This thing, whatever it was, was the most irritating enemy he had faced so far.

Not the strongest not by a long shot. While Sylvester hadn't managed to hit it once, the same went for his enemy. They were still maintaining a perfect choreography where neither of them got hurt at any point.

Instant defeat by looking at him sounded powerful until you realized that he could overcome that power just by closing his eyes.

But it was irritating as hell.

Precisely because of that. Because no matter what he did, he always missed the fucker.

He couldn't see it, smell it. Fuck, couldn't even hear it. The only thing he could hear was that damn breathing, but not how the enemy's body moved to dodge his attacks.

The best thing he had to predict the enemy's movements was his own sword.

He meant, when he attacked the ways it could dodge his attacks were limited, after all. He could try to push it where he wanted it that way.

And he could feel it, too, in a way. In a way that escaped common sense, like his conviction that he would be lost as soon as he opened his eyes, or his whole life in general.

It wasn't doing him much good, either one or the other, anyway.

He could understand that he hadn't defeated it yet, but really? Not a single successful attack? Something weird was going on here, aside from the obvious. This couldn't be normal, merely a matter of the enemy's skill.

It made sense.

It made sense, but then what the hell was he supposed to do?

Sylvester got a flash of inspiration. But that was a very pretentious way of putting it, as the idea was quite simple. The first thing that should have occurred to him, really.

Better.

The more complicated a plan was, the more likely it was to fail. Sylvester didn't think this was going.... Or rather, could fail. And if it did, well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

He executed another attack with identical results to the several dozen attacks he had launched since encountering the thing, his breath like cold death on the back of his neck.

That is, absolutely nothing. The thing evaded it with no trouble and launched the counterattack.

Sylvester could have dodged it like all the other times, but he didn't. He braced himself to receive it, gritting his teeth. He felt something other than the being's breath for the first time. What had buried itself in his chest, digging in, was a human hand. Humanoid, at least.

"I got you, motherfucker," Sylvester spat between blood-stained teeth.

And then he delivered what should have been the final attack. He had already wasted too much time with this farce. He still still couldn't remember what he'd been doing before this, but he knew the world needed him and he had to get out of here.

Quickly.

——

Cynthia no longer felt like she was drowning.

Riding on the huge shoulders of the transformed Ryan helped, so she had pulled her head out of the water, after all. But mostly it was because the tables were turning.

This was a terrible day that she would remember for the rest of her life, short or long.

They had suffered too many losses, and too many people would die before this whole mess was over. Especially considering they still hadn't found Sylvester. Understandably, they hadn't had time to look for him either.

But the tables were turning. The monsters were losing ground, and everything didn't seem as hopeless as before.

It was morbid and almost cruel to be so happy about something that boiled down to fewer people dying per minute, even if it was still too many. But Cynthia couldn't worry about it now.

They were winning. They were making the monsters lose ground and crushing them. That was what mattered.

Cynthia was shot.

From what, no idea, if she had seen it coming, it wouldn't have hit her. At the very least, she would have had time to drop to Ryan's back, using him as cover.

But she hadn't seen it coming, so it hit her squarely in the shoulder and she fell to the ground without even a chance to scream. Hurt, but too much for her to get more than a few meager coughs out of her throat, as if she had something stuck.

As if that was all it was.

She wished, but she'd definitely been shot. Her shoulder was shattered"whose arm had been replaced, her left or her right? Because of the chaos, at that moment she wasn't able to even remember something so simple. To be fair, she hadn't noticed the difference. Everything had been perfect. Too perfect, as if the loss of one of her arms had been a dream. But she remembered. She remembered how she had...

A Lunar Remnant approached her, baring all its teeth, drooling.

The first word that came to her mind was wolf, but nothing like that, it was covered in spikes like a porcupine to boot. Cynthia bit her tongue and gathered her strength to raise the revolvers. Pain was just that. Pain. She had to let it pass through her, and sooner or later it would go away.

Her head was spinning. She was able to handle the revolvers, so the wound in her shoulder couldn't be as bad as it looked, but she wasn't sure she could get up before the monster was on her.

She did manage to get up. Cynthia stood facing the beast, wielding her revolvers, blood flowing from the hole in her shoulder gushing and her head aching as if someone was crushing it.

The Remnant lunged at her.

Cynthia fired both revolvers as that beast crossed the air, but not a single bullet came out of either of them. They hadn't jammed in the most inopportune moment.

She had said that no bullet came out, not that they hadn't fired.

What came out, somehow, were gusts of wind that blew the monster to pieces before it had a chance to touch the ground, much less reach her. Cynthia stared at the result, dumbfounded, feeling for a few moments as if all the other monsters and also the humans desperately fighting for their lives had disappeared. Leaving her alone with the remains of that thing.

"What the hell? That's new." Useful, no doubt.

But things like that didn't happen for no reason. It wasn't normal, and that was bad by definition. It's not like someone had given her a hand and she'd been confused, she knew very well what she'd seen. The wind had come out of her revolvers.

But they couldn't do something like that. They shouldn't.

What had happened?

Cynthia shot several monsters, but she wasn't able to repeat that again. Actually she should be afraid of that happening again. She had seen what that wind could do to a Lunar Remnant, if it had hit a civilian by accident....

Then today's losses wouldn't be pitiful deaths she could have prevented. She would have become a murderer.

It really was like a scene from hell. The water in the fountain was dyed red. It gave the feeling that there were more chunks of ground covered in blood and gore than clean and empty. It didn't inspire much hope, but she had to remember that they could do it. They could fix this, and the tables had indeed turned....

Stolen novel; please report.

Though it was inevitable that this day would be remembered as a terrible tragedy and nothing close to a victory.

She turned back to Ryan.

"I'm glad you're okay," he said, albeit haltingly. That was how she discovered he could speak in his Lunar Remnant form. She should have known that before.

Whether she liked it or not, they were a team now. They would have to fight together in the future, not just today. Assuming they survived this shit, of course.

It didn't cost her anything to cooperate, that was the point.

There was no need to forgive, especially when Ryan himself didn't forgive himself.

"Yeah. Same here."

What else could she say?

They went back to the fray. They gave everything to end this before things could get even worse.

——

Sylvester struck the enemy for the first and last time.

He felt it. His sword piercing the body, whatever it was made of, and tearing his insides to shreds.

He also felt that the enemy couldn't fight anymore, that it was the end for him. For several reasons, but mostly because he stopped feeling the need to keep his eyes closed.

He opened them at last, and there was nothing.

The corpse of that thing had disappeared without a trace. So he had won, but killing it wasn't a way out? Had the creature just been another obstacle? No, he had simply jumped to conclusions.

This void began to collapse.

The mirrors exploded, one by one, deafening, the shattered pieces disappearing like the being he had just killed. Everything had been plunged into darkness from the beginning, but at least the mirrors had provided a point of reference beyond his body. A lifeline in this sea of darkness.

The darkness cleared.

That wasn't a good thing. Sometimes the darkness only hid what you didn't want to see. Sylvester was back in that square. His memories had returned too, every piece in its place.

He had been gone for a long time. Too long.

But the cavalry had arrived, they had been fighting the Lunar Remnants in the square instead. He could even see Cynthia, riding on Ryan's shoulders, who was transformed. Not that he wasn't big enough to support her weight even in human form, of course, but in that case there wouldn't have been much point in doing that.

They had done all they could, he was sure, but the square was a hellish place tinged with red.

Not only did it not look like the same place as before, it didn't look like a place built or inhabited by human beings. The blood, the guts, all the stains that remained were of human beings who had been cruelly slaughtered. The Remnants left no trace.

He felt like vomiting, almost.

Just almost. He had no time to waste on trifles like that.

The katana was still in his hand. He gripped it tighter.

So many had died, but so many others were still alive. He still had time to fix this.

Sylvester stopped at the fourth step, before jumping, before actually resuming the battle. A large number of the survivors, even those behind the agents who had come to save them, began to collapse.

What was going on, an invisible Remnant wreaking havoc in the crowd?

There was no trace of blood. That wasn't what it was about.

Sylvester had no idea what it was, but it was clearly something else even when it was confirmed beyond doubt as he saw some kind of white energy coming out of their bodies.

Was the energy going to the moon?

No, only to the tallest building in the square.

The energy was going directly to a kind of egg there, covered with veins standing out on its crystalline surface, veins that acted like branches, digging deep into the building and helping it to stay there.

And, inside it...

He could see the vague shape of a human being, balled up. Only it couldn't be human, could it?

Sylvester felt a shiver.

No matter what it was, he couldn't allow it to be born into this world. He spread the dark wings again and took flight. That was the priority in every possible way. For starters, the harvesting of souls was to feed that egg, he wouldn't stop until he shattered it.

Souls. He had thought that so matter-of-factly as if they were more than a concept, as if it were proven, but he didn't know how else to say it.

However he said it, that egg was taking their lives. He could see them lying on the ground, writhing.

Dying.

They were counting on him. Everyone was counting on him.

Sylvester heard a splash.

He thought it was just blood. He thought surely it had nothing to do with him, or his target, unless it was fluids emanating from the sinister egg that would soon (surely soon) hatch.

He was wrong. He was starting to get used to it, to the fact that life could surprise him, even after fighting nightmarish monsters from outer space had become routine.

A humanoid great white shark appeared above him.

No, it had pounced on him after emerging from his shadow. That had been the splash. The creature emerging from his shadow as if it were a lake. Was this the thing he hadn't been able to see in the mirror world? Hadn't it died, after all, and now it was back for revenge?

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered compared to that egg.

He had wings, which meant he could dodge even in mid-air, changing his trajectory in a second. Sylvester was fast.

But not fast enough.

The shark's teeth bit into his torso hard. That was the last thing he had seen before he was transported into that void; a shark-toothed grin, quite literally. These didn't penetrate his skin, not yet at least, but it didn't matter. The added weight dragged him to the ground. More importantly, it was putting the egg further and further out of his reach.

He couldn't allow the thing to hatch in this world.

He simply couldn't.

He wasn't worried about how many people would have to die to breathe life into that egg and make it hatch, but what would happen next.

"So long to find the mirror world and it didn't even hold you for an hour. Very disappointing. But enough all the same. It's too late. We've won."

The hybrid gloated as if everything was already done.

Sylvester feared he was right.

Sylvester tried to physically disengage from the shark, but it was a bit difficult when he couldn't move his arms properly, trapped in its jaw. He would have to use his many skills. He didn't need help.

But he would get it anyway.

Ryan charged at the humanoid shark, hitting it squarely and dragging it away from him. Everything changed very quickly, as was to be expected on a battlefield as chaotic as this one, and for a second he allowed himself to think that this might be the end of the shark.

That Ryan would grab him and rip him to shreds. But it slipped away easily, elusive.

Swimming across the asphalt. It was no metaphor. The area the shark touched became like water (to be clear, it wasn't that water had appeared out of nowhere, but that the asphalt behaved like water, impossibly) and swam through it.

From there it went to the building. To the glass of the windows, to intercept them, because of course Sylvester hadn't wasted any time. As soon as Ryan got the thing off him, he took flight again, the only thing that mattered now was the egg itself, to keep it from hatching, that and nothing else. He wasn't even that desperate to save the lives of the innocents being sucked into the egg. He simply could not let THAT hatch. He couldn't allow it under any circumstances.

The shark couldn't just use its power on objects, it had worked on his shadow as well. Hence the splash.

The same thing wasn't going to work twice.

The enemy took a big leap out of the water towards him, but this time he was more than prepared and dodged it with great ease. Now he would fall to the ground and Sylvester would have a free hand. He would open the egg before it hatched, dooming it to die before it took its first breath.

Hopefully.

The human shark, the damned son of a bitch who had smiled at him before trapping him in that mirror world, could also move in the air. It jumped back at him and Sylvester knew he couldn't dodge. But that didn't mean he had to take the attack, standing there like a fool. Sylvester met the shark's charge with his whole body, but, above all, with his katana.

The shark dragged him a few meters forward. Against the building.

They fell inside, through the windows. Sylvester glared at the shark that had no problem living on dry land. This was the right place. Worst case scenario, he could take it down, accepting the deaths that came with it. Not just in the building because he doubted everyone would have had time to evacuate, also those it would crush when it fell.

But the ideal would be to get out...

The windows were sealed by a continuous torrent of water. It was as if there was now a waterfall through the window. That was all that filled the window frames, no glass in sight.

"You haven't noticed, human, but you've been on my turf from the beginning."

"I'm afraid you're on planet earth, which is the territory of the human race," He wiped a hand over his mouth, wiping the blood away, "you little piece of shit."

"It used to belong to the dinosaurs, didn't it? Things can change. No, life demands it, it's constantly changing. That which doesn't change is dead."

Very pretentious for such a monster.

He smiled wryly.

Sylvester practically flew towards the humanoid shark, as the shark swam at blinding speed across the ground towards him. Since it could dive into his shadow, he had to assume it could make use of any shadow to attack. The shadow of, say, a pencil wouldn't hide a humanoid shark, but his shouldn't have been that big either. It should work similarly to his skill.

Therefore...

He climbed onto one of the office desks (yes, that's what he'd fallen into, an office that would soon not be in any condition for the employees to return to the next morning, even if they survived this) and leapt.

Towards the enemy, of course, who also jumped out of the water to meet him.

Sylvester gritted his teeth, raised the katana in mock readiness to strike him a blow with all his might.

Deceiving.

Yes, the katana was his weapon of choice, but that didn't mean he didn't have other tricks. With his free hand, he fired an anchor of darkness at the fire extinguisher on a wall. He ripped it from its spot and threw it, already smoking, against the shark in the middle of its jump.

It exploded as soon as the enemy touched it, covering it in a curtain of smoke. Sylvester couldn't see through the smoke either, but he didn't need to.

He had only one target. If he kept running forward, he would end up going through one of the waterfalls. That was enough for him to know.

He didn't get very far.

He sank into the ground beneath his feet, which had suddenly turned to water... and fell to the floor below, no doubt. Sylvester landed on his knees, one hand resting on the ground to stop himself before his head hit the ground.

"I see. So you can use your power that way too."

He wasn't talking to the air. Of course, the shark hadn't wasted a tenth of a second in following him downstairs.

He wasn't the only agent in the area of the massacre.

Anyone would know just by looking at him that the egg only portended bad news, all agents should have focused on destroying it immediately, if only to save the civilians whose souls were being harvested for its hatching.

Even if he didn't get to the egg in time, someone else might destroy it.

He knew that. He knew it, but it was no excuse. He had to get out of here and crush it with his own hands. Quickly.

Because he couldn't know.

How much time was left for its birth. How much time humanity had left.