Jennifer faced the icy Undergrounder with growing frustration. She had tried everything to get close, but the creature's relentless defense made it impossible. Each time she advanced, a barrier of ice would form, blocking her path. The stalemate was wearing her down, but she couldn't afford to give up.
“Jeez, this is getting nowhere. We need to do something, Vamby,” Jennifer muttered, her voice tinged with exasperation.
The Icy Undergrounder yawned lazily. “I am open for you,” it taunted, its voice dripping with sarcasm.
Jennifer sighed, but then a slight chuckle escaped her lips. The sound was unexpected and drew the Undergrounder's attention, “Took you long enough…” Jennifer says.
“What’s funny?” it demanded, suspicion creeping into its tone.
Jennifer began to charge her attack, a determined glint in her eyes. “Punisher’s End…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. With a sudden burst of speed, she rushed forward, her body a blur of motion.
The Icy Undergrounder sighed, a bored expression on its face. “Useless,” it said dismissively, raising a line of massive ice spikes in front of Jennifer. The spikes shot up, glittering menacingly, ready to impale her.
“NOW, DAN!” Jennifer shouted, her voice echoing across the battlefield.
From above, Dan descended like a meteor, his fists glowing with power. He struck the ice spikes with a thunderous impact, shattering them into countless shards. The Icy Undergrounder’s eyes widened in shock and confusion.
“What the—” it began, but before it could finish, Dan landed in front of it, his fists still crackling with energy.
“This is the end!” Dan declared, his voice filled with unwavering resolve.
Jennifer had vanished from sight, her movements too fast for the Undergrounder to track. A voice whispered from behind it, sending a chill down its spine. “Behind you.”
The Icy Undergrounder turned, but it was too late. Jennifer’s attack connected with devastating precision, her claws glowing with a fierce light. The creature let out a guttural cry as it shattered into millions of pieces, fragments of ice scattering across the ground.
Jennifer stood amidst the icy remains, her chest heaving with exertion. She stared at the shattered pieces, a mixture of sadness and relief in her eyes. “So she was killed… Sorry, I couldn’t save you,” she said softly, a melancholic sigh escaping her lips.
Jennifer approached Dan, untransforming from her Bat form and Vamby fluttering on her shoulder. “Dan! Where is Aru?!” she asked, her voice urgent and filled with concern.
Dan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Miss Jennifer. That guy, he’s about to show Hex what he’s made of.” He smiled, glancing up at the bridge above where their comrades were still fighting.
The battle on the bridge raged on. Alex, Carly, and Lila struggled against the massive Undergrounder, its colossal strength wreaking havoc. The monster’s relentless attacks forced the trio to constantly dodge, barely managing to land any blows.
“What do we do?” Carly shouted, her voice tinged with desperation.
“Alex, tell me what do we do?!” Lila echoed, her eyes wide with panic.
Alex stood frozen, his mind reeling from the chaos unfolding around them. The sheer magnitude of the monster’s destruction left him momentarily stunned.
“Sorry it took me some time,” Arata’s voice cut through the chaos as he arrived, transformed in his wolf form.
“Arata?” Alex’s confusion was palpable as he looked at his transformed comrade.
Arata took a deep breath, centering himself. “Alrighty, let’s get this going,” he said, stretching his legs in preparation.
Without warning, Arata disappeared from sight, moving with a speed that left everyone breathless. Just then, Dan and Jennifer arrived on the scene.
“Aru…” Jennifer’s eyes widened in shock as she saw Arata high above the giant Undergrounder.
The monster’s red eyes tracked Arata’s ascent, but it was too slow to react. Arata struck with the heel of his right foot, the force sending the Undergrounder’s head crashing onto the bridge, creating a massive impact. He continued to assault the beast with lightning-fast jumps, each strike too quick to follow.
“Umm… What just happened?” Lila’s bewilderment was evident as she looked around, trying to comprehend the rapid events.
“He’s too fast for my eyes… What the hell, Elio… You genius…” Dan said, a proud smile spreading across his face as he watched Arata.
“Unbelievable… How can he move so fast…” Carly’s voice was filled with awe and disbelief.
At Hex’s headquarters, Commander Williams and Jeremy Taylor observed the battle from the command room.
“Do you see that, Taylor?” the Commander asked, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and intrigue.
“He definitely seems to have some potential,” Jeremy replied, his gaze fixed on the screen.
“It all depends on how he behaves,” the Commander remarked, his eyes narrowing. “The kid doesn’t seem too rebellious, but we can never be too sure. After all, they will be our future someday. We can’t let Hex’s secrets fall into the wrong hands.”
“Indeed,” Taylor agreed, his expression serious.
Arata stood firm on the bridge, his eyes locked onto the colossal Undergrounder. “I will put an end to you…” he declared, his voice resonating with determination. He positioned his hands as if gripping an unseen weapon, and suddenly, a chained scythe materialized in his grasp. The weapon gleamed in the light, its twin blades glowing with an eerie, purple luminescence. The chain connecting the blades was intricately designed, resembling the sleek yet fierce pattern of a wolf's fur, giving it an almost living appearance.
“Is that… a chained scythe?” Carly's voice trembled with awe and curiosity as she observed the formidable weapon.
“Of course,” Dan replied, his voice brimming with pride. “I applied the wolf’s properties to the scythes. That weapon should make Arata’s offensive capabilities far stronger than ever.”
Jennifer’s eyes sparkled with admiration. “Aru… is so strong now…”
Alex nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on Arata. “I know, right… He is unbelievable…”
Arata restarts the fight with renewed vigor, his eyes locked onto the giant Undergrounder. His movements are a blur, almost too fast to track. He swiftly weaves through the monster's attacks, each swing of his massive fists missing their mark as Arata dances around him with wolf-like agility. The chained scythe is an extension of his will, slicing through the air with deadly precision. He uses the chain to swing himself around the creature, scaling its massive form with graceful agility.
“Look at him go…” Carly whispers, her eyes wide with astonishment.
Arata leaps onto the Undergrounder’s back, embedding his scythe into its flesh and using the chain to pull himself upward. He reaches the creature’s shoulder, delivering a powerful strike that sends a shockwave through its body. The Undergrounder roars in pain and frustration, its movements growing more erratic and desperate.
“He’s incredible…” Alex mutters, barely able to keep his eyes on Arata.
Even at the headquarters, Commander Williams and Squad A Leader Taylor watched with a hint of surprise. The strength Arata was displaying didn’t really put a dent in what they were capable of doing, yet they had not expected him to improve this much.
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Commander Williams, usually unflappable, felt a rare stir of emotion. His eyes narrowed as he studied the live feed, his fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on the desk. "He's come a long way," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
Taylor stood beside him, arms crossed, his usually composed expression faltering slightly. He watched Arata with a mix of disbelief and admiration. "I have to admit, I didn't see this coming," he said, shaking his head slowly. "The kid's potential is off the charts."
Williams nodded, still focused on the screen. "It all depends on how he handles it. Power like that can be as dangerous to us as it is to our enemies if not controlled."
Taylor glanced at Williams, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "You think he might be a risk?"
The commander took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. "Not yet. But we must remain vigilant. This kind of power can attract unwanted attention and tempt even the best of us."
Elsewhere, other eyes are also on the battle. Thronjaw watches from a distance, his eyes narrowed and expression unreadable. Meanwhile, Uriel and Lance, on a mission for their queen, observe the fight from a hidden vantage point.
“Look at that,” Uriel murmurs, his gaze fixed on Arata.
“He’s stronger than we thought,” Lance adds, his tone filled with a mix of respect and concern.
“And so, I shall end you…” Arata's voice echoed with determination as he took a deep breath, steadying himself. A distant roar of a wolf seemed to resonate with his resolve. He began to spin his chained scythe, the weapon whirling faster and faster until it was a blur of motion. The scythe tips glowed a menacing purple, casting an eerie light.
With a swift, calculated motion, Arata thrust the scythe forward just as the Undergrounder swung a massive fist at him. The blade sliced cleanly through the Undergrounder’s hand, severing it as effortlessly as a blade through butter. The giant roared in pain, its stump flailing wildly.
Seizing the moment, Arata leapt high into the air, his body twisting gracefully. For a moment, he seemed to hover, his silhouette resembling a fierce wolf ready to pounce. “Wolf’s…End…” he cried, descending with lethal precision. He passed through the Undergrounder's chest, his scythe carving a gaping hole that left the monster reeling.
Gasps of astonishment erupted from the onlookers as the Undergrounder staggered but didn’t fall. Arata landed smoothly, his eyes burning with unwavering focus. He snapped his fingers, and the chain scythe responded instantly, slicing through the Undergrounder’s body like a whirlwind of death.
The Undergrounder’s limbs and torso were severed piece by piece, each slice precise and deadly. Arata’s expression remained fierce, a picture of relentless power and control. As the monster finally crumbled into nothingness, Arata stood tall, breathing heavily but victorious.
“The end!” he declared, his voice carrying the finality of his victory. The battlefield fell silent, awed by the display of strength and skill. Arata's comrades watched with admiration and a newfound respect, realizing the depth of his potential and the ferocity he could unleash when pushed to the limit.
“Good job, Arata.” Alex's voice was filled with genuine admiration as he stepped forward, joining the others in applauding Arata’s incredible feat. The atmosphere was charged with relief and camaraderie as the team began to relax after the intense battle.
However, Arata’s expression remained stern and unyielding as he turned away from his ringmaster form. His eyes were fiery, filled with frustration and concern. “Sir Alex…WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?!” he exclaimed, his voice sharp and filled with disbelief. The sudden outburst cut through the celebratory atmosphere like a knife.
Alex looked taken aback, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.
“You are our leader for Christ’s sake!” Arata’s voice was charged with emotion, his frustration evident. “You were supposed to give some sort of command to our guys. Instead, you stood there dull, almost as if you lost hope. Like, what the fuck, dude.” His eyes flashed with anger and disappointment. The concern for his teammates was evident in the intensity of his gaze.
Alex’s shoulders sagged slightly, a mixture of guilt and confusion playing across his features. “You could’ve cost lives today if I didn’t show up,” Arata continued, his voice dropping but still carrying a heavy weight. The disappointment in his tone was palpable, the gravity of his words hanging in the air.
“It’s all over, that’s all that matters, right? We won,” Lila interjected, her tone trying to calm the situation and side with Alex. She glanced between Arata and Alex, her worry for both of them clear.
“That’s not the point, Lila.” Arata’s frustration flared again, his gaze shifting sharply towards her. “Our leader was not capable of leading his team when things got desperate. If there’s a situation like this again, what the hell are you going to do?” The harshness in his words underscored the seriousness of his concern.
Alex’s face reddened with a mix of shame and resignation. “I am sorry…It was my bad,” he said, his voice barely a whisper as he looked away, unable to meet Arata’s intense gaze.
“I am not looking for a sorry, Alex. I am just looking for you as a leader to do better,” Arata stated firmly, his tone unwavering. His disappointment was evident as he turned on his heel and began to walk away, his posture rigid with unresolved tension.
Jennifer, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, stepped forward, her voice tinged with worry. “Aru, wait!” she called out, her voice breaking slightly as she reached out to him.
Alex, feeling the weight of the criticism and his own failure, nodded slowly, his voice cracking with self-reproach. “What’s his problem? I don’t under—”
“He is right…” Alex interrupted himself, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked down at his hands, the reality of Arata’s words sinking in. “As a leader…I failed today…” The admission was heavy with regret, the burden of his perceived failure weighing down on him.
In the shadows of a dimly lit room, Thronjaw’s presence exuded a sinister calm. His form, cloaked in darkness, was almost imperceptible except for the subtle shifting of his silhouette. He stood before a massive, ancient map spread across a table, its surface marked with various symbols and notations, hinting at his meticulous planning.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, laden with malice. “Let’s see if I can fight someone strong. What do I do for that? I wonder, I wonder.” His voice, though smooth and measured, carried an unsettling undertone that hinted at dark intentions. The words seemed to echo off the walls, mingling with the silence that enveloped the room.
Even though his face remained hidden in the shadows, the faintest glint of his eyes revealed the depth of his malicious intent. The way his lips curved into a sinister smile was almost palpable, conveying a sense of twisted satisfaction and anticipation. The malevolence in his demeanor was clear, an almost tangible aura of danger that seemed to radiate from him.
Thronjaw's fingers drummed rhythmically on the edge of the map, each tap resonating with a calculated cadence that matched his deep inthought. His mind worked like a dark engine, churning over plans and strategies as he considered his next move. Every shift of his stance, every subtle movement, was infused with an air of cold deliberation.
The silence of the room was punctuated only by the soft rustle of parchment and the occasional creak of the floorboards as Thronjaw continued to contemplate his next steps. His thoughts were shrouded in secrecy, and the malevolent grin that occasionally surfaced only added to the ominous atmosphere.
On the other hand, in the Queen’s chamber, the atmosphere is charged with a mix of frustration and contemplation. Butter, her brows furrowed in concern, addresses the Queen. Her voice carries a hint of impatience, reflecting the unease she feels about their current inactivity. "Uriel and Lance are out there getting the last ring. What do we do in the meantime?"
Cheese, leaning casually against a wall, chimes in with a more laid-back attitude but clearly bored. "You’re right, things are boring here."
Butter, feeling the weight of the situation, turns to Cheese with a mix of irritation and exasperation. "What do we do?"
Cheese, trying to lift the mood, suggests with a casual shrug, "How about sparring?"
Butter’s response is quick and dismissive, her frustration evident. "Not now, brother."
Cheese’s eyes widen slightly, puzzled and persistent. "Then when?!"
Butter’s patience is clearly wearing thin. "Not now. Some other time."
The bickering between Butter and Cheese continues, their voices rising and falling in a rhythmic exchange of sibling annoyance. Despite their bickering, Butter’s mind is elsewhere, her gaze shifting to the Queen, who sits in thoughtful silence.
The Queen, her expression softening, gazes wistfully at a wall adorned with faded portraits and old relics. Her thoughts drift to Arata, her eyes reflecting a mix of admiration and nostalgia. “I wish he could join us somehow… He is different for sure…” She smiles faintly, her expression tinged with a melancholic warmth.
Turning her gaze towards the portraits, she continues softly, almost to herself, “Sheena… He somehow reminds me of your son. Sadly, if he was alive… I would’ve taken him in first thing… But he isn’t…” Her voice trails off as she reminisces, her eyes growing distant and lost in the bittersweet memories of a past long gone.
The Queen’s chamber is cloaked in a solemn atmosphere. As her gaze lingers on the wall filled with relics and faded memories, a particular memory comes rushing back, vivid and bittersweet.
In her recollection, a young boy’s voice pierces through the haze of time. “Hey, hey, look, I made a paper plane,” the boy says, his voice filled with innocent excitement.
The Queen, in the past, struggles to mask her exasperation. “Jeez, why am I stuck with you?! I’d rather watch Sheena do her work. It’s so much more interesting,” she mutters, her frustration evident in her tense posture and sighs. Her eyes flicker with a mix of regret and longing.
The boy, undeterred by her impatience, looks up with a hopeful smile. “Mom’s work, huh? Well… someday I also want to be just like Mom. She doesn’t have time for me sadly but… you always take care of me, so thank you, -----.” The boy’s name hangs in the air, a painful reminder of what the Queen has lost. Her eyes well up as she struggles to keep the name buried in the recesses of her memory.
Back in the present, Cheese and Butter watch the Queen with growing concern. Cheese’s gaze shifts from the Queen’s tear-streaked face to Butter, his voice laced with empathy. “Is she thinking about Miss Sheena again?”
Butter, her own sadness mirrored in her eyes, responds quietly, “Most probably. Who else would she be thinking of?” Her shoulders slump slightly as she shares in the Queen’s grief.
A heavy silence settles over the room, broken only by Butter’s hopeful whisper. “I hope we can revive Sheena soon.”
Cheese nods in agreement, his expression serious and resolute. “I agree…”
The Queen’s tears continue to fall as the weight of her memories and the loss of Sheena envelops the room, leaving the siblings and the Queen united in their silent sorrow and hope for the future.