Gas Mask looked around theatrically. "No brother running to your rescue this time, Jarek?"

"There's no need this time," Jarek said, taking a fighter's stance. Alard had never seen him so focused, which meant Gas Mask was probably ridiculously strong, not that his ribs hadn't tried to inform him of that already.

Gas Mask seemed amused and didn't bother changing his nonchalant stance. "Yet I don't see any difference from the last time we stood across from one another," he paused, as if just noticing something, "except for that scar that I see stuck around."

Jarek tensed, his fist shaking ever so slightly. The pair evidently had a deep history.

Finally, Jarek moved, feinting a head-on charge, he slid behind Gas Mask and his hand blurred slightly as he aimed a punch at the man's spine.

Gas Mask theatrically sidestepped the blow without looking back but Jarek didn't give him time to bask in his superiority. He launched a roundhouse kick at the man's head which he blocked but the force spun him around to face Jarek who was rearing to pounce. He threw a flurry of blurred punches at Gas Mask, who swayed to and fro dodging the thunderous fists.

Jarek was not capable of being toyed with, however.

Eventually, the arrogant dodges turned into near misses and hastily thrown blocks as Jarek's charge held strong. Finally, Gas Mask's hand seemed to give way after a precarious block that led to him taking the punch directly. Jarek's next punch landed squarely in his gut and as Gas Mask reeled from the impact, Jarek married his fist to Gas Mask's chin with a mean uppercut that should have sent him flying out of the atmosphere, but instead Gas Mask stood on his tip toes and seemed to weather the hard blow.

In fact, it seemed to do minimal damage as Gas Mask flung his arms downward, creating a shockwave that sent Jarek hurtling back and landing next to Alard in a heap.

Jarek regained his footing quickly, dusting himself off as he turned to his wide-eyed rookie. "When you're able, join the rest of the team in eliminating the target."

Alard glanced at the team's fight against the Serpen. It turned out Jarek hadn't just left the others to deal with Caldor but instead had put him in the ground.

Literally.

The man's bottom half was all that could be seen as from the waist down he was underground like some humanoid drill. Alyx was on the floor unmoving as Xipil defended her against Kenneth. The two seemed to be locked in a ferocious battle that under other circumstances, Alard would've happily watched.

Further down, Hayaka and Nessa seemed to be working together against the remaining members Deckard and Kace who seemed slightly outmatched and outnumbered with the addition of Kenneth's doll.

Alard's heart lurched as he saw Aura's stationary body lying across the floor. She sported burn marks on her arm and shoulder where the arm had protruded from. Not far from her Sutton cowered in fear, his face whiter than his uniform.

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Alard had a chance to finish the objective right there, but as he looked at the blood on Jarek's lip his gut told him to stay. Sure, Sutton was supposed to be the first priority but it was clear someone of Gas Mask's ability was more of a threat to the Underground's plans than some wimpy wannabe.

"No. I'm staying here with you," Alard said.

Jarek had been mid-turn and whipped his head back around. Alard saw a torrent of emotions under Jarek's hard eyes for the first time. Initially, there was anger and annoyance at his order being challenged, then understanding at the decision and there the tidal wave of emotion truly began. It was clear this was a personal battle, one that Jarek wanted to win by himself, but at the same time, Gas Mask's elimination was likely pivotal to the success of the Underground, and any assistance to ensure his annihilation was a plus.

The fight of business and personal grudge finally came to an end as Jarek nodded at Alard. "Do what you please."

"It's such a shame..." Gas Mask said as Jarek once again advanced on him. "You have so much potential, yet you're held up back by your status as a normie." Alard could hear the sneer in his words. "Your ability is limited as your dear brother would say."

Before Alard could decipher the meaning of those words the Titans clashed again. This time Gas Mask didn't dare resort to cocky dodging, giving Jarek the respect of a proper exchange of blows. It was clear he had realized Jarek wasn't one to toy with, even if he had been able to do so in the past.

Meanwhile, Alard made sure his body was healing and as he flexed his hand he realized he could raise his body a bit. He didn't dare try to force himself up fully though, making sure to not alert Gas Mask of his regained mobility. Against someone towering over his current level, Alard surmised a surprise attack was the way to go, or else he would only be a hindrance for Jarek.

Thus, Alard stayed in his seated position, observing the battle warily. In his adrenaline soaked state, he didn't realize he was able to follow the high-octane battle with his naked eyes, a feat he wasn't capable of back at the Lighthouse mission.

It felt like watching Thor face off against the Hulk for Alard, as the two tore up the surrounding terrain from the force behind their mighty blows alone. However, there was one thing that stood out between the powerful pair and that was durability.

Although the thwack that followed Jarek's fist finding purchase on Gas Mask's body was just as loud, if not louder than the successful Gas Mask blows, their reactions were not the same. Gas Mask seemed to absorb the hit easily while more and more, grimaces ambushed Jarek's features.

Finally, after a Gas Mask punch that strayed a little wide, Jarek stepped past his arm, ever traditional in his approach, but Gas Mask anticipated the maneuver. He slid backward just enough so Jarek's mid-section jab fell short and then introduced Jarek's cheek to his gloved fist.

The impact tilted Jarek's entire body to the side and Gas Mask slinked forward, anticipating an opening big enough to end the fight.

But he wasn't the only one.

Alard, understanding that his speed alone wouldn't be enough to launch a proper sneak attack on Gas Mask had been inching forward, making sure to give the fighters a wide berth to stay out of their line of sight.

Now, with Gas Mask leaned forward decisively, he started his run, like a cheetah timing its charge at its unsuspecting prey.

He blinked his eyes, activating Oracle Vision with practiced smoothness. To his surprise, there was only one singular red dot that appeared on the man's turned back located directly in the center.

Alard's feet left the ground as he neared, leaping forward even as his legs groaned in protest, and reaching back his hand as far as it could possibly go. He summoned all of the power his aching body would allow, digging into his endless source of rage like a bucket rising from a well.

His glare stuck to the red dot he aimed at.

The beacon to victory.