another daily chapter !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Akira ran through the ruins of the jungle, through the smoke and ash and shattered trees, his body broken, his left arm gone, his flas fading slowly. He ran because running was the only option left.
Behind him, the ground shook.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Muscular's footsteps echoed through the forest. Each one was like a detonation. Each one closer than the last. The fully transford Nomu-hybrid was chasing him through the forest at a pace that turned trees into kindling and earth into craters. He was tearing through the jungle in a straight line, smashing through anything that stood between him and his prey.
Akira weaved between the remaining trees, using the canopy for cover, changing direction every few seconds. His body scread at him with every step. The cauterised stump of his left shoulder pulsed with a deep, bone-level ache that his blue flas couldn't fully suppress. His ribs rubbed against each other. His Overdrive was running on fus, the blue enhancent flickering across his skin like a dying lightbulb.
He needed ti. Just a few minutes. Ti to catch his breath, to let the flas recover enough stamina to mount so kind of counterattack, to think of a plan that didn't involve hitting Muscular with attacks that didn't work.
Muscular sadly, didn't give him ti.
A tree to Akira's left was shattered. Muscular had punched through it without slowing down, the trunk disintegrating into splinters that peppered Akira's back as he dove forward. He rolled, ca up running, and changed direction again.
"WHERE ARE YOU GOING, KID?!" Muscular's voice bood through the jungle, distorted by the Nomu vocal cords but still carrying that sa deranged excitent. "THE FUN'S JUST STARTING!!"
Akira ducked behind a rock formation — a cluster of boulders at the base of a hillside. He pressed his back against the stone, his chest heaving, his remaining hand clutching his shoulder stump. Blue flas pulsed weakly across his body, healing at a slow pace.
Think. Think. What do I have left?
Red flas? Nearly depleted. He had maybe one or two more constructs in him before his offensive fire was completely spent. Solar Radiance would not do anything, and he did not have enough energy to pull another attack of that scale; he had already emptied his tank.
Blue flas were still functioning, but strained. The healing was keeping him alive, but every second of regeneration was burning through reserves that weren't being replenished. His body was running a deficit, spending more energy on repairs than it was generating.
He was on his last leg.
One arm. Cracked ribs. Depleted flas. Degraded enhancent.
Against a fully transford Nomu-hybrid that shrugged off his strongest attack and hadn't slowed down once.
He was in a dire situation.
CRASH!!
The boulder formation shattered. Muscular's fist ca through the rock like it was cardboard, fragnts of stone flying in every direction. Akira threw himself sideways, the fist passing close enough to his head that he felt the displacent of air ruffle what was left of his hair.
He fired a blast of red fla directly into Muscular's face. The fire washed over the black mbrane and did nothing. Muscular walked through it the way a person walks through a light breeze.
He grabbed Akira by the ankle.
The grip was crushing. Akira felt the bones in his foot compress, the tendons strain, the joint threaten to pop. Muscular lifted him off the ground with one hand, holding him upside down like a caught fish.
"You know what I love about you, kid?" Muscular said, his grotesque mouth splitting into that nightmare grin. "You don't quit. Even when you should. Even when anyone with half a brain would give up and play dead."
He swung Akira into a tree.
The impact broke the trunk. Akira's body folded around the wood, his spine bending in a way that sent burning pain shooting through his nervous system. Blue flas surged to the impact site, nding what they could.
Muscular pulled him back and swung him into the ground.
BOOM.
The earth cratered. Akira bounced as his vision went black for half a second, then returned — blurry, doubled, the world swimming for him.
Muscular lifted him again.
"Those two heroes.... the water couple, they were the sa," Muscular said, his tone jolly, like he was reminiscing about a pleasant mory. "The woman, especially. She kept getting up. Every ti I knocked her down, she got back up. Every single ti. It was honestly impressive."
He swung Akira into another tree. The trunk snapped. Akira felt sothing in his right shoulder dislocate. Blue flas rushed to the joint, but they were getting slower. The healing was falling behind.
"Her husband was weaker. He went down faster. But he kept crawling toward her, even after his legs stopped working. Crawling through the dirt with his arms, trying to reach her. It was pathetic. But also kind of beautiful, you know? In a sad way."
Muscular slamd Akira into the ground again. Face this ti. His nose broke. Blood mixed with ash in his mouth.
"And then there was you. The little kid who ca out of nowhere and actually hurt . Burned my eye out. Left that scar. And almost killed ." He touched the Nomu side of his face.... the side that had once been human, where Akira's fire had taken his eye two years ago. "You were thirteen. Thirteen! And you fought like a demon. I respected that."
He lifted Akira to eye level. The boy hung limp in his grip, his body a canvas of bruises and burns and blood. His remaining arm dangled. His eyes were half-closed, the crimson irises dim.
"But respect doesn't an I won't enjoy this."
He threw Akira.
Not into a tree. Not into the ground. Through the jungle. Akira's body flew through the air, clipping branches, bouncing off trunks, travelling fifty tres before hitting the hillside at the edge of the forr fire arena and sliding to the base in a trail of blood and broken vegetation.
He lay there.
Blue flas flickered across his body. Weaker now. The healing was barely functional was almost gone.
Muscular walked toward him. There was no rush, no urgency. He strolled through the devastated jungle.... Why rush, sothing he was enjoying every bit of?
After all, this was what he lived for. The hunt. The chase. The slow, inevitable collapse of sothing strong into sothing broken. It was art to him. Every hero he had ever killed had given him a few minutes of this feeling. Akira? He had to wait for years to get this one done.
Akira pushed himself up using his functional arm. He planted his palm in the dirt and pushed, his body screaming, his muscles failing, his bones grinding. He got to one knee. Then his feet, and he stood.
Muscular stopped in front of him and looked at the boy — the one-ard, bloody, ash-covered, fla-depleted boy who was sohow, impossibly, still on his feet.
"See?" Muscular said. "That's what I'm talking about. That right there. You just won't stay down."
Akira looked at him. His vision was fading at the edges, darkness creeping in from the periphery. His flas were gone — both red and blue, barely registering, their light dim enough that he looked more human than he had since the fight began.
He tried to form a blade. Red fla flickered in his palm, a spark, a whisper of fire... alas, that was it... the fla died. Nothing left.
He had nothing.
No flas, no weapons, no enhancent. One arm. A body held together by willpower and whatever healing his blue flas had managed before they gave out.
He was fifteen years old, standing in a ruined jungle, about to die.
But he didn't close his eyes. He didn't look away. He didn't beg.
He stared at Muscular with those dim crimson eyes and said nothing, because there was nothing left to say. He had made his oath. He had kept his promise for as long as his body would let him. And if this was where it ended, then it ended with him facing the monster, not running from it.
Muscular closed the distance.
One step. Two. Three.
He stood directly in front of Akira. Towering over him. Three tres of engineered nightmare, looking down at a boy who couldn't fight back.
He reached out with one massive hand and wrapped it around Akira's neck.
His hand encircled his throat completely, the tips touching at the back of his neck. The grip wasn't crushing.... not yet.
Muscular raised Akira off the ground until the boy's feet dangled, until they were eye to eye.
White eyes staring into crimson.
The monster stared into the boy's eyes.
"You put up a hell of a fight, kid," Muscular said. His voice was almost gentle. Almost sad. The tone of soone saying goodbye to a toy they had enjoyed playing with.
"But this is where it ends."
His grip tightened.
"Goodbye."
SNAP.
The sound was small. Nothing like the explosions and crashes and roars that had defined the fight.
Akira's body went limp.
His eyes went dark, and the life snapped out of them.
His remaining hand, which had been gripping Muscular's wrist in a final, futile attempt to break free, fell to his side.
His heart stopped.
The flas?
Gone.
Muscular held the body for a mont. Then he dropped it.
Akira hit the ground as a puppet with its strings cut. He lay in the ash, motionless, silent, his eyes open but seeing nothing.
Dead.
For the second ti in his life, Akira Shuzenji was dead.
Knock knock!!!
.
.
Who is it?
.
.
Hanger
.
.
Hanger who?
.
.
.
CLIFFHANGER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MUAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHA!!!! ggs guys... the story ends.....
Plus if you want to support , you can join my P@teron and read up to 15 advanced chapters and support you can alway join my P@treaon. (Just search up Joe_Mama p@treon on google.)
User Comments
0 comments from readers