But the battle was far from over. The man, despite the spectral hands' grip, managed to tear free with a burst of raw power. The room was a whirlwind of chaotic energy, with sparks of metal and splintered concrete flying in every direction. Vas was pushed to his limits, every strike and dodge a testament to his willpower and determination.

As the fight dragged on, Vas's exhaustion became evident. The strain of using Fuerza Eterna and Anima Pulses took its toll, and the spectral hands of Garra del Abismo were starting to wane. But he couldn't afford to relent. With a final surge of effort, he aimed to end the fight, channeling every ounce of his remaining strength into one last, decisive attack.

Vas, drenched in sweat and barely managing to catch his breath, faced his opponent with steely resolve. The room was a scene of destruction, with debris scattered around and the walls scarred by the violent clash. The hybrid man, despite being battered and slowed by the spectral hands of Garra del Abismo, was still a formidable foe, his mechanical limbs whirring and sparking as they continued their relentless assault.

Vas's muscles burned from the exertion of Fuerza Eterna and Anima Pulses. Each movement was a struggle, his body weighed down by fatigue and pain. His once sharp reflexes were now sluggish, but he couldn't afford to let up. He needed to end this fight, and soon.

Summoning his remaining strength, Vas charged at the hybrid once more. The man, now showing signs of significant damage, swung his mechanical arms in a wide arc. Vas dodged the attack, his movements less fluid but still precise. He knew he had to strike at the vulnerable points if he was to have any chance of victory.

With a fierce cry, Vas activated his chakrams, now glowing with a dim, residual energy. He aimed for the man's limbs, targeting the joints where metal met flesh. The hybrid, despite his weakened state, attempted to counterattack, but Vas was relentless. He struck with brutal efficiency, his strikes powered by the last reserves of Fuerza Eterna.

His first strike sliced cleanly through one of the hybrid's arms, severing it with a sickening crunch. The man roared in pain, but Vas didn't hesitate. He followed up with a swift, precise cut to the remaining arm, leaving the hybrid disarmed and reeling.

The hybrid staggered, its remaining legs struggling to support its weight. Vas, barely able to stand, pushed through his exhaustion. He knew this was his chance to finish the fight. With a final, desperate surge of energy, he lunged at the hybrid's legs. His chakrams whirred through the air, cutting through the metal and flesh with a series of rapid, precise strikes.

The first leg fell, collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud. The hybrid tried to crawl, but its mobility was severely impaired. Vas, sweat streaming down his face, gritted his teeth and pressed on. He aimed for the remaining leg, his movements shaky but determined. With one last, powerful strike, he severed the second leg, leaving the hybrid incapacitated.

The hybrid's form collapsed in a crumpled heap on the floor, its mechanical parts sparking and whirring in a disorganized mess. The room fell eerily silent, the only sound the faint hum of the hybrid's damaged systems and Vas's labored breathing.

Exhausted and battered, Vas stumbled back, leaning against the nearest wall for support. His body ached from the relentless combat, his muscles trembling with fatigue. The remnants of Fuerza Eterna and Anima Pulses slowly dissipated, leaving him drained and weak.

As he caught his breath, he surveyed the wreckage of the fight. The hybrid was defeated, but the cost was evident. Vas's clothes were torn, and blood and sweat mixed with the grime of battle. Every breath was a struggle, and his vision swam with fatigue.

Vas was slipping into unconsciousness, his vision blurring and his thoughts growing hazy. Just before darkness claimed him, he glimpsed a figure standing over him, its silhouette sharp against the dim light. The figure was clad in the distinct attire of his grandfather's operatives, confirming Vas's suspicion that Gerald's men were never far from his side. Feeling a wave of relief, Vas allowed himself to stop fighting the exhaustion and let his body surrender to the much-needed rest.

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The figure watched as Vas's breathing evened out, his body finally succumbing to the strain of the battle. Without a word, the operative lifted his hand, and a holographic screen materialized in the air. Gerald's stern face appeared on the screen, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the scene.

"How did it go?" Gerald's voice was calm but carried the weight of his expectations.

"Master Vas is undoubtedly a Bonded," the operative replied, his tone respectful. "He excelled in the fight, displaying both strength and tactical precision. His abilities are far beyond what we anticipated."

Gerald's expression softened into a warm, satisfied smile. "That's very good news," he said, his voice tinged with a rare note of pride. "Ensure that he's taken out of there safely. We'll attribute his condition to the explosion—nothing more."

The operative hesitated for a moment before asking, "Are we to keep his status as a Bonded a secret?"

Gerald's face grew stern, his eyes locking onto the operative's through the screen. "Under no circumstances is this information to be shared. Do you understand? Not a word to anyone, not even to Vas himself."

The operative nodded, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. "Understood, sir."

With that, Gerald disconnected the call, the holographic screen fading into nothingness. The operative turned his attention back to Vas, who lay motionless on the ground. He moved with practiced efficiency, carefully lifting Vas's unconscious body.

As he carried Vas through the wreckage, the operative replayed the events he had witnessed. Vas's quick thinking had saved lives when he detected the impending explosion, and his fall through the collapsing floor had been nothing short of remarkable—he had navigated the perilous drop with an agility that spoke of years of rigorous training. The operative couldn't help but admire how Vas's extensive preparation had paid off in a moment of crisis.

Everyone in the Hek family knew that Vas spent more time training than any of his siblings. Most believed it was because he lacked the powers that came with being Bonded, that he was compensating for what he didn't have. But now, the operative realized that Vas's dedication had deeper roots—roots that had nothing to do with his Bonded status and everything to do with who he was as a person.

Watching Vas fight had been an eye-opening experience. There was a raw power in his movements, a battle-hardened precision that seemed out of place for someone so young. Yet, it was more than just skill that had struck the operative. There was a transformation in Vas when he fought—a shift in his demeanor that made him seem like an entirely different person. The calm, calculating Vas who navigated social settings with ease was replaced by a fierce, relentless warrior in combat. It was as if he was born for battle, his mind and body operating on an instinctual level that far surpassed his peers.

The operative couldn't help but compare Vas to his siblings. Jacob was the one he felt the closer to Vas, and while skilled, still showed moments of hesitation in the heat of battle, moments of doubt that could cost him dearly. Vas, on the other hand, displayed an unwavering focus that set him apart. His mentality was leagues ahead, a maturity forged through experience and a relentless drive to push his limits.

As the operative made his way out of the ruins with Vas in his arms, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just witnessed the emergence of something—or someone—truly extraordinary. And though Vas was unaware of the full extent of his own potential, the operative knew that it was only a matter of time before the world would come to see what he had seen in that fight: Vas was not just a Hek by name, but a force to be reckoned with.

The operative observed Vas's unconscious form cradled in his arms, his thoughts lingering on the young man's resilience and the burdens he carried. It was evident that Vas's maturity stemmed not just from rigorous training but also from the profound isolation he had endured within his own family. The lack of close bonds and constant solitude had forced him to grow up faster than any child should, shaping him into a stoic and self-reliant individual. A pang of sympathy stirred within the operative; it was a sobering thought that someone so young had been denied a normal childhood, trading carefree days for relentless self-improvement and silent endurance.

Despite his curiosity, the operative couldn't fathom why Vas chose to conceal his status as a Bonded, nor could he understand Gerald's insistence on maintaining this secrecy. The layers of mystery surrounding the Hek family were deep and convoluted, but questioning such matters was beyond his station. His duty was clear: ensure Vas's safety and follow orders without hesitation.