The next thing Naamala felt was a striking pain in her left shoulder. Looking down on herself, she could see the end of a metal spear sticking out of her shoulder. Only a heartbeat later and the mysterious enemy pulled the spear impaling Naamala out of her shoulder. This forced Naamala to topple forwards, blood gushing out of the freshly inflicted wound. After catching her balance, Naamala slowly turned around, facing a mysterious figure, a grim smirk on his face. Naamala studied his uniform. It was widely similar to the uniforms of the people she just fought, with the major difference of him not wearing a helmet. Naamala also noticed the missing projectors on the sides of his shoulders, normally projecting the club symbol in a bright red. Instead, this person had a violet hologram of the club symbol pinned to his chest on his right.
A higher rank? Naamala wondered silently. Maybe a general? Not high enough to be numbered though. He must be stronger than that cannon fodder just now. I should focus, this fight might actually be difficult in my condition. Without giving Naamala further time to ponder, the general sprang into action, with a twisting movement he aimed the spear towards Naamala’s right shoulder this time. Naamala recognizing his target, dodged away from the spear, hopping backwards, with her right shoulder leading the way. The general, not stopping his barrage of strikes, strove forwards with each stab of his spear, pushing Naamala further backwards. Naamala, realizing that she cannot keep this up or she will be trapped in a little bit, decided to jump further back with the next stab of her opponent. She knew, I have to close the gap between us, he has the range advantage, as soon as I get close enough, I can beat him. During the windup of her opponent’s next attack, she used the extra space she had just generated to gain momentum and running straight towards the general. The general sighing in a taunting manner took another step forward, using his entire momentum to propel his spear as fast and as far forward as possible, aiming for Naamala’s head this time.
Naamala, expecting the next stab of her opponent, fell down to the ground, transitioning her momentum to a slide in the direction of her enemy. The slide, just low enough to dodge the spear was too slow to reach Naamala’s opponent in time. Her opponent, registering he had missed and what she was doing, used the swing forward of the spear to extend the strike. He used the momentum of the strike to swing at Naamala who was below his spear with the other side of the spear, hitting her right in the chest and stopping her in motion. Furthermore, the momentum and speed allowed him to push her away from him. “Too slow,” he said while flinging Naamala like a sandbag through the air, away from him.
Bhalt spectating the whole scenario in front of his eyes now had Naamala flying right towards him. Trying to decide on what to do best in this split second before Naamala would crash right into him, he came to a decision. He steadied himself for the impact, expanded his arms towards Naamala and was able to catch her, with hardly any force knocking him back. He noticed the blocked Yri returning to him, turning his focused face into a grim smile.
Naamala, startled by the relatively softer impact than what she expected, shifted her gaze upwards, looking straight at Bhalt. Noticing his weird smirk, she hastily freed herself out of his grip, and pushed him away from her, with a disgusted expression. “Uh…” Bhalt stuttered, “uhm, uh… sorry I was just…” before he could finish his sentence, Naamala turned away from him and with a strong voice: “Whatever, just… Leave, I can take him on my own. Take Favian and clear a path out of this station.” Bhalt nodded, even though Naamala wasn’t able to see him anymore. Next you could hear Bhalt’s footsteps quickening away from this encounter.
The general, going into a frenzy, shouted: “Where do ya think ya going?” Naamala stand astonished from his speed. Just a second ago the general had to have been at least 25, if not 50 meters away from her, but now he was about to rush right past her. Not ready for the general’s speed, Naamala’s attempt at gripping the general almost failed, luckily, she managed to get ahold of a little cloth of his attire. Feeling this thick and strong material in her hands, she tucked at it with so much force that she threw the general back. The general twisting in the air, landed on his feet only a couple of meters in front of Naamala, a fierce expression marking his face. “I am your opponent,” Naamala said as she emerged into a sprint towards him. With an annoyed look on his face, the general probed the question: “Have ya not learned anythin?” Naamala chose to ignore his taunt, seeing him wind up his strike once more her mind smithing a plan. I am faster this time. If I was this fast earlier, I would’ve been able to knock him off his feet. Will he acknowledge this difference in speed? Will he react accordingly? Should I go for a slide again? Will he react fast enough? No. As the tip of the spear was about to hit Naamala up front, she surged into a vault, jumping over the spear, and towering far over her opponent, noticing her opponent’s surprised face. Naamala twisted in her grand leap, so that when she landed behind her opponent, she was facing his back. She knew she had to act fast, not giving her opponent any window of opportunity to turn around. She wound up an excessive punch, concentrating all the Yri inside her into the shoulder and fist. Expanding her arm, she landed her punch right into the left ribcage of her opponent. She was not fast enough to hit his spine. He was able to dodge her punch somewhat. Still, she hit him with almost full force, the sound of bones cracking waving through the air like thunder.
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The general toppled forward in his dodge, with the massive blow to the left of his ribcage, he lost some of his balance. He jumped away from where he just stood, turning towards where Naamala had been just a moment ago, but she was not there anymore. The next thing he felt was a punch into his right side. Knowing that he cannot stay in this position if he wants to dodge Naamala’s punches he dodged away from the direction he was punched just a second ago. Using Yri to increase his speed he was able to get enough distance from Naamala, not before Naamala landed two more kicks on his chest and his right leg though.
Exhausted, the general looked towards Naamala, getting back into a fighting position, the spear dangling in front of him. He slightly tilts his head to the side, letting some blood flow out of his mouth, before spitting all the rest out. Naamala, her eyes focused on the tip of her opponent’s spear noticed the wound on her left shoulder being almost healed again, she could finally use her left arm freely again, but wanted to hide this fact from her enemy. A third time, she emerged into a frenzy, running straight at her opponent. She knew, this had to be the last time, she was still not back to her full strength. A debris was about to fall from the roof once more, dodging this to the left, Naamala lost focus of the general for a split second. That split second was enough for the general to spring into action. The next time Naamala tried to focus on her opponent she observed the spear her opponent was fighting with the entire time, flying through the air, aimed at her head. One heartbeat later, Naamala came to a full stop, her right hand trying to catch the spear that was about to penetrate her head, futile. Her last saving grace her left hand, which she hastily lifted in front of her face, the spear impaling her palm. She felt all the Yri that was collected in the spear. The impact of her hand with the spear slowed it down enough for her to grip the spear with her right hand as well. The spear stopped, the tip of the spear only a few centimeters away from her right eye. The spear impaled her left hand effortlessly. But she knew, she won, if she acted fast enough.
He is not yet sure, whether the spear hit me or not. He doesn’t know whether I’m dead or not. In a swift motion, Naamala pulled the spear out of her hand, throwing it to the ground next to her and diving onto her opponent. With a hole in the palm of her left hand, she grabbed the general’s throat and lifted him off the surface. He was dangling in the air, his attempts to escape: fruitless. One last time, Naamala gathered as much Yri as possible in her right hand, readying herself for a punch. “Please”, were the last words Naamala was able to hear from the general she faced, before her punch landed on his chest. Her fist was cracking through his bones but did not stop, squashing his heart with his own broken bones. Blood was spraying out of his chest, when Naamala retracted her fist, only a hole in the chest of a lifeless body remained.