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The Last Blur
The Last Blur

The Last Blur

The speedster blurred through the crumbling cathedral, each strike faster than the last. Dust and broken stone floated like slow-motion echoes of destruction in his wake. His fists shattered columns, split pews, and tore apart the ancient floor, but the man at the center of the chaos was always a step ahead.

The precog sidestepped a marble shard hurtling through the air, his movements eerily calm. He wasn’t running; he was waiting. His coat fluttered in the wake of the speedster’s attacks, his eyes tracking not the chaos but its source.

“You think you’re the weapon,” the precog called, his voice carrying above the cacophony. “But you’re just the tool.”

The speedster skidded to a halt, kicking up a cloud of stone dust. His chest heaved, his eyes narrowing to predatory slits. “You talk like you’ve already won,” he snarled, his voice low and sharp. “But you’re just stalling. You can’t keep dodging me.”

“I’m not dodging,” the precog said, tilting his head. “I’m steering.”

For the briefest flicker of a second, the speedster hesitated, doubt flashing across his face. The precog caught it and smiled. “You’re wondering, aren’t you? Why your hits aren’t landing. Why you’re the one reacting.”

The speedster roared and charged again, zigzagging in an unpredictable pattern. His fists blurred as he closed the distance, aiming for the head, the ribs, the knees, anywhere to break his opponent down. But the precog moved with uncanny precision, as if he were reading a script already written. Every dodge led them deeper into the ruins of the cathedral.

“You don’t even know why you’re here,” the precog said, his voice a calm counterpoint to the storm of strikes. “Do you think this is about you? About me? It’s not. It’s about what you are. A relic of a world that never thought to ask if it should.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The speedster’s attacks faltered for a split second—a hesitation so brief no one else would notice. But the precog did. He stepped back, his foot catching a loose chain on the floor. With a subtle kick, he shifted the chain into the speedster’s path.

The speedster stumbled, his ankle catching. Momentum carried him forward, sending him crashing through a broken pew. Splinters and dust filled the air as he scrambled to his feet, his eyes blazing with fury.

“You planned this,” the speedster growled. “Every step.”

The precog’s smirk widened. “Every step. Every strike. Every mistake you were always going to make.”

The speedster darted forward again, his speed more erratic, his movements wild with desperation. But this time, the precog wasn’t just evading. He was guiding. A subtle shift here, a sidestep there, and the speedster was funneled into a narrow corridor of debris. Beams jutted from the walls like jagged teeth, rubble piled high on either side.

“Fighting you is like sculpting marble,” the precog said. “Every move you make chisels away your options until there’s only one outcome left.”

The speedster lunged, his fist blazing forward, faster than thought. It connected with the precog’s ribs, shattering the air with the force of the blow. But the precog didn’t fall. He caught the speedster’s wrist in a firm grip, his gaze steady.

“I already saw this,” he said.

The speedster’s eyes widened as the air filled with a low rumble. The punch had triggered the final piece of the precog’s trap. Above them, the remaining roof began to collapse. Massive beams and jagged stone plummeted toward the speedster.

“No!” the speedster shouted, his voice lost in the thunder of falling debris. He tried to dart away, but his speed only carried him deeper into the collapse. When the dust settled, he lay pinned beneath a mountain of rubble, his body twitching with futile effort.

The precog knelt beside him, brushing dust from his coat. “This isn’t about me,” he said, his voice quiet now. “It’s about what comes after. You were the fastest. The strongest. And it wasn’t enough.”

The speedster’s breathing was ragged, his fury dimming into something hollow. “Why?” he rasped.

The precog stood, stepping back into the fading light of the broken cathedral. “Because the world you came from is over. And this is the beginning of something new.”

He turned and walked away, leaving the ruins and the broken speedster behind, the silence heavy with the weight of a future already set in motion.

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