An image replays in my head, the image of fire crackling inside of my room. It devours everything I’ve come to love in there. The orange glow burns itself into my eyes as I watch my childhood crumble before my eyes. The smell of wood whiffs through my nostrils, growing stronger while my heart races faster.

“Marie.” A youthful voice calls my name. His calm demeanor startles me. Off-setting this disastrous event. “Marie, why did you do it…” His words confuse me, but they also hurt. “...Why them?”

“Them!?”

“Why did they have to go?"

Inside the fire, I can see them. Lifeless bodies lie on the floor, staring at me without eyes. Their mouths a gap, flesh seared from their bones, and their hands outstretched, beckoning me.

"I… I didn't want to."

"Then why did you?" Everything in my body goes numb. That little girl…with long, beautiful hair, wearing it in pigtails. Her beady, innocent eyes see. "If you ask me, I think you're disgusting."

The words choke up in my throat. She’s wrong, that’s all I have to say, I want to say it… But, she’s right, I am disgusting.

Laguna - afternoon

Marie is currently asleep and master as well. Our present situation has grown no worse. However, if an attack were to occur, I would be equipped to deal with any situation that arises. Zeal has a personal skill and Zell is a Source-user, that would turn the tide in our favor. However, I am unsure of Marie’s mental state. Continuing like this would prove ‌hazardous to her health. Although, she is not the one I must protect, yet a feeling surfaces whenever I think of her wellbeing. Perhaps I am feeling unwell myself?

A thump from up the bus arouses my attention. The other members of the army seem to have been alerted as well. I move to the middle section of the bus, but before I can finish my approach, the hatch opens. A single person drops inside, wielding a spear 5 feet long. His pleasant smile offsets his dangerous weapon.

“Oh, it seems like they aren’t here. Oh well…” No one dares to make a move. The unknown intruder casts his gaze at Marie, who is sitting next to me. “Excuse me, but may I speak with that woman for a moment?”

I summon my sword. He senses my intention, running away before I could strike. I give chase, ascending through the hatch. The young man stands at the front end of the roof,

“I believe I wish to speak with the other lady, did I not?”

Judging by his weapon, I have to assume this is the man that attacked master Richard. However, I do not sense any Source coming from him. Then my sword will be enough to subdue him. My sword was repaired after we defeated the body possessing Source-user. I am unsure of the specifics of how such a thing occurred, yet it does not matter.

“Interesting. My gut is telling me to stay away from you…”

He jumps off the side of the roof. The chain around the guide bar breaks out of the loop, extending into the sky. He swings it, destroying the windows to the side of the bus.

“Elizabeth, drive, now!”

“Gotcha! We’re gettin’ out of here!”

The engine roars to life, moving the bus forward soon after. I sway a little before securing my balance. Our enemy does not give, idling in the spot he landed on. Only logical, since it would be out of his means.

Hm? A shadow is overlapping me, growing wider as it hovers above me. From above, the spear-wielder descends. I parry with my blade, creating a shock wave that affects the bus’s movement. He plants his feet on my shoulders, using them like a vault. My reaction to him being behind me causes him to retreat.

He approaches, stopping 4 feet in front of me. This allows him to take advantage of our weapons’ length differences. Each strike of his is to wear down my stamina, but it’s also cautious about our blades clashing for too long. If I can land a solid blow, I will be able to disarm him, rendering him unfit for combat. However, his one-arm handle of his spear is astounding. Not only is he able to support his weapon’s weight, but his technique is still present,

As for his technique, instead of contesting with me in strength, he opted to combat me with redirects that would use my power against his strikes. Our styles clash against the other, his running counter to mine, which relied on strength than it does technique. If I were to give a truthful evaluation of my swordsmanship, it would be that I am more reliant on my power than on technique. This has proven to be effective in the past, but now, it is being used against me, keeping me from delivering a fatal blow. Not just that, but if I were to make a powered strike and miss, then it might affect the bus.

The longer I allow him to stay out of reach, the worse off I shall be. Stepping forward, the bus’ forward momentum carries me further than I intended. My opponent closes the distance, slipping past me. He kicks me to the bus' front end. I fall in front of the window shield. Elizabeth brings the bus to a sudden stop from me obscuring her vision.

“Hey, you okay!?”

“I am fine! Keep driving!”

“Aight, but–”

A loud, ear grating sound cuts her off. Several vehicles pull over around us, blocking off our escape route. They are quick to burst out of their vehicles to meet us, charging in with weapons. From this view, I count 37 of them. I will have to deal with them alone. That way, the bus can escape. However, the enemy on top of the bus leaps off, heading to confront the Fire wraiths. Some passengers from within the bus come out to meet the bandits.

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“This is troublesome. So many people are going to be tiresome to deal with.” Tiresome? Does he mean to imply… “...Fortunately, I recently devised a way to deal with such intimidating numbers?”

For the first time since this battle began, he placed his other hand on his lance. He kicks up dust, spinning around with his lance close to his chest, letting both sides draw closer to him. Then, on his last spin, the chain to his weapon broke out of the loop again, this time growing longer. He swings it around, slicing anyone in a 30-yard range.

Anyone quick enough survived, but most got torn apart before they could get the chance to evade. Both sides suffered casualties. The attack lacerated our bus as well, and I barely parried the wild attack. Such devastating power, and he was able to wield it with such a weapon. Even with enhancement, I am unsure of my odds against an attack like that. Enhancement strengthens the capabilities of an object, such as my arm’s skin. However, I have not transformed my arm into iron, but simply raised its thickness. However, if that weapon can tear through the human body with ease, then I shudder to think what could have been if I were to take it.

“Elizabeth, get us out of here,” Zell commanded, pushing Elizabeth to act. She turns the bus toward the enemy, who leaped out of the way. He gives no chase, only staring at us with a pleasant smile on his face.

…

Wildcard gets into a stance, waiting for me to make a move, but that ain’t happening cause I want him to move first. I have to think about this before I do something. Last time, he kicked my ass with some freaky flexibility. Charing in half-assed is a bad idea. I need to keep an eye on his movement; if I let him out of sight for a moment, I’ll be in trouble.

Without warning, he dashes at me. I throw my weight behind a punch, but he slips past it. Can’t let him face my back! I kick at him, not wanting him to take the lead. Instead of blocking, he grabbed my shoe. He swings me around, tossing me to the other side of the street. I plant my feet firm on the ground.

Not missing a beat, he closes the gap with a few steps. A few of his punches whiz past my head, but a kick nails the side of my head, confusing for a little. My sense goes off, telling me he’s coming in from my blind spot. I roll out of the way with little thought into it.

“Hm…” Too close. If I had taken that to the head, I would’ve been dozing off on the streets. “...How did you hear me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I barely made a sound, yet you knew I was coming. Not just that, but when I first attacked you, you knew I was coming.”

“You’re too loud.”

“Hmm…”

Not like he’ll be able to guess what my secret is, so let him get suspicious, and even then, he–

Out of the blue, he picks up the speed, dashing under my vision.

“Too slow!”

A hard thump finds its mark on my stomach. I couldn’t keep up. No, I let my guard down for a moment. Shit, he’s throwing my plan out the window. Another punch flashes toward my face. No time, just do something!

Under the urge to pull something off, I grab his arm and his fur coat, throwing him overhead. Wildcard responds by landing his feet on the ground. He manages a punch from a bent-over angle. I kick his back, pushing him away.

I put some distance between us.

“Man! That was great!” Does he need to yell like that? “...Your reaction time is a lot better. I’ll give you that. But you lack something.”

“What does that mean!?”

“Means your hand-to-hand is not polished, doesn’t have that sense of rhythm and flow that it should have. I’ll give you an example. Come here.”

Is…he for real…? But I want to see what I’m lacking.

Standing in front of him, I get into a lower stance, putting the back of my hand against his.

“Okay, ready…go!” I strike first, going for a K.O. before he can make a move. But his reaction time is pretty solid, smacking my fist out of the way before contact. Going for attacks of his own, I do my best to keep him away. Going for an attack of my own, he ducks. He tucks in his legs, lifting himself with his hands. Then, like a bullet, his legs shoot at my chest. They push against my lungs, squeezing all the air out.

“See, that’s what I mean. I can tell you got talent in you, but you’re still rough around the edges, or rather, you’re putting too much power in each punch.”

“Too much power?”

“Yeah. Each one you make is fast, but they’re not going as fast as they could be.” Now that he mentions it, I do put more weight in most of my hits. “Also, your body looks pretty agile. You can do athletics, right?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Then what are you doing? Use it. It’s a waste if you don’t.”

Using my athletics? Well, it has come to mind, but I never found an opportunity to try that out. But how do I use it? I can’t just bust out those types of moves on the fly, so–

“Stop thinking about it and just do it!”

I don’t know what happened, but at that moment, my brain went silent. Every thought in my head just ceased. Something else is telling me to go. I rush off, moving with the fronts of my feet. I aim for his face, but he keeps parrying my blows whenever I get anywhere near his head. Blocking my last attack helps him lead to a counterattack. The small window to react is there, so I take it. I take his arm, driving my elbow into his stomach.

“Nice!” Through the pain, he pays me a compliment. “Now let’s pick up the pace!”

Wildcard and I go at it; we trade blows with the other, canceling, blocking, and countering the other. Each time I get a blow in, he turns it around, striking me. More and more, the battle is making me watch every move he makes, then react as quickly as I could. Rhythm and flow. I think I understand it a little. In fist fights, I don’t match someone blows for blow. Even someone like Gil, I just dodge his attack because blocking his big ass hands hurts like hell. Besides, even then, Gil and I go at different speeds when we throw a punch…

Was there ever a time someone could keep up with me in a fistfight? Let’s see… No, I don’t think so. Even with some of the Martial artists I fought, I can’t say they were fast enough to keep up with my barrages. Well, save for one guy. And thinking about that, he always shut me down before I could get a mix-up going.

“Wildcard, why are you teaching me this stuff?”

A broad smile spreads across his face, satisfied‌. “Now you ask. Well, I think of it like this: our first fight was less than memorable, and I like to have fun with my fights. But now, I can see the potential in you. Someone just needs to polish you up a little before anything real can start.”

So, that’s why…?

“So you wanna keep going?”

Whether it’s because he wants the best fight from me or what, I need his help to get better. It’s crazy. Me and him are enemies, yet I feel a sort of resonance between the two of us. Strange, I know, but I just can’t help it.

“Wildcard, you are prolonging this fight?” From the other end of the street, an older, pleasant-sounding voice, yet spine curling presence sends a familiar wave of tension through my bones. “Here you are, playing around with an enemy. I must confess, I am a tad jealous.”

No way… How the hell is this guy still alive!?

“I thought you died, you old bastard!”

The old man from BlackRock prison. A man I saw fall to his death stands in front of me once more with those bloodthirsty eyes.