Kyon's First Person Point Of View.

Faraday was down. He wasn’t dead—his body twitched, his broken form sprawled on the staircase in front of me—but he wasn’t getting back up anytime soon. I couldn’t afford to think about him or anything else. My focus was entirely forward, locked on the vampire standing in my path.

Everything about him screamed danger—the sharp gleam in his eyes, the eerie calm in his posture, the faint smirk playing on his lips. I could tell he wasn’t here to kill me quickly. No, this one wanted to break me. To rip away the stubborn fire he must have seen in my gaze and leave me hollow, just another victim of his cruelty.

“You’re not what I expected,” Vincent said, his voice almost conversational, as if we were discussing the weather. “For all the noise about you, I thought you’d be... more.” He gestured vaguely, his smirk widening. “That light in your eyes... I’ll enjoy snuffing it out.”

I didn’t bother responding. Words wouldn’t mean anything to him, and I needed every ounce of focus to prepare myself. My Arkamon Flux shield flared faintly around me, the protective aura humming as it responded to my rising adrenaline.

Then Vincent moved.

He didn’t lunge or charge like the other vampires I’d faced. He simply vanished, slipping into the shadows with such speed that it felt like he’d dissolved into the air itself. My instincts screamed, and I braced myself, but nothing could have prepared me for the impact that followed.

It wasn’t what I expected. I didn’t feel the direct impact of a fist or a kick. Instead, a crushing force hit me in the ribs, not directly, but just outside my shield. It felt like a sudden detonation, air compressed into a devastating blow that sent me staggering backward . I spun around, trying to locate him, but he was gone.

I barely had time to recover before another hit came, this one slamming into my shoulder and spinning me toward the wall.

“You’re slow,” Vincent mocked, his voice echoing from somewhere above. I looked up and spotted him perched casually against the wall, as if gravity didn’t apply to him. His feet rested on the vertical surface like it was solid ground, his arms folded in mock disinterest. “How are you going to survive if you can’t even keep up?”

I didn’t answer. My head was spinning, my shield barely holding together as the vibrations from his attacks coursed through me. He vanished again, and another blow landed—this time on my back. The force of it drove me forward, nearly knocking me to my knees.

The narrow staircase left me with no room to maneuver, no way to escape his relentless assault. Vincent wasn’t attacking head-on like Faraday had. This wasn’t brute force. It was something far more dangerous—precision.

It took several more hits—each one jarring, each one leaving me more unsteady—before I realized what he was doing. He wasn’t trying to break my shield with raw power. Instead, he was stopping just short of it, using the air itself to deliver concentrated bursts of pressure.

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A one-inch punch.

The realization hit me almost as hard as his attacks. He wasn’t making physical contact, but the explosive force of his strikes was enough to bypass my defenses. And he wasn’t aiming at just one spot. Vincent’s blows came from every direction—front, back, left, right, above—each one timed to keep me off balance and unable to recover. And the worst part? It was working.

My feet slid against the concrete stairs as I struggled to stay upright. Every hit sent a wave of force rippling through me, knocking me off balance. I couldn’t move. The narrow confines of the stairwell left me no room to dodge, no space to maneuver.

He wasn’t just fast; he was everywhere at once.

He darted along the walls, his movements so quick they blurred together. One second he was in front of me, the next he was behind me, his hand slicing through the air like a blade.

Another strike came from above, a sharp karate chop that crashed down on my shield. The force was so intense that it drove my feet into the concrete, cracks spiderwebbing outward from where I stood. My legs trembled as I struggled to stay upright, the weight of his assault pressing down on me like a collapsing building.

“Pathetic,” Vincent sneered, his voice cold and mocking. “Do you even understand what you’re up against? I’ve faced Flux users who could obliterate cities. Real warriors. And you...” He laughed, the sound sharp and grating. “You’re nothing but a child playing with powers you don’t understand.”

I clenched my fists, ignoring the burning pain in my chest. My shield was flickering now, the strain of his relentless attacks pushing it to its limits.

Vincent circled me, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring my struggle. “Your precious Flux burns us, doesn’t it?” he said, his tone almost conversational. “But do you think that scares me? I’ve been fighting your kind for three thousand years. I’ve killed Flux users who could crush you with a thought. Do you really think you’ll be any different?”

He disappeared again, and I barely had time to react before another blow struck my ribs, this time so hard that I was sent crashing into the staircase railing. The metal groaned under the impact, bending slightly from the force.

He was moving too fast for my Flux to flow through him, too fast for me to react. My shield couldn’t keep up. And any small burns he sustained on his knuckles from being so close to my Flux were meaningless—they healed almost instantly.

“You’re resilient, I’ll give you that,” Vincent said, reappearing a few steps above me. He looked down with a smug grin, his pale face shadowed in the dim light. “But it won’t matter. Your Flux can’t save you. You’ll break, just like the others.”

I steadied myself, forcing my trembling legs to hold firm. My breathing was ragged, each inhale sharp and painful, but I refused to collapse.

Then, amidst the chaos, I heard it.

A voice.

Kadir’s voice.

It wasn’t loud or forceful. In fact, it was barely more than a whisper, but it cut through the haze of pain and panic like a blade.

“Calm yourself, Kyon. Breathe.”

I swallowed hard, trying to focus on the words. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, but I forced myself to listen.

“You’re wasting energy,” Kadir said, his tone steady and patient. “You can’t fight him like this. Flux is about timing. Precision. Stop reacting blindly. Feel the flow.”

I closed my eyes for the briefest moment, ignoring the sting of Vincent’s next strike. My breathing slowed, my mind sharpening as I focused on Kadir’s guidance.

“Focus on your Flux,” he continued. “Visualize it. Let it flow through you. It’s not about brute strength—it’s about alignment. Timing. All it takes is one hit. But you have to wait for your moment.”

The words resonated deep within me, anchoring me amidst the storm. I could feel the Flux coursing through me, a current of energy waiting to be harnessed.

Vincent lunged at me again, his movements a blur of shadow and speed. But this time, I didn’t flinch.

I waited.

And I felt it—the moment of impact, the fleeting instant when everything aligned.