Blindingly bright is the cyan light that consumes the entire field of view, stretching past the edges of eyesight, leaving nothing to contrast the intense pallet. That light is not a single flat tone, but rather an animated canvas of bright dancing flames over a darker backdrop, though with so many layers of flames they compound to lessen the specs of significant darker portions. There are some spots with so many layers in fact that they result in a nearly white blob with no direction of its own, simply expanding and shrinking as a sum of its components. There is no sound of this mammoth light, for it is a silent source that emits blazes orthogonal to its surface, blazes bursting out which triggers a few bright spots in their place too from quick spikes of energy. A chaotic eternal flame raging in silence, wide enough that the chaos can spread to every peripheral corner.

This is the first abrupt sight Meditat experiences, causing him to instinctually raise his hand to partially block the light even though his eyes are already protected by the parallelogram lenses of his white mask, a stark contrast from the gloomy gray atmosphere he was under just a second ago before a black flash swept over him. The cruel joke impacts him in a secondary wave upon the recognition of this entity, that being the great supersun at close proximity, uncomfortably close that flashes of memories infused with the sensation of agonizing burning pierces Meditat, a panic that he stumbles back from, though his movements are oddly slow in an almost graceful manner, his cape lifting gradually in a stretched timescale in reaction to his body’s movements.

Taking notice to the strange drag of his own movements, Meditat lowers his head to find the ground beneath his feet is no longer the white snow of the mountain, as while this surface has a similar color, it is in fact the gray stone of the Moon, small pebbles by his feet far smaller than the dunes further ahead which reside behind great craters: the gray desert. He hadn’t even realized he was no longer breathing oxygen straight from nature, his breathing quickening but luckily without being cut off. That doesn’t vastly lessen the wave of bewildered panic that sweeps him, as he can tell that this is not just any Moon, but given the sheer devouring scale of the sun, it has to be the Moon of the most intimate Earth, the very Moon he found himself naturally hurdling into his brother on not long ago. From being on the surface at the very rim of the Superverse to standing beside the very center, a great distance traveled instantaneously, questions rain into Meditat’s head as he lifts his forearm in preparation to make a request: “Orial, wha-.”

“Meditat Viatorem, we can now speak freely without obstructions,” interjects a voice, deep but not particularly that of a masculine human or that of a heavily digitized audio synthesizer, but instead more akin to the bottomless weight of an ocean’s hum, echoing as if it was being spoken from many directions all at once to surround the man who immediately spins around to the direction where that echo is the loudest: right behind him. Upon swiveling, Meditat is greeted by the sight of the towering figure in the rock armor over the black conduit for the bright white streams that flow like the textures of a river. It stands over the desolate gray desert, the only environment that can be seen behind it being those dunes and craters, and above it there is the very opposite of that first view: an absolutely dark canvas that being the bleak cosmos which does have spots of brightness in terms of the sprinkles of stars and streaks of nebulas, however the backdrop is still substantially darker than the one that was just being stared at. Partially obscured by the surface and the figure is one orb with a mixture of colors across the rainbow, green and brown shapes over a blue base wrapped around in white swirls, Earth One so beautiful yet distant.

Now stumbling in the direction of the sun that blankets about half of the lunar sky, a primitive instinct to distance from what has now become the greatest threat currently present, Meditat lowers his head and contemplates, “That name...why does it sound familiar,” though begins to raise both arms with shut fists upon the decision, “No, that’s not relevant.” The frosty crystals lacing his knuckles flare up in preparation for battle as he coldly analyzes, “I assume you have the ability to instantaneously transport, you pulled us rather far from the rest of my team, perhaps excessively just to avoid their strike ranges.”

Far in the distance, in fact on the entire opposite side of the rocky celestial body, there is far more present than simply gray hills and valleys, but instead what can be registered as man made devices scattered around the surface in the form of tall, dark gray cylindrical towers with hollow openings, designed similarly to highly outdated nuclear power plants. While this one type of structure composes the majority of the devices covering the bottom half of the moon, there does stand a pair unique, one of those being a colossal cannon shaped like a telescope in that the body is composed of several ring components with each one further out being wider, the spaces between each ring a dark gray opposed to the white of the rings themselves. This telescope points in the direction of the titanic cyan supersun, aligned with a path of several large white rings hovering at distances spread apart, reaching from the telescope to the surface of the sun itself, two paths in total with each having endpoints near the second structure, or rather a set of them encased in a tall white ring wall where from above projects a towering dome composed of faint blue energy cells aligned as scales. All of the structures under that dome have a similar spike shape, only a few of them visible from a great distance with four along the quadrants and a single in the center, that center being the largest whereas the other four are standard in size.

Each of these five white spikes have black tips or rather balls at the top, but the detail required to observe those intricacies also reveals far more spike buildings scattered around the confines of the circular campus, some of them clustered in groups or walls, all of them significantly shorter as they’d only be a couple stories tall for a regular Earth building. Granted, some of the spikes are taller than ones, and at least they all tower over the various dense patches of black pods that lack any visibly designated parking lots but instead reside in coordinated groups. One of those groups stands in front of the grand central spike tower, far beneath that black ballpoint tip, that tip which has a purely opaque exterior material.

However, the same spherical material on the hollow inside seems transparent, or at least has a fully stretching projected screen to allow view of the campus from inside, providing that view to the two circular floors which have rings of tabletops in front of accompanying chairs, all of which are occupied by adults of various backgrounds though dressed in the standard navy blue uniforms with white shield-shaped epaulets on their shoulders. The tabletops in front of them host arrays of holographic screens which they focus on, although some of them are not seated but instead pace along the floor, the upper one having more of a skeletal frame in terms of leaving gaps that allow for smoother circulation between the two floors. On the top platform, as one of those patrolling officers paces about the globe, one of the women seated at the desk abruptly exclaims with intrigue, “Huh, we’ve just picked up a presence on this Moon,” which pulls the pacer’s attention as he strolls up to her side and glances over at the screen.

Noticing this presence over her, the women turns her chair, which swivels smoothly in the air, raising her head to lightly assure: “It’s coming from the other side so it’s far from the base’s perimeter, but I just received it with no observed entry, and the location is not within any of our facilities at least any of them harboring instant shipping stations. I can’t seem to identify them either…all I can tell is they’re not ours.”

Bending down to get a closer view of the screen, that stroller who is an older man with a face in the sixties paired with a smooth white beard though lack of hair on the top, tightens his amber gaze with a hint of concern written in. He hums to himself in contemplation as a few neighboring officers glance over to the commotion, listening in on his advice: “Keep an eye on their presence and check if you can find any sensors over that area with visuals or audio streaming. They may be Exhumans with nefarious intentions…if they haven’t moved much then it may be a passerby but if we notice them approaching us I’ll push an alert for defensive lockdown.”

He straightens his posture and sighs disgruntledly, admitting in a murmur: “We’re still short staffed and the inventory hasn’t been fully restocked so this isn’t an ideal time…maybe this base is just cursed.” He returns his gaze back to the confused and slightly anxious officer before casting a gentle smile and assuring, “Anyways I’ll call for standby, just keep an eye on them and holler if anything happens,” before turning the other way and strolling off.

That officer nods her head and returns her focus back to the monitor, keeping a tab on the newly tracked objects that have entered the area, though their intentions have yet to be uncovered.

Those tracked objects stand on their feet, whether it be in the black boots encasing the human-sized knees, or the jagged stone plating encasing the substantially thicker legs. They stare at one another, the man’s black cape drifting gently in the low orbit, the entity’s hollow eye sockets glaring back with little light behind them.

On the other side aren’t human eyes either though, least not ones exposed, for those were encrypted under the parallelogram-shaped lenses which don’t allow for even the shape of the eye behind to see, as both of them have bright azure emissions, similar to the streaks rising up the head and over the hood.

On the surface of the moon, his back intensely shaded cyan from the great bulb behind him, he keeps his fists up while focused on the Fallen in front of him who slightly tilts its head down before interpreting with a subtle tone of irritation, “You insinuate that the humans you were occupied with threatened me in any form physically, that’d be a rather childish insult that I had hoped you’d stand beyond. Perhaps their presence would’ve been insignificant enough to just ignore, though I prefer a secluded interaction with you.”

Slightly bending the knees to move towards a stance ready to pounce into a fight from the cruel words of the entity, Meditat’s glare gleams and he mutters with potent disgruntlement, “Similar words have been spoken to me recently, taunting allies of mine after slaughtering them in cold blood, so you’re like ‘him’ aren’t you? Trust me, I’ll bring you down before you can take one more glance at them.”

Ironically perplexed by that harsh response, the Fallen just stares back at Meditat in silence for a few seconds, as if trying to comprehend the meaning of what was just said. His posture does not change though, showing minimal expression with the body, instead maintaining a firm pose which is kept when it then oddly enough assures, “Don’t be mistaken, I have no direct interest in your allies and I see little reason for me to remove them personally.”

Through that soulless gaze, the Fallen shifts its tone to one of intrigued observance: “You are interesting, from the observations I’ve gathered I can determine you have an objective mindset which I respect, but there’s something off…something I still can’t precisely conclude. All I know is that peculiar aspect is restraining your output effectiveness drastically.”

Both puzzled and slightly uneasy about that ambiguous monologue, Meditat doesn’t lower his fists, instead turning his right foot to ready his stance before demanding in a forceful tone but one delivered waverly, “You believe I’m holding back?”

Both feet planted side by side, legs straightened with no concern for resilient stability in posture, the Fallen glares at Meditat with eyes that begin to shine, “You are, which isn’t enough. I’ll fix that,” before a black flash flickers forward.

Instinctively, Meditat’s boots flash blue which launches him off the lunar surface just as the black flash appears right under him, though his right foot vanishes in the passing.

Up in the air, Meditat’s focus shifts down to his right ankle, finding blood slowly spilling out, not raining down but instead spreading out before freezing. Not much manages to spill though before a flame pours from it to rebuild the foot, which thrusts Meditat backwards in a flip in avoidance of another black flash.

Halfway through that flip, Meditat’s body orients upright relative to the ground, giving him sights on the target he extends his arm towards which releases a flame that builds a compact submachine firearm shaped like a P90, the tip of which flashes blue as it ejects a rapid round of blue plasmic bolts, each fired at intervals so miniscule between each other that it appears like a solid beam of energy if not keenly analyzed, one that strikes the center of the Fallen’s chest between the armor, seeming to result in the bolts being properly absorbed although they don’t sway the entity’s posture even slightly.

Instead, the Fallen just keeps its straight gaze at Meditat, focused as another two black flashes appear from beside it.

Again Meditat propels upwards, dodging one of the black blinks though the other one which was aimed slightly higher catches both of his knees, severing them which forces another regeneration, every shot grazing him though leaving savage injuries that’d immediately immobilize most other combatants.

Able to remain intact as long as he had his mind, Meditat takes in a deep breath to cool it, attempting to calm himself and process this encounter rationally, tactically. In a mutter to himself, he requests promptly: “Orial, can you identify the material of his armor? I need its tolerance,” before he’s then forced to boost down in avoidance of another black flash, unable to hover in one position for too long.

He draws his right arm closer to his chest as the palm of his hand ignites in a burning flame that grows to consume his whole hand before spreading down his forearm, charging for him to thrash it in the general forward direction, dispensing several streams of flames down to the ground in what at first seems to be a broad bombardment though none of them hit the Fallen. Instead though, upon impact all of those flames rise straight up about twenty feet before hardening into silver pillars with arrays of rotating rings of the same color along it, rings that have blue light dots pulsating. All of the rings trigger a whirring sound before all the towers start emitting a strange blue-tinted field, the air within waving as if magnetized, causing some of the smaller pebbles within the field to slowly rise a few inches from the ground though the Fallen’s body doesn’t move. All that moves is the head upon the observation that Meditat projects a blue cable from his hand onto one of the pillars, reeling towards it before projecting another to a pillar further out, utilizing their physical structures as points to anchor from. More black flashes flicker around the Fallen, trying to lock in on the zipping target.

Through the blue tinted vision behind the lenses, Meditat flips and dashes interspersed with cable zips chaotically as black flashes keep appearing around the large entity standing in place, the one he tries to linger his sights on for brief moments before needing to focus on evasion.

Behind the mask, that British male though, albeit artificial, explains in a nervous tone: “I’ve collected a few samples though I’ve failed to determine any matches with the material, I’m not sure if the visor sensors are adequate. I’d ask if you could use your glove sensors but-.”

“I don’t think the gloves last enough for the processors to function, correct?” hastily completes Meditat, trying to shorten those explanations while avoiding the rain of black flashes some of which instead hit the pillars which saps half their bodies into nothingness, countering with his compact energy blaster though its effects are still nullified.

“Yes, unfortunately most protocols for material analysis beyond the visor sensors require physical contact with the sample, I’d need you to recover a separated sample that we could analyze with larger particle sensors however that wouldn’t even provide results immediately,” answers Orial, in short admitting the inability to determine the material of the Fallen’s armor.

Sighing to that disappointing response, Meditat assures while zipping away from the flashes, “I can’t guarantee that I can recover a sample quickly…for now keep reading samples off the visor, you can collect more data as long as I maintain distance-,” in reference to the Fallen who abruptly appears behind him in a black flicker, forcing Meditat to zip forwards and dash down though his right shoulder is penetrated which detaches his arm, causing it to be flung towards the ground from the force of the propulsion alone. He spins around to get a glance of the opponent, who now simply levitates above the surface, its posture indifferent nor are there visible propulsors keeping it afloat, instead it’s as though it’s simply standing on the air. The head lowers to track Meditat, who tsks as he dashes hard to the left in avoidance for another twinkle which grazes his hip before colliding into the ground, forming a small yet deep crater not blown up but instead just appearing embedded into the floor.

Just a foot off the ground, Meditat consistently propels himself in a circular motion under the Fallen’s levitating body, orbiting with a radius of several feet. One hand is held out of the circle, and from that hand fires several flames to the ground which each manifest into stationary hovering turrets that have a batch of 3-foot barrels held together, banded by several metal rings. Those barrels are instantiated with the rotation to aim at the Fallen, and after instantiation they begin spinning rapidly which causes those rings to brighten blue before unloading a barrage of blue bolts into the one target above, a total of six turrets made which maintain consistent fire.

Leaving those turrets to their autonomous tasks, Meditat makes a dash for the center of the circle as he ignites his hands with another flame, though this one equipping him with a weapon handheld, a strange long one held like a minigun in that the majority of the body is a long barrel, the body needing to be supported by a handle on the top. The weapon has only a single barrel though, from where an electric hum grows quickly.

In just one second of charge up, the gun fires a plasmic ray about half an inch wide, with a texture almost reminiscent of an ocean though with visible electric arcs within. That ray strikes the armored body, and on contact it begins to widen, trying to encapsulate the target as the ray changes to form more of a cone. Bright blue flickers dominate the spatial position that the target inhabits due to the intensity of the turrets, appended with the pulsating plasmic ray growing ever wider, yet even through that chaos Meditat’s eye manages to catch a glimpse of a black flash pushing against the fireworks.

Concurrent with a gasp, Meditat barrel rolls with an evasive dash to dodge a single black flash shot straight for the side of his head, missing it and instead striking perfectly into the moon’s surface where it carves a narrow yet very deep crater.

On the other side of the globe, the peaceful base of white spikes resides within the protective bounds of the tall ring wall, though one of those many smaller spike buildings lower than the five core towers is abruptly torn apart from seemingly nothing, splintering it enough that the whole structure crumbles like stones. All the sudden, a familiar siren begins to blare from the various buildings still standing.

Slightly the ground in the base rumbles, bringing an uprising of anxious murmurs in the ballpoint command room of the central tower over the clear sirens where the man pacing about nearly collapses on the ground. With his hands held in opposite directions he does maintain his stability, but everyone else loses their mind as one of the sitting officers exclaims, “Wait, where did that come from? I’m not detecting any signals from above, and the dome hasn’t suffered any reported damage!”

Another one chimes with a voice even more frantic, “Wait what, the subterrain shielding just reported a direct hit that overwhelmed the generator, but that means something hit it from the ground! But we haven’t sensed any underground movement, are we being ambushed from below??”

Before the one man standing can even try to respond to either of the two, another officer stands from this seat, this one being the woman to have originally detected the new presences on the other side of the moon. She turns to face the commanding officer to declare nervously, “That building…I just checked and it’s at the direct point opposite from where I’m reading those unidentified objects, it’s a straight line through the Moon. What weapon could even drill through the Moon that quickly…is this an Exhuman attack?”

That quickly analyzed revelation stuns the commanding officer given the widening of his eyes and the drop of his jaw, repeating to himself in disbelief, “Someone is…shooting at us through the Moon? Shit…I need to relay this to the strike team,” before he turns the other way and marches off in haste.

Behind him, through the streamed view of the outdoor campus from the walls there can be seen the ascension of a fleet of black SUV pods, a quick response though one that comes to a halt midair, stalling for its next instructions.

Unaware of the commotion caused, on the other end of that narrow crater appear blue blazing bursts that elongate poles which embed into the floor as the heads expand into circular dishes before materializing into what resembles radio towers in that the poles have a wireframe structure and the dishes have a wire pyramid emergent from the center. All of the dishes of the towers rotate, as the dish seems to be mounted on a ballpoint, to face the Fallen still hovering in the air before they all emit a high pitched screeching sound that comes with a visible stream of intense vibrational waves concentrated onto that single target. Five of these towers are created, all of them concentrating fire on the unmoving opponent, all while the summoner of said towers projects a cable off one of the towers to swerve and zip around the field.

Maintenance of this high speed is vital to avoiding the invisible attacks, as black flashes appear sporadically to his side, and while they fail to cause any changes to him there are changes visible to the landscape on the other side as oddly enough more craters abruptly appear in the ground. At the very least though, Meditat remains nimble enough to dodge, using the radio towers for maneuverability while they try to pressure the indeterminable armor which he fixes his gaze on to allow for elaborate scans to hopefully provide an identification. Even with all the zipping in all directions, his ability to keep a solid lock with his gaze is rather commendable, most of his cables emerging from his hips in order to keep his hands free which still burn in preparation for more creations whilst strafing away from more flashes.

He does dodge those flashes, and yet a dark gray-green blur flickers from nowhere which propels Meditat like a dash downwards, though given his limp state with the loose dangling of his arms and legs it’s clear the abrupt movement wasn’t his own.

Hurtling straight with all the momentum of his zips overridden, he alas lands in a violent crash into one of the lunar dunes at such speed that his body penetrates a hole through it, burying him about ten feet deep, groaning though his suit remains surprisingly intact as well as his body.

When he does come to a stop, isolated in the darkness of the pit his body has made for him while smaller debris of rocks drop on him and gray dust covers the light from the aperture, he ignites his own light with the crystals of his right fist which swings backwards in a slap to the rocky material beside him, blowing another small crater inside the hole itself, one a few feet in radius which he can fit that right arm through. There’s additional space for a construct he manifests with that hand, a cylindrical silver device that has a dark metal drill about a foot in diameter on the face away from him which immediately begins whirring up enough that it reddens from heat, and on the other face closer to him is a propulsor that drives the drill up the wall, leaving behind a blue trail from the back face that Meditat latches onto with a cable, letting him surf the drill that forms a tunnel wide enough for him to follow without collision. The speed of the drill coupled with the racing propulsion drags Meditat out of the dune in about a second, the rocks of the surface splattering in all directions and letting the bright cyan sunlight graze the man once more as he faces the very dune he flew into, only for that dune to meet a black flash that leaves behind a massive crater completely consuming the pit dug in with his body.

He raises his head in awe to find all five of the towers cut in half, the heads laying on the ground no longer able to rotate properly due to their angle, none of them having a lock on the Fallen who just glares back, still in the air.

Gazing right back while disengaging from the drill which destructs itself in an azure flame anyways, Meditat strafes to the right as Orial begins to report, “I’ve just intercepted a message from Fort Icarus positioned on this Moon, they’ve dispatched a-,” only for it to be interrupted by Meditat’s desperate demand: “Did you identify the armor material yet?”

After a moment of silence from recalibration after the interruption, Orial apprehensively admits: “No I haven’t, nor have I been able to identify any potential components assuming it to be a composite.”

With the conversation shifted before it started, Meditat nods his head and extends both hands forward though his left further out, positioning it to properly hold the manifestation birthed from a flame of his right hand, one creating a sniper rifle in a shape like a Barrett with a sleek profile that has a stock sitting against his shoulder and a long barrel that he grips underneath with his left hand. Though there are no physical scopes on the weapon, Meditat keenly stares between the iron sights, the silver body reflecting well against the sunlight, beautiful almost as he pulls down the trigger, firing a single black bolt of concentrated energy through that barrel.

Like a flash, that black bolt lands straight on the Fallen’s stone shoulder, this time causing an effect nearly that of an effective shot as from that impact point there spreads a black layer of Anti-Exmatter energy over the Fallen, the visual indicator that an Exhuman’s power is being suppressed. The layer oddly begins to warp like a wave before the energy itself becomes fragmented with white streaks like caustics that segment the wave, separating them all into progressively smaller chunks drifting away from the armored body before they instably flicker and vanish. This effect does actually grab the Fallen’s attention as it slightly lowers its head and raises its arm to place its hand on the point of impact. It then raises its head as the whole body again flickers black, though this repositions the imposing titan just a foot in front of the barrel of that sniper that shot him, which it grabs with its hand twice the size of the summoner who instinctively lets go and dashes backwards, ditching the weapon that oddly fascinates the Fallen given the keen observation. Holding it up by the barrel, a single black flash sweeps over the whole weapon, leaving behind nothing but the compartment functioning as the magazine which was already loaded in, and while the bottom half simply had an opaque metal shell, the upper half has a transparent battery casing to reveal the black plasmic energy within. Easily catching the magazine due to the slowness of any drops, the Fallen inspects the dark energy.

Distancing away from the abandoned weapon’s remains, Meditat dashes in retreating strides before being asked the strange inquisition from the enemy: “How did you study the Wyforce?”

Utterly perplexed by the question especially in its referencing to foreign terminology, all Meditat could muster back was a baffled, “What?”

Shaking its head from the rather lackluster response, the Fallen comments: “It’s a crude imitation, but interesting nonetheless. Your application of the Exforce surmised rudimentary knowledge, though this…surely He would not have taught you.”

Regardless of that strange praise, the large stone grip loosens to let the magazine battery slowly drift down before black flickers appear once more, the warning for Meditat to return focus and begin making dashing strides, manifesting tall walls made of metal bricks many of which quickly are filled with large gaps though they at least keep the man protected.

Zipping off the walls and strafing away from incoming strikes, Meditat hastily gathers: “It’s not that the Anti-Exmatter had no effect, but I’ve…never seen quite that reaction before. Have you Orial?”

In prompt response, Orial admits as well: “I have not, latent resistances have resulted in the enveloping process being suspended but it has never followed with a reaction of that sort. I’m unsure what conclusion to draw from this.”

Sighing from that admission, Meditat nods too before following: “Me neither, I assumed perhaps the armoring was an Exhuman ability thus Anti-Exmatter should expunge it, though I can’t tell if the concentration was simply insufficient or…I need heavier firepower,” before rising in an upwards burst behind a wall where several holes follow along it from below, two of them adjacent which causes the entire wall to be cut in half and collapse.

Rising higher to match his opponent’s altitude above the lunar surface, bursts of flames begin firing from all over the azure suit, some of them being carried tens of feet away, all of the bursts aligned in a hexagonal grid. They all materialize into a fleet of large hovering cannons, each body about the size of a pod, only a single barrel each but with dimensions of five cannons in rows and columns, individual barrel count was a nonissue. Each of the cannons begin to hum in indication of a charge, however that’s when far past the opponent, there can be seen another fleet of objects about the same size which raises Meditat’s attention before a gasp comes within a second in realization.

For that fleet is of pods, specifically ones styled as black SUVs with a definitive white shield crest on the side. There were about fifteen of them in the fleet alone, all of them approaching from beneath the moon’s horizon.

Inside one of the pods are two men in those navy blue uniforms, the passenger’s eyes peering in intrigue before gently asking, “Wait…is that Meditat-?”

“Eyes on the targets, assuming strike positions,” relays the driver, completely unaware of his passenger’s comment. He leans forward for greater focus, an older man in his forties whereas his comrade seemed in his younger twenties.

That fleet which was initially tightly aligned begins to spread out, distancing from one another presumptively to provide each other strafing space. The result is that the pods take up a greater area, and given their speed, they’re approaching quickly.

Noticing the change of formation coming in the other direction, towards the apertures of the cannons, Meditat tsks from the complicated conundrum he’s been dealt, yet without taking a full second of hesitation, he drags his open right hand over his chest before shutting it, resulting in all the charging cannons abruptly bursting into blue flames and dissipating before they even had the chance to fire a single shot.

That choice even manages to perplex the enemy, who just gazes without attempting to strike the stationary man. Instead, it follows that man’s gaze and swivels in the air, turning to notice the fleet approaching.

Catching onto that change of focus, fear swarms Meditat who panics with both arms extended outwards before firing streams that extend out far before forming a huge cylindrical casing that consumes both him and the enemy in a silo structure, shutting off sight from the incoming fleet.

At the head of the fleet, the driver in his forties expands his eyes in utter bafflement before exclaiming, “Wait, is that Meditat?!?” in a sudden shout that nearly causes his ally to jump despite having made the exact same comment.

Encased in the metal silo, a second wave of flames spreads over the inner walls, leaving behind a grid of turrets that are attached to the walls on a ballpoint swivel, though each turret is only about three feet long, vastly downgrading from the other cannons. They’re spread apart along the silo’s inner wall before they raise to aim at the Fallen then firing rapid rounds of blue bolts, bolts that are at least larger than the ones to emit from handheld weapons, though they’re not significantly larger than any fired before, and therefore they have no effect other than simply being absorbed into the stone armor. The turrets are spaced out enough that none of the shots are close to hitting Meditat, who nonetheless zips around the edges of the walls in avoidance of potential counterstrikes.

However instead, the Fallen just oddly glances around the silo in a moment of what appears to be disorientation before muttering: “This is disappointing….”

It then faces Meditat, or at least the blue blur that can be seen of him.

Zooming around the walls, staying within the bounds he set for himself and the enemy, waiting for another black flash as he tries to use this new defensive tactic, Meditat keeps his gaze on said enemy who floats in the center of the silo though that is until it’s now floating right behind him, its hand on Meditat’s leg already, grabbing him with ease through physical measures, although strangely enough this physical contact does not decimate the man’s leg. Instead, it is tightly held as the Fallen drags Meditat’s body around as the whole space around them flashes black, as if for just the briefest of moments the scene flickers, leaving only the two present in an infinite void.

Out of that void there is a black sky similar to the darkness of the cosmos, where there still are those stars and nebulae present, however some of them are blurred or fully covered by gray clouds far above. Complete processing of this new change can’t be registered before Meditat is then thrown down, falling far faster than before, the pull of gravity greatly intensified as he falls down towards a huge crater etched into the ground not gray but green, a field sprinkled with trees. That crater is thicker too, almost bottomless from above as there’s just a blackness facing the pit, one where the only light is a dimly shimmering one.

Passing the topmost layer of the grass field, Meditat’s body plummets past the thick floor of dirt above rock, passing the layers of the earth until he reaches the hollow cave where beyond the crater there still hang stalactites on the ceilings like upper teeth, many of them larger than his own body. Those spikes can be seen in all directions for as far as the light bleeds into the destroyed cavern, for eventually there is blackness in all directions, especially unhelped by the nightly dimness of the environment that leaves the blue streaks across the azure suit being the primary source of illumination. The body underneath that suit raises both hands up before they emit blue flames upwards which connect in the formation of a large steel wall more than a foot thick, planted like a floor which immediately crumbles from the center upon the appearance of a black flicker, segmenting the metal chunks into rubble that nearly falls on Meditat if not for his quick evasive burst to the side.

Suspending himself in the air from a braking boost, he surveys his environment, quick to recognize the hollow cavern that was the underbelly of his former home.

Gazing down beneath his feet, the only remains of that home are the few rubble that hasn’t sunken in the cold black sea, fragments of golden wood furniture and lumber cushions of old sofas now soaked and eroded. Much of the ruins have already left the touch of air, forgotten in the waters despite having composed the home he had lived in for a vast portion of his life.

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Memories begin to flood Meditat’s head, though the moment of reminiscence is cut short as he’s forced to dive in avoidance of a black flicker, and after the boost he raises his head to find the Fallen standing in the air, further into the cave right above the aperture, its alien stone body glistening dimly in the light of the full white moon.

Whereas the initial recognition of the site brought back nostalgia from the many years of living in a home perhaps too large for himself, the next set of thoughts were of petrified horror in the reminder that he was brought here by the opponent, coincidentally to his personal home, inferring that the enemy had far more knowledge potentially on his identity itself. At least since the home was rather secluded and wasn’t publicly recognized under the guise of his businessperson mask, there was a chance just knowing the location of the house that did technically house the hero’s secret lair didn’t exactly confirm that his identity itself was known. Regardless, being brought to a place so personal to him chilled the man, pushing him to grunt with his arms in the air, flames dancing off his palms in the formation of a metal ring with a diameter of about ten feet, the ring’s outer layer itself about one foot. The ring is composed of dark blue panels cut out in semicircular patterns, somewhat resembling solar panels though they all brighten before the entire ring beams a concentrated blue plasma ray, projecting energy rather than receiving it. The rays are all angled slightly towards the center so they all reach the same destination, converging perfectly on the towering body above who becomes engulfed in a bright light, blinding like the sun itself.

Without the lenses, perhaps staring directly at the impact point could be damaging to the eyes, though behind the mask Meditat is capable of fixing his gaze to track any movements. For movements come quick, the gleaming blue orb like a dwarf star losing some shine from the contrastingly dark flashes appearing through the light, which a moment later results in the ring splintering into four pieces that begin to plummet, the rays losing their power as they flicker before halting, leaving the bright orb to dim away, only to reveal nothing within it.

Before Meditat can even turn his neck, his arm is grabbed by the stone claw, the hand itself just about covering his entire forearm, before the voice behind the armor decides, “You need open space,” and before a counterattack can be made, once again the entire cave around them fully submerges to black even for a split second.

When the Fallen has thrown Meditat’s body forward with utter ease as if the body was the weight of a small twig, the darkness clears out to a blindingly bright environment with a gleaming blue sky, not exactly the cyan floodlight of the supersun but the passive brightness of a day hardly obscured given the infrequency of white clouds. Hurtling across this sunny day, Meditat’s body crashes into a tall oak tree, snapping it in half against his back, hardly slowing him down as he continues through another, causing the top half to drop as if they were axed, the vibrant green leaves rustling as they slide past lower branches. After a total of four trees being thrown through, Meditat stops only from a calculated oppositional burst to halt his momentum, though being stationary itself is a danger which he has to break from with a quick zip from his shoulder to the right as the tree right behind him flashes black before an entire three foot chunk vanishes, causing that one to drop too.

While perhaps the individual trees themselves were not the thickest, certainly not to the extent of the great black one that the opponent had emerged from, the density of the forest surrounded Meditat in a way where he couldn’t tell from what direction that enemy was, even after a full panoramic gaze spin midair. He tries peering past as many trees as he can to get the deepest surveillance, only for the one he was searching for to appear right in front of him, its arm already extended out to have the hand placed on the abdomen, which without any additional physical movements causes Meditat’s whole body to thrust backwards once more in a slight upward angle but this time with an entire chunk of his stomach completely eviscerated, strings of intestines flinging out among other chunks flicking crimson blood out, hollowing him in a state that would be fatal.

He crashes into more trees and branches, some of which graze the inner casing of his wound to which he grits his teeth to suppress his agonized screams, bearing the pain of all his nerves screeching from sensitive floodings. He hovers his hand in front of the wound to fill it in with a flame that stretches over the gap before materializing it in a fill that regenerates the body underneath, coated with a patch of the suit correctly stitched to the rest, just in time for him to crash through the topmost umbrella of leaves which leaves him out in the open above the forest. In all directions he faces he can only gaze at this seemingly infinite green forest, the only other structures in any direction being the hills that raise and depress said forest and the mountains further ahead.

One of those directions he faces puts him into view of the gray figure just standing about fifty feet away, staring right back to which Meditat throws his arm straight up above himself to extend out a flame that stretches out into a large light-gray metal globe wide enough to cast a shadow over his body, one with many pores open all over the surface that have marked red crosshair outlines around them. Many of them begin to brighten, specifically those in the direction of the looming enemy, before a bombardment is unleashed comprised of a mixture of black and blue bolts, trying his hand again to neutralize the opponent with Anti-Exmatter, the best solution against superhuman threats at least for those he knows of. Before that rain reaches the target though, it vanishes and instantly reappears to the man’s right, although still distant now by about forty feet, to which the pores on the right of the sphere automatically initiate a barrage, covering all angles to anticipate this sudden teleportation, leading again for the figure to reappear instantly behind the man’s back around thirty feet distant which he only recognizes due to the automated firing initiating on that front. He instinctively spins around to face that new front, his black cape being tossed to the side in that motion, yet upon setting his eyes on the endpoint of the bombardment he finds no target standing.

In an abrupt plummet through the center of the globe emerges the Fallen still upright, nearly dropping onto Meditat if not for the quick dash away, however the damage had been done as the large gap through the center of the globe causes it to rapidly crack before igniting an explosion whose shockwaves blast Meditat backwards in the air, the wind beating directly against his body given the violent ripples against his hood and cape.

Before an air brake can be applied, Meditat’s entire face is grabbed by the stone hand, completely covering the mask and clutching to the hood, his face gripped by the being who reprimands, “You can do better,” during which the bright day over the forest blackens in a transition to a similarly blue environment that Meditat is left flung through before submerging into the surface he first contacts, that being a film of water before he sinks inside a vast sea that becomes quickly foggy as it’s at least not that deep, for his back slams into the floor of sand which rises and surrounds him. Seaweeds float amongst that orange dust which the man notices in a glimpse just before an intense wave swarms both those weeds and his body, shifting his focus to propel himself up at a backwards angle in a blue burst just as a chunk of water including where he was suddenly flashes black before vanishing, momentarily leaving behind a wide waterless crater where the sandy floor is entirely exposed from above.

Naturally the surrounding water caves in to fill that spot, although Meditat is already well above it now, able to glimpse at the sunny environment he’s in, one that’s almost scorching given the glistening reflections on the water. Again to his side appears the Fallen along with a black flash that blows Meditat backwards, slicing off his right hand which manages to quickly regrow just in time for him to land on the golden sand of the empty beach, sliding backwards before leaping again to avoid another flash that instantly digs a great deep hole into the shore.

Further past the beach on Meditat’s left there can be seen the edge of another vibrant forest with tall mountains visible further past, a remote location that is indeed beautiful in this light, especially with the gentle winds slightly grazing those leaves. Admiration for the nature isn’t exactly feasible though upon the emergence of the opponent above the crater, to which Meditat quickly extends both hands together to fire a long azure flame which reaches the target where it then envelops it inside a large box that materializes to have a solid glass-adjacent surface, one enclosing the stone beast inside. Upon quick inspection from that beast, the box has eight openings, one by each vertex that leads directly into metal machine boxes that slightly resemble air conditioner units, at least from the outside. Each of these units begin administering an ominous black mist through the ventilations, quickly filling up the otherwise enclosed box, taking only a few seconds before all that can be seen from the opponent is the silhouette which itself begins to fade into the darkness. Soon, the entire cell is filled with Anti-Exmatter gas, hopefully enough to seep through the armor, and in fact given the lack of immediate response, success may be promising which alleviates Meditat given the gentle sigh.

Through that gas begin to appear hazy white flickers, brightening the gas itself like lightning within thunderclouds, an effect gradually intensifying before the entire glass box abruptly shatters, releasing that gas out before it disperses, but more importantly it releases the standing shadow. Once again though, that figure has an expression of intrigue given that it blankly observes the fading gas, momentarily extracted from the fight. This allows for an opening Meditat takes without another moment to waste, his boots engulfing in flames that seep straight into the sandy floor itself, vanishing though the ground beneath begins to rumble which calls the Fallen’s attention back just before a huge metal pipe rises from the crater, a body like a mechanical snake in that it is not composed of a single solid wrap but instead several segments that are connected together in joints which allow for degrees of rotation. The body consumes the opponent through the hollow top, continuing to rise more than twenty feet as the sand snake was large, almost excessively so, yet in seconds that snake is cut up from black flickers opening gaps between seams, causing the entire structure to fall apart into huge bracelets that crash into the ground, swelling up large orange clouds.

Those clouds are torn open with more black flashes, pulling the sand apart to provide a tunnel through which the Fallen promptly appears at the other end right in front of Meditat, its hand already gripping the man’s significantly smaller left bicep which he tries to struggle against in the recognition of this pattern, trying to reach for that hand with his right hand yet before he can his surroundings blacken already, and by the time he grabs that stone hand he finds himself in an environment with skies not blue but instead red and orange. His right hand also is no more, only his wrist remaining, his own resistance breaking just by the nature of the attempt, leaving him helpless to be tossed yet again like a ragdoll. This time though he catches himself before falling, boosting in a backward flip just in time to avoid a sudden small burst of hot orange liquid which itself radiates a glow cast onto the blue suit.

Glancing down, Meditat finds himself right over the gaping aperture of a volcano, with rivers of lava already pouring out of it, lakes of molten heat sitting along the dark gray landscape. The actual sky isn’t even properly visible as a thick gray cloud covers over the surface, shrouding him from proper light. He’s quick though to veil himself in a cocoon of frosty crystals just as the stone hand contacts it, flinging the cocoon down into the rocky floor right in front of a lava river, though the cocoon strangely enough is largely intact other than a decent crack on its side. It’s restricting though, and therefore opened up in flames to be erased and allow Meditat freedom of movement which is necessary to evade a black flash that erupts a minor explosion in the river, spilling lava in all directions onto the land which requires another backward dash to avoid. Sliding back on the ground to remain mobile, Meditat begins throwing quick flames down beside him which grow into cannons whose barrels are aimed up like mortars. They all begin firing after implementation, not using precise energy bolts but instead large orbs of plasma that are noticeably intentionally unstable given the warping of its shape and the sparking emitting from it.

Without even having sight of the enemy, Meditat leaps off the ground to the side in avoidance of the Fallen’s emergence, standing on the ground this time, yet just as it reappears it is immediately bombarded by a hail of plasma orbs which explode on contact, releasing all its pent up energy in heavier impact rounds. They aren’t perfectly accurate though, with some instead landing in the lava rivers and igniting small ruptures of their own which Meditat has to maintain distance from before needing to evade the black flashes that nearly graze him.

At the very least, the Fallen can be seen now standing on that very river being avoided, unmoved by its current nor affected by the heat washing on its clawed feet. That target visible out in the open, Meditat swipes his right hand towards it, releasing a flame that expands into what looks to be a large ballistic bullet, nearly three feet tall, fired straight for the pool. But upon nearing proximity, it proves itself more than just a shell as it self explodes before physical contact, releasing a burst of energy explosions greater than the mortar’s like an airburst. Amidst the airburst, the man in the air follows up with another flame off his palm that expands into a wide burst that refines into an array of smaller darts that all soar towards the same target, the individual projectiles far smaller yet the man dashes away as though it’s effect has greater risk to himself. Upon landing, the barrage of darts release their own explosions, each small but given that about ten were fired at once, chaos ensues from the hail of small energy eruptions, which do have an effect on the liquid lava by ripples however there is no noticeable environment impact on the stone or river itself even for those portions directly struck, as the energy still lacks any lethal intensity but instead merely carries a neutralizing dosage.

For despite that grand bombing, Meditat’s backwards dash lands him nearly colliding with the Fallen who is already standing behind him, not even having been witnessed vanishing as all the dart explosions covered any sight. Instinct declares this warning before collision, prompting Meditat to try dashing forward and spinning around but he’s already been seized by the shoulder, darkening the gray floor and sky into an absolute black.

When the space brightens once again, there is a return to a blue sky, specifically one of a warm cyan tone. As once again Meditat is thrown forward, he spins around to better survey his surroundings, finding that the intense light isn’t as consistent as was the bright blue sky in the forest and beach, but instead the atmosphere directly above is somewhat dark. The reason for this can be found from gazing at the source of the cyan colors, those coming from the cyan supersun which is beginning its descent into setting, enough in fact that despite its gargantuan size in the sky it is majorly losing reach in its solar rays due to being caught on the many various skyscrapers which, while diverse in the exact heights and general shapes, had a cohesive identity in that they had blue exteriors and sharper tops that were vaguely reminiscent of medieval tower roofs.

Between those highrises were also rivers of traffic above ground, in several layers in fact that spread between the blocks, more assimilating from further below by the roads and others separating higher into the atmosphere likely for interplanetary travel. The traffic was dense, understandable as this being evening time coincided with rush hour, meaning it was also fairly slow as the lag can be perceived even from afar.

In this quick survey, the simple rush of survival instincts that had been fueling Meditat becomes overshadowed by a far deeper dread, for he had understood almost immediately what storm was being brought into this city.

Still high in the air, least vastly higher than the city traffic and thus in a fairly open area given that the buildings in the blocks below were conveniently of the shorter variety, a plan was devised promptly which leads Meditat to stretch both arms to the side and emit streams of flames which after reaching the diameter of those blocks below begin spreading to form an enclosure around both him and the towering opponent in front of him who just watches in curiosity, choosing not to attack back.

Inside one of those many pods composing the dense network of traffic, which has an SUV-styled interior sporting white sleek seats, the front two seats are occupied with the left seat sat on by an older man in a blazer coat, seeming in his fifties given the receding gray hair and growing wrinkles though not to the extent of senility. Beside him is a younger teenage boy, perhaps around 16 or so, dressed in a casual black hoodie, and whereas the older man has a straight sitting posture, the boy slouches on the seat, digging his feet against the leg space.

The man who is presumably the driver not only due to age but also his focus directly ahead on the road just watches in silence as the pod’s speakers plays a recording of a conversation like a podcast, a man with a midwestern accent commenting: “Well that’s true, but I think what a lot of people ignore with these Enhancer medications Exhumans are using is that it’s not just about the power boost, it’s helping calm their mind. It’s like uh…here have you done G.R.T before?”

The boy beside him however is not focused on the road nor the podcast, but instead the three holographic screens sitting in front of his eyes, forming almost a panoramic enclosure providing him windows to the left that hold several chat applications given the familiar text log format, where on the right is a full screened video recording of a woman at a desk speaking though there’s no audio that can be heard outside, and in the center is a screen running some sort of video game given the cartoonish characters moving along an arena from a top-down perspective, shooting each other with fireballs and rocks.

Despite this constant flood of engagement, the teenager groans before grumbling: “When are we getting home?”

Sighing from this question that was clearly not asked for the first time, the father lowers his head and admits: “I don’t know, I didn’t think this route would be this bad. It’s always fine, I thought the Maps were just being weird so it would be better just ignoring it.”

Grumbling from the admission of uncertainty, the boy murmurs back: “That’s the point of the Maps app, Dad. It’s fine,” though before he can return focus to his screens, from the corner of his eye he notices a bright blue flash which captivates his gaze with black irises that strangely has small green text raining down, a superhuman trait though one used passively. Upon glancing at the flare, his entire head shifts as his jaw drops in bafflement, murmuring under his breath: “The fu-huh…,” in a quick recovery given his father’s immediate presence.

That response isn’t entirely unwarranted though, as the teenage boy watches that far above him above the blue towers of the city is what at first looks to be a huge explosion of blue flames just emitting from the sky, expanding out in all directions. However what’s even odder is that the flames seem to harden at a certain point of expansion, constricting the shape to a octahedron as wide as the blocks below it, the material at first having the appearance of glass though it’s as though the glass is shifting constantly from movement of individual plates, causing light distortions on the surface akin to the edges of a balloon, resulting in an almost ethereal structure whose surface is constantly animated with a rainbow.

Perhaps the exterior of the structure is strange, however the interior is vastly more peculiar, as while the exterior’s faces can be easily counted, from the interior it’s as though there’s both more and less faces, or rather the quantity continuously changes as panels keep shifting. These panels are mirrors too, every single one of them, lit up with precise controls to provide enough visibility without burning the structure from the inside. There is at least enough illumination for the Fallen to find itself surrounded by reflections of itself, but furthermore those reflections reflect off each other, cascading into an effect that’s difficult to properly comprehend simply due to the fact there’s no easy point of reference, there’s no distinguishment between the original reflections and those cast from each other. This mirror structure surrounds the Fallen first and foremost, though it’s quick to notice the countless reflections of the man in the blue suit who zips around the edges, using cables on the various panels coupled with boosts to remain hard to catch, understanding the self-inflicted danger of locking himself with this enemy.

Despite maintaining this great speed to avoid attacks, the Fallen doesn’t strike initially, but is simply perplexed by the construct built around him. At first it seems perhaps it too is fascinated by the workings of the device, but in fact there is another interest that takes priority, one noted: “You’re inconsistent, you’re concurrently underdeveloped yet clearly capable, and this strange reliance on this tactic…you’re aware of its ineffectiveness for victory yet you use it regardless. I’d have surmised incompetency…which is true to an extent but…there’s another factor dictating your actions.”

From all angles that the blue blur can be seen, a flame emits from his arm which transforms into a small turret that does seem to be mounted on a surface, though it’s hard to tell which one given it appears on several panels even if it seems only one was created. The turret in total length is a couple feet long, about the size of those used in the silo, nothing larger. It does rotate to the center before beginning to fire rapid blue bolts from seemingly all directions, though only from one direction is the stone armor being struck: the right shoulder. Even being able to target the true direction of the shots, the Fallen chooses not to immediately counter, but instead continue this contemplation: “I’ll admit you did surprise me, I did not expect you to have human allies of your own, but regardless your decisions on the pirate’s ship made little sense: you had the full capacity of destroying it yet therefore exterminating your opponents, you could have even simply evacuated your allies before doing so if their lives mattered to you, and yet you chose not to.”

Another turret is manifested from a blue flame which again aims and fires a rapid barrage at the Fallen, this one striking the left abdomen yet there’s still no response made as both streams of bolts seem to simply absorb into the stone without dealing any stress. There isn’t a perceivable waver in the voice that elaborates: “I don’t entirely understand your purpose for allies since you didn’t have them try to assault me, despite your childish insinuations. Perhaps you understood how ineffective they’d be, though I was stunned at the length you went to keep them away. Though not only that, you’ve continuously tried isolating me from other bystanders, the pirates, the patrol, even if it required using suboptimal attacks on me. Then again, you have been using suboptimal attacks this whole time, I don’t believe you’ve attempted a single fatal blow or anything remotely injuring. I admit, I truly did not believe Ookami would’ve survived a direct engagement with you, I expected his stubbornness to result in his death. He’s an interesting human, but you were beyond capable of permanently exterminating him.”

All the sudden the quick zips and dashes around the walls come to a halt as Meditat just abruptly stops, his figure being splintered across the many mirror panels which still makes targeting him difficult though without moving he makes himself far more vulnerable.

Even then he freezes simply in bewilderment to the statement, recognizing the conflicts in narrative to his own presumption of events in a murmur: “Wait…it wasn’t Ookami who orchestrated the mission?”

Ignoring that simple question as well as the two turrets shooting from opposite directions, the Fallen raises its head before studying, “I’ve deduced you to have values beyond your own self, which makes you far more respectable than your brother. But to the extent of these values…not only did you purposefully protect your allies from me…and you’ve been attempting to isolate any damage from bystanders…but you’d go so far as to protect your own opponents. So that’s what it is then, isn’t it?” Then, it immediately turns to face Meditat head on, not one of the many reflections but directly at the true body.

Horror strikes Meditat who staggers back, his body’s reaction urging him to begin zipping away from sightlines yet he remains frozen, entranced, especially realizing that he was still distinguishable even despite the complex mirrors. He just stares in silence, as while the mask cloaks any facial expression, the subtle shaking of his body senses a dire resolution, especially given the nonchalant mention of the brother, a fact no stranger should possess knowledge of.

Glaring with eyes first black but slowly brightening as caustics start to crawl behind the sockets, the Fallen deduces in its bold echoing voice: “The test should have been enough, but I finally understand you: you value all lives to the extent that you seek to protect them, even the ones directly opposing you.”

Staring straight back, body locked tightly in horrified anticipation, Meditat listens to the odd praise, “You are truly interesting, it would be untrue to call it inherently pathetic, though I admit I am partially disappointed, we were close to alignment between our goals but I understand now you’d likely stand against me. But now I understand you, which is sufficient. I’ll refrain from a debate between ideals, though I am curious about one aspect of your philosophy.”

More caustics flood behind the sockets to the point where they nearly shine white themselves, and once the Fallen merely asks: “Do you believe you can afford subpar measures against me?” before all the sudden black flashes appear sporadically all around its body at a rate far more intense than before, immediately decimating not only the active turrets but the entire mirror prison, piercing through the shifting panels to cut apart the whole structure into countless smaller fragments that begin to collapse, leaving Meditat as the only entity not to be destroyed.

Staggering backwards in the air after watching the construct fall apart with such ease that it’s uncertain if it ever had a tactical purpose that succeeded, Meditat hastily shuts both fists as all of the collapsing fragments burst into open blue flames that evaporate before any of them can drop onto the buildings below, glancing down to confirm such.

Attention is brought up again with the raise of Meditat’s head upon glimpses of black flashes appearing around the Fallen, to which he instinctively raises his hand forward and blasts a wide blue flame that hardens into a thick steel wall functioning as a shield, and while there is a loud reverberance of impact that can be heard in front of him, there are strangely no damages made to the wall. At first puzzlement taps Meditat, however upon hearing a much deeper sound akin to a heavy structure slowly crumbling, he immediately disperses the wall in an open flame and boosts forward, finding that right before his eyes, past the Fallen’s standing body, one of those blue skyscrapers begins to collapse due to having remarkable gaps along the body, cutting off multiple floors thereby heavily corroding stability to the extent that the upper half is no longer capable of remaining supported.

Horror floods Meditat’s body as he shrieks and propels himself towards the building, enveloping his body in blue light like the tail of a comet as both hands face forward and blast flames that are vastly larger than the ones ignited previously, as both of them are multiple magnitudes wider than his body, aimed straight for the center of the building where the gaps are the most prevalent. Reaching the building within a second’s fraction, the flame quickly swarms the entire perimeter that forms a seal over the destroyed cross section, materializing into a huge silver seal that has solid suction units attached to both the upper and lower rims of the building given the large mechanical arms stretching from both sides.

In the matter of a second, the building’s collapse is suspended as the great seal manages to return its stability, however down on the ground many of the citizens walking amongst the streets have already taken notice and begin to freak out in cries, running in the other direction from the tower that had nearly fallen.

Relief is brought to Meditat who gasps after the panic attack, naturally bending forward to catch his breath though his instincts kick in to dash backwards with another wall manifested in front of him upon two black flickers beside the Fallen who has appeared to his right.

Neither of the flickers damage the wall shield, however right behind Meditat there stand two tall towers both of which are abruptly severed, entire floors wiped out without even a physical projectile visible to hit it, gripping Meditat’s attention who turns around and kicks off the wall to thrust himself towards the neighboring towers beginning their collapse. He extends one hand to each of them, not just his hand but his whole arm erupting huge flames that spread out into a grid of wires like a net, reaching them just as his body races between the two. Both constructs materialize into great nets that cling onto the buildings, though every wire itself is the size of a temple’s pillar, sinking into the towers with powerful magnets that clamp on to protect the necessary structure.

Just as both buildings are saved between Meditat’s soaring body, debris of the initial destruction still raining down from both beside him, in between that hail emerges the Fallen who taunts, “You’re unfocused,” before simply kicking Meditat in the back, a physical attack that shreds his black cape and tears his suit, his exposed skin brutally bursting with a red splash as he’s hurtled beyond his own control forward.

Before he can stop himself, his body crashes through the blue metal exterior of one of those skyscrapers, breaking through every layer until he’s thrown inside a light gray shiny hallway filled with adults in professional attire, blazers and work skirts, who all scream and run in the other direction from the abrupt commotion.

Slowly pushing himself up to his feet, Meditat swiftly reconstructs the ruptured region of his body and covers it with patches for both in the blue suit and its complementary cape which drapes back on the floor before being picked up as the man stands and faces the other way, firing a blue flame out the hole which expands into a huge steel wall although paths of destruction appear beside it, entire rooms beside the hallway carved out in an instant which catches his stunted gaze. The very moment of his distracted glance, the Fallen pops up in front of him before another black sparkle pitches Meditat back down the hallway, crashing out the other end into a multi-floor lobby room given the sleek lounges furnished with sofas and tables quickly being abandoned, those on the rim bridges of the upper floors sprinting for the nearest doorway out. Following Meditat without moving linearly, the Fallen just presents itself inside the lounge, bringing more black twinkles which wildly carve deep holes all throughout the walls, holes that do not merely penetrate the lobby walls but every other physical object in the tunnel’s way, enough that the naked outdoors are exposed at the very ends of each of them. The single tunnels aren’t too concerning, however so many are made at every second, some of them close enough to widen gaps, chiseling away at the cross section enough to warrant full fear as Meditat desperately patches every tunnel with flames that materialize large putty solutions like clay to bind the building together. His focus splinters to everywhere but himself, unable to protect his body from a flash that knocks him back into the walls and hallways past the lobby until he eventually cracks through the other side, returning back outside where the wind violently grapples his cape.

His back facing down, his gaze is naturally up, which happens to be locked on where the Fallen simply levitates, and after a quick glance down Meditat is reminded of the dense traffic below him, more of it further away rising towards the atmosphere as those who were luckily distanced from the chaos take the opportunity for escape. However, the traffic closer to the action has only slowed down if anything, the terror in all the drivers causing the jam to worsen with none of them managing to cooperate with each other, resulting in them all being targets for the black flares revealing around the stone body.

Hastily Meditat’s body begins thrashing flaming streams down which expand into huge dome platforms like mushrooms each one made of solid metal with an additional umbrella of scaly energy shielding. Countless of these of various sizes emerge in just a second, attempting to cover the traffic below, using several layers of this metal canopy for reinforcement. Many of those comprising the top layer crumble at once, though at least there’s more below.

Inside that one SUV pod, the father has taken notice of the action, for how could he miss it when the sun has been blocked out by the huge umbrellas above him which shield from what sounds like a bombardment. Worry strikes his face as he anxiously glances back and to the sides, trying to find a direction for escape yet he’s stuck in traffic as beside him the teenage boy is no longer occupied with his holographic screens, instead similarly surveying the hectic trap they’re stuck in.

The podcast continues to play given the voices from the speakers, but none of them are comprehensible due to the bombings, with the only clear voice being the teenage boy’s who asks apprehensively, “Dad…what do we do??”

Realizing his own explicit despair, the dad turns his head to the boy with wide eyes, clearly unsure of the answer himself, but by turning his head away he doesn’t notice the blue body plummet right beside the pod, visible from the driver’s window. The boy does though, leaning towards the window and exclaiming: “Wait what was that??”

Plunging past the many layers of traffic, Meditat’s body passes the floating river and continues to drop towards the streets where floods of pedestrians frantically sprint away upon notice. Before crashing into the floor, a cable from each shoulder projects onto the buildings behind him, swinging his body upright, his feet dangling only a few feet above the running civilians at the end of the swing. His cape presses against his back, only separated by a microscopic spacing as per its subtle engineering, the breeze pushing in the direction of where the Fallen emerges in a blink, prompting Meditat to release flames from his feet which spread out across the street over the civilians, materializing a floor made of a translucent blue material still allowing vision of the pedestrians below but now under protection.

Skipping backwards off this barrier, Meditat crosses his arms forward as more cables project from his back to reel him in the other direction, separating him with both distance and physical barriers in the form of tall frosty crystal walls, however the ensuing black flares do not target his walls but rather the ones of the blue metal towers along the street, leaving huge gaps that begin to cause them to cave in if not for Meditat’s quick bursts that seals them with arrays of pillars, several layers behind one another for added support. While Meditat races backwards with dashes and zips, the Fallen just constantly appears close behind with the only movement being those black blinks, among others that strike countless buildings in just a few seconds given the velocity of the pursuit.

Understanding that at the moment he is the lead of this chase, Meditat opts to incline with cables raised higher, tactically distancing from the pedestrians on the ground as they were nearly entirely exposed. As predicted, the Fallen pursues only him, leaving those pedestrians behind as the two rise higher and higher, passing the layer of the city traffic which has managed to at least clear out in this street, resulting in no endangered drivers.

A minor quantity of relief helps to balance Meditat’s frantic thoughts, now seemingly able to focus on striking back as he aims both palms for the Fallen, ready to conjure a weapon to deliver a necessary counterattack.

That is when the opponent blinks once more, this time just a foot from the man, closing the distance to a menacing intimacy as it ominously comments, “You can do more,” a horde of black twinkles flaring all around the body which Meditat instinctively evades in a repulsive dash and reinforces himself with a handheld medieval-shaped shield that projects a much larger energy barrier, the corners of which are struck given their immediate degradation, however there were only a few impact points close to him.

At first perplexed, dread strikes him from that familiar sound of a tower collapsing, however rather than it coming from one distinct direction, there are many of them emitting from all.

Skyscrapers from all directions around the block where the two opponents hover are cut up with huge breaches made straight through them, some in perfect horizontal sections and others in diagonal slices. Not only the four in the corners, but the adjacent ones further along their respective streets and those behind start to depress, crumbling in on itself with bursts of debris raining down like a hailstorm.

Unable to hesitate, Meditat dashes backwards and relinquishes his shield to instead fling his arms in all directions, directing huge blazes from his hands but many more emerge from all around his body, each of them targeted for the tumbling towers. His entire body becomes drowned by the scale of the flames bursting from it, and those flames only expand further out from the body, about ten stories tall when they reach the skyscrapers before reshaping into a structure that wraps around the whole building.

These structures aren’t fully solid but instead composed a large pillar in the center from which many horizontal rings grow from like a ribcage, clamping onto the buildings whose cuts are inconsistent thus unable to be easily sealed, requiring a solution more generalizable. These behemoths tighten their white metal grips onto the buildings while emitting a blue-tinted field within it, like a magnetic field which slows down the plunge of the debris before suspending it altogether.

All of the rib cage structures succeed in stopping the collapse of the skyscrapers, as while the debris that had already escaped continues to rain down on the city, the substantial damages have been controlled.

Continuing to fly backwards in continuous dashes, Meditat surveys the recovered buildings to confirm their safety, however his attention is locked ahead to find the opponent standing in the air right in front of him, carrying a cold criticism: “You’re seeking the lowest scale solution,” which is followed with a drastically higher number of black flickers that the man avoids with another frosty wall, taking the brunt of a few impacts given the cracks made, however he finds that the vast majority once again seek the towers around them.

To additional dread though, Meditat finds in his search that the impacted skyscrapers were not simply cut once, but rather a severe number of times that results in several breaches all along the body from the base to its peak, each breach at a unique angle but all of them cleanly opening up full divisions that are naturally filled in by the upper chunks, leading to a collapse far quicker.

Furthermore, there isn’t a single breach to seal, as some towers have been sliced in so many areas that trying to account for all the individual hollowings would be infeasible especially with the quantity of chopped buildings. Again not only were the few buildings immediately adjacent to the street affected, but many many blocks in all directions factors greater than the last attack, all of them struck in many angles from such a cruel barrage.

Acknowledging that precision wouldn’t be a useful skill, Meditat tenses his hands before bellowing as his entire body bursts in a huge blaze like a great gas explosion, and from this burst fling countless huge flaming meteors in all directions towards the various crumbling buildings, arching like the lava of an erupted volcano.

Multiple of these meteors made of pure flames impact the same buildings, as rather than constructing a mechanism to attach onto one specific region of the tower, these meteors instead spread over the entire building, forming an additional wall not to patch the torn material but layer over it altogether.

In seconds, multiple blocks of skyscrapers tall enough to cover the sky are engulfed in azure flames, wrapping the blue metal in a fiery casing, a hellish sight in front of the intensely warm supersun behind those very structures. The buildings reminiscent of medieval towers become pillars of fire, burning under the darkening evening sky.

At once, all of those flaming buildings cool and harden with solid new exteriors made of a gray material like clay, though unlike it being in a soft putty state, this material has hardened to a glassy texture more akin to its counterpart’s baked form. The buildings that have been covered no longer carry that same metallic nature, contrasting the gleaming blue towers with these glistening light gray pillars, losing the original identity of the city but more importantly still standing in it.

At the center of the dispersed blaze, Meditat huffs profusely from the great expense, practically having built his own city block in seconds, seemingly no limit to how far he’d be pushed in this battle he hadn’t anticipated at the start of the recovery expedition.

In spite of it all, in front of Meditat’s hovering body stands the Fallen, the posture still the same, no fatigue even remotely detectable. Its arms remain at its side, standing in the air, as if priming for another assault.

Expectations for required power output no longer being applicable, Meditat raises both hands which burst in flames, understanding that continued escalation would be truly pushing the limitations of what he’s done, thus he needs any minor advantage he can gain even if it’s simply preparing himself before more flickers can show themselves.

Falling into the rhythm of this chaotic noise, debris riddling the streets, the traffic rising into the atmosphere far higher from the mass evacuation at least in this region of the city, what could only be anticipated would be another, more intense attack on the populated environment.

At this point, counterattack wasn’t a priority, as he hadn’t found a reliable solution to pushing back on the enemy. Other than the fluke at the start of the fight, it seemed as if this opponent was truly invincible, invulnerable, and especially when there were innocents in the area, it was only natural to prioritize their safety as that was one objective he could more reasonably succeed at even though it was more than likely that lives by now had been lost even if a few, as it was unfortunately ignorantly optimistic to hope the decimated floors were vacant.

Yet all he could do was prepare for another attack, unable to fight back, exhaustion creeping up on him from this long gauntlet, a plan for absolute victory not in mind as there wasn’t the mental space to effectively devise one. There was no end in sight, and all Meditat could do was save as many lives as possible, knowing more would be continually at risk.