Upon reopening his eyes, he found himself in a pitch-black room, his feet softly landing on the cold hard ground. Taking his first steps, the echo spread throughout the room. Not long after, it lit up.
A training room… he recognized this place. Even if it was no longer decrepit. Renovated floor and walls, plants growing lusciously from its corners and a mural. He could see it clearly now with the light from the ceiling above. A vast sea of stars illuminated the picturesque tapestry.
Seeing it for a second time, Slava's eyes sank in realization. It was cleaner than he remembered, but it was undeniably it, the mural depicting his sister's destined fate. With the colors restored, his suspicions were finally confirmed. The godlike woman's flowing red hair he clearly recognized and the inky flame that served as her sigil, the same one as the one on his mother's hand.
Biting his lip, he extended his hand to touch it when a shiver travelled down his spine. Instantly understanding what was happening, Slava smiled, shoving these intruding thoughts to the back of his mind. His suit was working.
Slightly turning his head, whiteness, and chains spread from his back. His suit shifted into its combat form and the chains instantly dissipated into the air. He came face to face with the tip of Sasha's scythe. He couldn't see her eyes, but he could imagine their coldness behind that blindfold. The weapon was visibly shaking, as if struggling against an invisible wall. From the sidelines, it simply looked like she was frozen in time. But her weapon wasn't just quavering, it was slowly closing in and seeing this, Slava raised an eyebrow. Without a second thought, he grabbed onto the blade. Through his glowing eyes, he could see their domains clashing. Chains spread from his wrist, coiling themselves around it. So much momentum!
Sasha clearly noticed what he was doing because her expression turned sour. Unable to react in time, he watched as she vanished before his eyes. She was too fast, the algorithm would be useless, which is why…
She reappeared on the other side, bringing her scythe down once again. She did this time and time again, but the scenario simply repeated itself. Realizing the way it was going, Slava released his grip on the weapon. Clasping his hands together, he spread them apart, white arcs travelling from his right to his left. As he rose his jolting hand towards the sky, the arcs travelled up his arm. Shifting his body to the side, he brought his fist down, smashing the ground. A shockwave spread with him as the source, knocking the attacking Sasha away, while the bright wave spread to the walls and ceiling, slowly dimming along the way. The vegetation seemed to be absorbing it.
He saw her body phase in and out of existence. He knew this would happen, which is why he spread it in every direction, even through the unseen ones. This confirmed his hypothesis. She didn't break space, she bent it around her, using it as a path to travel. The movement was too massive for him to even begin to understand its scale. The one thing he didn't anticipate, however, was the sturdiness of the room. His eyes dashed around, carefully evaluating the impact of his blow. And that's when they landed on the recovering Sasha.
She was smiling, her ceremonial outfit shattering into dust, dust that instantly moved to cover her body. A bright purple glow shone through the smoke and when it dissipated Sasha was revealed dawning a cosmic nebula. She looked like a cosmic Deity descending upon the earth to reap his soul.
Her posture changed with her suit, her relaxed demeanor contrasting with her menacing, otherworldly hair floating behind her. She was stunning from head to toe, her…
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As soon as her suit had fully overtaken her body, she vanished, making him halt his train of thought, his eyes growing wide. He watched as her scythe cut through his defences. His perception accelerated, and the world slowed down around him just in time for him to dodge it by a hair's length.
He could feel her calmness through her movements. She'd analyzed, and now she was acting on it. She was finally using her domain, cutting through his like butter, spreading the space between the movements, breaking the link that kept the world around him still. So much for at least a month's worth of work. He couldn't leave her be, if she got close, things would get dangerous. Despite her ruthless and precisely cold movements, he could tell, her aim wasn’t his head.
He tried to keep her at bay, summoning his chains from a distance. It barely worked, her movements were too unpredictable for him to increase the gap. She wasn't moving, and her body looked to be phasing in and out of existence. Trying to comprehend it gave him a headache. The only reason why he could keep up was because of his quasi-instant acceleration.
She would move, then he would move, step by step, from wall to wall. They were intertwined, yet never touched. And when Slava finally began to discern the patterns, he started to reply in kind. He could feel the pain hidden behind her calm movements, her loss, and her sense of betrayal. But he couldn't, he had no choice, he needed time to… To what? To train? To think? To ponder? They should've done that together. They'd been through so much for each other. Shouldn't they be capable of at least this much? What was the point if…
It was like the rest of the world had vanished, and only they were left. It wasn't even a fight anymore, but a conversation. They were expressing themselves in a way that words would never allow them to. It was the apogee of combat, of the art of fighting, to a point where even their domains began to intertwine and link in a magnificent display of unbridled power.
As she was lashing out, Slava saw an opening and he closed the gap. Sasha froze for a moment, allowing him to take the lead. Maybe she was right, maybe he was wrong. His body moved on its own. Spreading his arms, he embraced her stiff figure. The world calmed down and her phasing instantly stopped. Her suit vaporized into thin air as space distorted around her. It took her some time to regain her composure and when she did, she automatically pushed him away.
“Slava… I’m past that, I can’t do this anymore.” He didn’t understand. He fixed her bitter expression, watching her as she calmed down. “I realized something during the two months you were gone.” She sighed, looking up in reminiscence. “No matter how hard I tried or how much I opened up to you, you never answered. I wanted to help you, share your burdens, but I had to realize that I couldn’t help someone who wouldn’t help himself.” She carefully looked back at him, her gaze full of pain. Slava clenched his fists.
“Being forced to be a leader made me realize,” she averted her gaze again, turning around, “I couldn’t wait or rely on you anymore, if I wanted something done I needed to do it myself.” As she was slowly walking towards the exit, she stopped, looking back. “Still thank you, I needed that. This was the only way I found to express myself, and I still hope that one day you’ll grow to trust me.” Saying this, she snapped her fingers.
Slava was speechless, two months, it took her two months to change this much, His gaze wandered away from her as thoughts raced through his head. He believed that in those two months, he could grow enough to protect and guide her on her path. But he still couldn't discern the gap between them. Maybe he should've stayed in that cave.
“But now that you're here, don't you even think about running away again!” He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed her moving him to her side. “You know how much bullshit I had to deal with while you were gone?” she circled around him counting through her fingers, “meeting, planning, designing, fighting all the while also training and doing my own personal shit.” Slava was relieved to hear that his friend wasn't completely gone. She rambled on and on as they walked forward together. He didn’t really pay attention, to be honest, he kept thinking of their spar, of the feelings she expressed and of what she told him.