An explosive dust cloud rolls into the afternoon sky, and Jayson, battered and bruised, leaps, rolls, and dodges sharp and blunt metal projectiles that Mortimer is lobbing at him. Jayson whacks one jagged metal piece away, which gets lodged in a wall, and across the street, Lexia is sipping a strawberry milkshake, wearing sunglasses, an umbrella hat, and her armor, watching Mortimer and Jayson fight.
“You can help any time, Lexia!” shouts Jayson.
“I could, but he's not on my side and I have a milkshake,” says Lexia.
Mortimer throws a car at Jayson. The time dilation aura disappears as Jayson uses the vehicle as a vaulting board, rolls into the air and attempts to kick Mortimer, but the kick is blocked and Jayson rolls his landing, just to hop away when Mortimer lunges at him with his claws out. All while the car he threw flips, rolls, and crashes next to Lexia. She looks at the wreckage, then at her milkshake.
“Good thing I have a lid,” says Lexia.
Jayson hops away from Mortimer again, evades a chunk of metal, and charges him again.
Mortimer's electromagnetic glove crackles with energy as he summoned a metal pole to deflect Jayson's strike just in time. The impact releases a burst of aura and Mortimer staggers back, but he regains his composure and launches a frenzied attack at Jayson. Their weapons clash in a series of precise movements, pushing each other back as they engaged in a fierce, calculated battle. The intensity of their duel only escalated with each exchange.
Jayson's heart thumps against his chest as they block, counter, and parry with remarkable skill. Jayson's powerful strikes send shockwaves rippling through the surroundings, causing the very air to tremble. Despite the distortions in time around them, the aura of dilation weakens under the strain on Jayson's part until it fades entirely. This allows Mortimer to match Jayson move for move in their fight.
And while this happens, Lexia keeps drinking her milkshake, watching the fight with a camcorder in her hand.
Despite the pain in his chest and the throbbing in his limbs, Jayson deflects and blocks Mortimer's strikes. Mortimer uses his electromagnetic glove to rip out a lamp post and swings it at Jayson. Jayson jumps over it, the pole crashes into the building next to Lexia and her milkshake runs out.
Jayson then screams in a mix of pain and annoyance, and a strong burst of blue aura erupts from his weapon, bringing time to a crawl, and he whacks Mortimer. A slow moving shockwave erupts, and the strike sends him flying in the air slowly with rubble. Once he and the shock wave exit the aura bubble, he soars across the street and into the upper floor of the building behind Lexia while the environment rattles around them. Then Jayson drops to his knee, wheezing and clutching his heart, and he glares at Lexia, sweat dripping off his nose and darkening his clothes.
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“Thanks for your help!” yells Jayson.
“You're welcome,” replies Lexia.
The door to the building behind Lexia is kicked open, and Mortimer steps out, suit torn, body covered in bruises and cuts. The fox is growling with bristled fur, and his gloves spark. This makes Jayson groan and press his head against his weapon.
“Of course you don't stay down,” says Jayson.
“You have no idea how much I hate you, right now,” says Mortimer.
“Hate is bad for the soul,” says Jayson.
“Spare me your sermon!”
Lexia then jumps up and grins brightly with hearts in her eyes. “Hi, Mortimer!”
Mortimer’s posture droops. “Oh no.”
Lexia slides next to Mortimer and grips his arm tightly. “So, about the whole dinner date at the Crystal Plate... Can we relive the magic?”
“No.”
Lexia traces Mortimer's chest and face with her finger. “How about telling me what you know about Ramsey Prosper? For old time's sake?”
“No. Now get out of the way so I can go back to killing the Hobo.”
“Failing to kill the Hobo,” says Jayson.
“Shut up! I will kill you!” snarls Mortimer.
Lexia links her arms around Mortimer's neck and smirks seductively at him.
“Ignore him and give me attention. If you tell me where Ramsey Prosper is, this Amazonian will buy you dinner plus more,” says Lexia with a sultry.
Mortimer pries Lexia off, using his electromagnetic gloves’ abilities to lift her by her armor. When she is a few feet in the air, he drops her on her rump.
“Lady, I literally don't care about you. I'm supposed to kill you and him, and both of you won't die and you're really stressing me out! Do you not understand how demanding this job is? Especially for someone in my position!” says Mortimer.
“Ah, yes. I love it when the hitman hired to kill me tries to make me feel bad for him. Tugs on my heart every time,” says Jayson.
“Fixer, Jayson. I'm a fixer. Hitman is an ugly word.
Lexia sniffles, and Jayson and Mortimer look at her, noticing her ears dropped and her brown eyes are wide, wet, and bloodshot.
“You don't care about me?” whimpers Lexia.
“No. I've been hired to kill you and your hobo boyfriend. Why is this hard for you to understand?” says Mortimer.
“So, you're saying all those nice things you said to me was a lie? All those wonderful nights were a farce? A deception for your sick game!?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You said I looked pretty! But that was a lie! I'm hideous and you being nice was just a prank!” wails Lexia.
Mortimer tugs at his hair. “Oh my God, when did I say you looked pretty, you psychopathic patchwork of fur!”
“PATCHWORK!?”
Lexia leaps to her feet and runs away, sobbing. Mortimer stares at her with a confused sneer, her form shrinking as the distance rapidly grows between them. When Lexia rounds a corner, her sobs echoing in the dying sprawl, Jayson scoffs.
“Good job, dinkus. You made Lexia cry,” says Jayson.
Mortimer looks at Jayson, holding his sneer. “What?”
“You hurt her feelings. Now she's crying.”
“Oh, I hurt her feelings? What about my feelings!? Did you ever think about my feelings, Jayson!?”
“Who cares about your feelings.”
“I care! I'm the one under stress here! It's hard being a fixer for Mama Bear!”
“Oh boo hoo. Nobody cares your sob story, Morty!”
Mortimer's eye twitches. His hands snap out. An electric storms erupt from his gloves, creating electromagnetic fields that manipulate all the metal around him and the stench of ozone radiates from the cooked air. Then everything goes white as a burst of unstable electricity surges out in every direction.