Kyon's First Person Point Of View.

The hum of my Flux was my anchor, constant and steady. Its gentle resonance grew louder as I drew upon it, letting it spread through every fiber of my being. My breathing slowed. The chaos of the staircase—the cracked railing, the faint stench of blood in the air, even the faint metallic tang of Vincent’s adrenaline—faded into the background. I didn’t need my eyes. They couldn’t keep up with him anyway. But my Echo Flux could.

I spread it outward, feeling everything—the slight tremor in the staircase as Vincent’s boots lightly pressed against it, the subtle shifts in the air as his weight adjusted, the vibrations of tiny insects burrowing in the cracks of the wall. It all came to me, sharp and vivid, each sensation lighting up like a constellation in my mind.

And then, through the Pulse, Kadir’s voice reached me.

“You don’t need a thousand punches, Kyon,” he said, his tone calm but firm, cutting through the haze of tension in my chest. “One. That’s all you need. Feel it. Feel the lightning coursing through your veins. Feel the air shift around him, the pressure that doesn’t belong to you. The world is already telling you everything. Just listen.”

I clenched my fists, letting his words settle into me. One punch. That was all. I didn’t need to overwhelm him; I just needed to be precise. My heart slowed as I focused, visualizing the energy flowing through me. My Arkamon Flux, reddish-brown and warm, pulsed in response. It wasn’t just a shield. It was a part of me, an extension of my will. I had to feel it. Envision it. Become it.

“You’re still only thinking about the outside,” Kadir’s voice reminded me, steady and insistent. “Arkamon Flux isn’t just a barrier. It’s in you. It is you. Align with it. Timing, precision. Find the flow.”

I closed my eyes and let go of the fear and the pain. My consciousness expanded, and for the first time, I truly felt it—the depth of what my Flux could do. It wasn’t just a defense or an attack. It was a rhythm, a current I could swim through if I trusted myself to move with it. My mind sharpened, my awareness growing. The hum of my Flux deepened, resonating with my pulse, and I felt the air shift again.

Vincent moved.

I didn’t see him. I didn’t need to. The shift in the air was enough. He wasn’t just toying with me now—he was coming for the kill. His intent was sharp and cold, radiating off him like frost. His figure blurred, vanishing from the staircase, but my Echo Flux tracked him. I felt the motion, the buildup of force, the chilling finality of the strike he intended to deliver. A karate chop, aimed straight for the center of my forehead. It descended like a guillotine, the air compressing around it with deadly precision.

The moment slowed.

Through my Flux, I saw him as if illuminated by lightning—a dark silhouette in a pristine butler’s suit, his pale skin stretched over sharp features, his eyes gleaming with the malice of three millennia. Vincent, the predator, poised to end me. But I was ready.

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I dropped my shield.

It was a risk—a gamble that could kill me if I failed. But I had to do it. As the Flux barrier fell, I felt the full weight of his attack closing in, the force of it pressing against my senses like a tidal wave. But I didn’t hesitate. I moved.

Time slowed even further, each fraction of a second stretching into an eternity. My fist drew back, the reddish-brown energy of my Flux surging into it. It wasn’t just a punch—it was a conduit for every ounce of power I could muster, the kinetic energy amplifying as my Flux linked to Vincent’s body. I could feel the connection forming before the blow even landed, a spark that bridged the space between us.

And then, I struck.

The moment my fist made contact with Vincent’s liver, the world seemed to ignite. My Flux surged into him, not just hitting him but flowing through him. I didn’t just feel it—I saw it. The reddish-brown energy coursed through his veins, illuminating his body from the inside out like a network of molten rivers. The liver, one of the most fragile yet crucial organs, became the epicenter of devastation.

His blood ignited first, the cells disintegrating at a molecular level. His heart burst, and in the same instant, his brain lit up like a dying star as signals misfired. His spinal cord fractured under the force, the shockwave of energy tearing through him faster than he could even react.

For a split second, Vincent’s body jerked, his features frozen in a grotesque mask of shock and pain. Then the energy surged upward and downward simultaneously, and he exploded from within.

The force of the blow hurled him backward like a ragdoll. His body slammed into the staircase wall with such ferocity that the concrete cracked and splintered, a web of destruction radiating outward from the point of impact. But it didn’t stop there. Before he could even scream, his body combusted, the energy reducing him to ash in a heartbeat. The wall where he’d hit was scarred with his shadow, a blackened outline of what had once been Vincent, etched into the crumbling stone.

Silence fell.

I stood there, my fist still extended, trembling with the aftershock of the energy I had unleashed. My chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath, the hum of my Flux still echoing faintly in my ears. It was over. Vincent was gone.

But then, the air shifted again.

A moment of clarity struck me—Vincent wasn’t the only one who had been hit. The force of his final attack, the karate chop I had evaded, hadn’t disappeared. The air pressure it had generated slammed into me the moment my Arkamon shield fell. My shield had softened the blow, dispersing most of the force, but not enough.

Pain exploded in the back of my skull as the shockwave knocked me off my feet. My head hit the floor hard, the world tilting violently as stars danced across my vision. The staircase spun around me, and I could feel the cold concrete pressing against my cheek. My body screamed in protest, every nerve raw and alight.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. My breathing was ragged, shallow, the pain in my chest and head merging into a single, unrelenting throb. But I was alive. That much I knew.

Kadir’s voice, faint but steady, broke through the haze. “Get up, Kyon. You’re not done yet.”

I groaned, forcing my arms to push against the floor. My limbs felt like lead, my Flux sputtering weakly around me, but I knew I couldn’t stay down. Vincent was gone, but the battle wasn’t over. There was always another threat waiting in the shadows, and I couldn’t afford to rest.

As I staggered to my feet, the world around me came back into focus. The staircase was a wreck, the walls cracked and scarred, the air thick with the scent of burnt ozone. And yet, even in the midst of the destruction, I felt a strange sense of calm.

I had survived. But the fight was far from over.

Conrad was next.