Elsa stared at the impossible scene unfolding before her. One moment Drake was dying in her arms, the next he stood untouched while his wounded double smiled warmly.
Clone-Drake managed a weak thumbs-up despite the gaping wound in his chest. "Told you I'd keep you safe. I'm just a shadow clone. That guy—" he nodded toward his original, "—he's your real Drake. And he'll die before letting anyone hurt you."
The real Drake turned toward the rubble where Havoc lay buried. His voice carried quiet menace. "That's for Elsa. And for being a monster who destroys innocent lives."
Elsa's heart hammered against her ribs. *These techniques... that presence... who is he really?*
Drake flashed her a reassuring grin. "You okay over there?"
Clone-Drake smirked through his pain. "Aside from the cannon-sized hole? Never better."
PUFF!
The clone dissolved into swirling darkness.
Elsa clutched a torn dress tightly. *I don't understand him... but I trust him.*
"Stay back, Elsa." Drake stepped forward, an otherworldly breeze stirring around him. "I've got this."
"But I can—"
He raised his hand with quiet authority. "After I'm done with these two."
BOOM! CRACK!
The floor cracked like an earthquake as heavy footsteps approached. Through the settling dust came the axe-wielder, his massive weapon resting casually on his shoulder.
"Don't know what trick you pulled on Havoc," he growled, "but it won't work twice."
Drake rolled his shoulders, joints popping as he loosened up. "What's your name again?"
"Bronn. Bronn the Cleaver." His grin turned feral. "Remember it when you're bleeding out."
Drake's smirk was razor-sharp. "I'll engrave it on your headstone."
WHOOSH!
Bronn charged like a raging bull, his axe cutting through air with enough force to split stone.
Drake flowed aside like liquid shadow, the blade missing by inches.
CRACK!
His counter-punch caught Bronn's jaw, sending blood spraying.
"Hah!" Bronn licked his split lip, eyes wild with bloodlust. "Not bad, pretty boy!"
Drake dropped into a combat stance—legs coiled, fists ready. "That was just a love tap. Ready for the real thing?"
"YAAAAARGH!"
Bronn unleashed a storm of strikes. His axe became a blur of deadly intent.
Drake became pure motion. SLASH!—flipping, WHOOSH!— spinning, — THUMP!, dancing between the attacks. Shadow afterimages trailed his movements like dark poetry.
Bronn brought his axe down in an executioner's swing—
*!
Drake caught the blade barehanded. Metal shrieked against his palms.
"Surprise."
His grin turned predatory.
Bronn's face twisted in shock. "Impossible—!"
The two locked in a battle of pure strength—axe pressing down, Drake holding firm. The floor cracked beneath their feet.
"Give up!" Bronn snarled.
"Pass."
Drake backflipped explosively, his leg cutting upward in a shadow-wreathed crescent kick.
CRACK!
Bronn's head snapped back as he staggered, dazed.
Drake landed in a crouch, then bounced lightly on his feet—ready to strike or counter in an instant.
"Shadow Arts: Flowing Strike. I'm just getting started." His eyes gleamed with dangerous confidence.
"GRRAAAH!"
Bronn lunged forward just as Drake charged to meet him.
SHING!
Bronn twisted and caught Drake's kick with his axe handle.
"Got you!"
SLAM!
Drake crashed into the floor in an explosion of debris.
"Drake!" Elsa cried out.
Bronn raised his axe for a killing blow—
WHOOSH!
Drake rolled desperately across the room until—
CRASH!
He collided with a display of lingerie and disappeared beneath a shower of colorful fabric.
"Seriously?" Drake wheezed, spitting out lace. "The underwear rack? This is not how legends are made."
Bronn stalked forward. "No more games!"
BAM!
Drake caught the swing with both feet, used the momentum to flip upward, and drove a spinning heel kick into Bronn's temple.
THUD!
Bronn stumbled, vision blurring.
Drake handsprung back to his feet, brushing silk off his shoulders.
"Too close for—"
SLAM!
Bronn drove his axe into the floor with thunderous force. With one arm raised, Green mana began pulsing around his body like living vines.
"Behold my Echoform—GORTHOK, THE MOUNTAIN SPLITTER!"
ROOOAR!
Spectral emerald vines erupted around him, coiling like serpents of pure energy. His muscles swelled, green veins pulsing with raw power that made the air vibrate.
"Let's see you dance now!"
Drake's eyes narrowed. *Echoform. Time to get serious.*
"Bring it, tree hugger!"
Drake shot forward like lightning.
CLAP!
Bronn caught his punch mid-flight.
"What—"
CRACK!—brutal headbutt.
BAM!—devastating hook.
WHAM!—crushing jab.
THUD!—gut punch that drove the air from Drake's lungs.
"Hehehehe!" Bronn's laugh was pure malice.
CRACK!
The blunt end of his axe smashed into Drake's stomach with earth-shaking force.
DOOM!
Drake rocketed through a wall, tumbling into twisted metal and rubble.
"Damn..." He coughed blood onto the debris. "Why is he suddenly so strong? It's like fighting a different person."
SCREECH!
Bronn dragged his axe forward, leaving deep gouges and throwing sparks.
"That's Echoform power, boy. Havoc might be reckless, but he's not weak. You just caught him off-guard."
"GRRRR..."
From the wreckage, Havoc rose like a vengeful spirit—bloodied but burning with rage. His cannon crackled with building energy.
"Speak of the devil," Bronn chuckled.
"This brat..." Havoc's voice dripped venom. "Time to return the favor. With interest."
The two villains stood united—one wreathed in green energy with a mountain-splitting axe, the other with a sparking cannon that hummed with destruction. Their combined killing intent warped the air itself.
Elsa watched from the changing room doorway, heart racing. *He can't take them both. Not like this.*
She glanced down at her state of undress.
*Still in my underwear. Perfect timing, Elsa.*
She dashed back inside.
"Aw," Havoc mocked with poisonous sweetness. "The little princess is running. Smart girl."
Drake pushed himself up from the rubble—face bloodied, hair wild with dust, but his eyes still burned with defiance. His shadow aura flickered like a dying flame, then began to pulse stronger.
"Shut it." He wiped blood from his lips. "You'll regret everything when she steps back out here."
"Defending your girlfriend?" Havoc sneered. "How touching. I wonder what face she'll make when I blow your head off."
Bronn's laugh was like grinding stone. "Let's break him slowly. Make her watch every bone snap."
"Maybe I'll cut off something important," Havoc's cannon whirred to life, "just like she did to me. Right in front of her."
Their laughter echoed like demons celebrating in hell.
Drake stood firm despite his injuries. Blood on his lips. Chest heaving. But his fingers twitched with barely contained power.
"I don't know how this keeps getting worse," he muttered as shadow mana began surging around him like living darkness.
"But I'm still standing."
The villains advanced, weapons crackling with lethal energy.
Drake sank into his combat stance. Shadow power roared to life, wreathing him in tendrils of pure darkness. His battered face split into a dangerous grin—not of fear, but of a predator finally pushed to his limits.
"Come on then..."
His eyes blazed with dark fire that promised annihilation.
"Let's dance
—TO BE CONTINUED—