaught seemed unstoppable, Adrek refused to go down.

Harriet’s hands shot forward, unseen fingers wrapping around Adrek’s throat like the grip of death itself. He squeezed. Hard.

For a moment, it seemed like this would be the end. Adrek's body trembled, his feet barely touching the ground as the force lifted him. The air around his throat warped under the pressure, his breath hitching as the invisible grip tightened. His vision darkened, veins straining against his skin. His swords dropped slightly from his hands.

Yet, despite it all—despite the terror pressing into his windpipe, despite the violent tremors racking his body—Adrek’s lips curled into a wild grin.

Then—

SLAM!

His boots dug into the ground, his muscles flexing like coiled steel. In an instant, his swords shot up, and the very moment Harriet attempted to crush his throat completely—

SNAP!

With raw, monstrous strength, Adrek wrenched himself free from the invisible grasp, twisting his body in a blur. A single step, and he was behind Harriet, one montante blade crashing down with the force of a landslide.

Meanwhile, in the background—chaos erupted on an even greater scale.

Jelle and Hauke clashed with Barbel, and their battle was nothing short of cataclysmic.

Jelle’s wooden sword, though seemingly humble, carved through the air like a divine instrument, each swing tearing through the battlefield with crushing force. Hauke danced through the destruction, his blade moving like the wind, slicing through anything in its path.

And then there was Barbel.

Standing amidst the carnage, her long coat billowed like a specter’s shroud, her intricate silver embroidery catching the faint glow of the underground ruins. A single wave of her hand sent shockwaves spiraling outward, turning solid stone into dust, and sending shattered debris flying like bullets. She did not falter. She did not retreat.

BOOM!

The entire cavern trembled. Rubble fell from above. Columns collapsed.

Barbel raised her hand, explosion crackling through the air like a living storm, and with a single flick of her wrist, she sent a colossal surge of shockwave barreling toward Jelle and Hauke—

The battlefield was a maelstrom of destruction, and amidst it all, Harriet and Adrek were locked in a deadly clash, neither willing to yield.

As the cavern trembled from the chaos of battle, Adrek's body suddenly convulsed, his muscles bulging unnaturally. A sickening crack echoed through the underground, followed by the grotesque sound of flesh and bone twisting and tearing. From his back, two new arms ripped their way into existence—veins pulsing, fingers twitching as if testing their newfound freedom.

Harriet's golden eyes widened. What—

Before he could react, Adrek lunged, his four arms moving like a whirlwind. Two montante blades swung in unison, while his newly formed arms struck out with raw, brutal force. The sheer speed of his assault shattered the ground beneath him, sending dust and debris flying.

Harriet barely had time to throw up his unseen hands.

CLANG! CLANG! BOOM!

The collision sent out a shockwave so strong that it blasted away loose rubble, carving deep fissures into the earth. Harriet gritted his teeth as he strained against the overwhelming pressure. Even with his telekinetic force holding the blades back, Adrek’s monstrous strength was undeniable. His strikes were heavier, faster—utterly relentless.

“You thought you had me figured out?” Adrek sneered, his voice laced with savage glee. “You think those little phantom hands can stop me now?!”

His newly formed fists shot forward. Harriet blocked the first, but the second slipped past his guard—

BAM!

A fist drove into Harriet’s stomach like a sledgehammer, sending him flying backwards, crashing through a pillar. He gasped as the impact forced the air from his lungs. But before he could recover, Adrek was already upon him, his four arms moving like a beast possessed.

Harriet barely dodged as twin blades carved through the air, missing his throat by inches. He twisted, unseen hands pulling at the earth to launch himself upward. But Adrek’s extra limbs gave him a terrifying advantage—one sword still swinging while the other arms reached out and—

SNAP!

Adrek grabbed Harriet by the ankle.

With a triumphant snarl, he slammed Harriet into the ground.

BOOM!

The impact cratered the stone beneath them. Dust and shattered rock exploded outward. Harriet coughed, pain flaring through his body. But even as Adrek raised him again for another devastating blow, Harriet’s golden eyes burned.

Not yet.

His unseen hands lashed out.

In an instant, dozens of spectral fists hammered into Adrek’s body from every direction. His ribs cracked. His muscles screamed under the assault. Yet, through it all—through the brutal barrage—Adrek laughed.

Adrek’s grip tightened around Harriet’s ankle, his monstrous strength threatening to shatter bone. But just as he swung Harriet down for another devastating impact, Harriet's unseen hands burst outward like a shockwave.

BOOM!

The sheer force of the telekinetic blast sent Adrek skidding backwards, his four arms instinctively guarding his face. Harriet flipped midair, twisting like a phantom, and landed gracefully on the cracked stone floor, golden eyes burning with fierce determination.

Adrek let out a sharp breath, flexing his new limbs. “Clever.” He rolled his shoulders, his extra arms twitching. “But that was your last trick, wasn’t it?”

Harriet didn’t answer. Instead, his unseen hands coiled around him like a storm, the air itself trembling from the sheer force of his will.

Adrek smirked and surged forward, twin Montante blades carving through the air like scythes of death. Harriet dodged left, but Adrek’s new arms lashed out with brute strength, aiming to crush him.

WHAM!

Harriet ducked under the blow, his spectral hands pushing against the ground, launching himself up and over Adrek’s shoulder. Midair, Harriet twisted and unleashed a devastating barrage of telekinetic fists, each strike hitting like a cannonball.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Adrek staggered, his chest caving under the relentless blows. But instead of falling, he grinned.

"Not bad," he said, blood dripping from his mouth. Then, with terrifying speed, he whipped one of his blades backwards.

Harriet barely had time to react—

SHINK!

A thin cut appeared across his cheek.

A single drop of blood fell.

Adrek’s grin widened. "You bleed."

Harriet’s jaw clenched.

Then the cavern shook.

In the background, Jelle and Hauke clashed with Barbel, their battle an all-out war of destruction. Blades flashed, the very walls cracked under their attacks, and the sheer force of their fight sent shockwaves through the whole ruins.

But Harriet had no time to look.

Adrek roared and charged again.

And Harriet met him head-on.