"No names then, Joker? This is where you draw your last breath!" Justin roared a path of flames, marking his acceleration as he instantly appeared before Desmond. In a quick motion, he grabbed Desmond by the head and flipped him upside down.
Though the movement was brief, Desmond quickly registered his airborne state. His right hand moved in reaction, pulling on an unseen force, and he vanished, teleporting to the location where he'd earlier thrown his last dagger. He almost fell from the momentum of his previous action, but immediately regained his composure. Still, he wasn't fast enough to avoid the flames completely; as they had given him a sizzling gift on the side of his head as he made his escape, the smell of burning hair wafted through the air.
"Ouch—ouch! The fuck, man?! Do you know how expensive this hair was?!" Desmond barked, frantically patting out the fire, more upset at the loss of his hair than worried about his impending demise.
Wait… there was a delay. His eyes narrowed. I activated my ability, but didn't teleport instantly. Was it the heat? And he broke it—that dagger was made of the strongest metal in the world… he thought to himself. His confusion only deepened as more questions piled up. He knew Justin was strong from the reports at HQ, but this level of raw power and speed? Was never reported. This was on a different level than the information they had given him; he felt his heart skip a beat, but it wasn't in fear; this was excitement. He was elated by the situation he now faced.
The air around him grew thinner as the seconds counted by, shimmering with heat, making it hard to breathe; his vision fogged up as waves of hot fumes violently smashed into his face, flooding into his lungs even as he tried desperately not to breathe in the fumes. His chances of winning were already slim—and growing slimmer but he couldn't hide the excitement on his face, his heart hadn't raced like this in a very long time.
Since that day, he thought his mind drifting back to a time past.
Vooosh!
A roar of flame cut through the space between them. Desmond couldn't even see clearly, the heat distorting the air. In panic, he hurled his remaining dagger in a random direction, buying time he didn't have. He teleported to the dagger's new location, though he couldn't see due to the fog, he could feel the space around the dagger, repeating the action multiple times. His mind racing with thrill as he desperately searched for an opening, unable to even track his opponent, who was obscured by the fog and moving with abnormal speed around him, fast enough not to be sensed by his dagger.
The boss will definitely kill me if I use that here, but I'll be dead anyway if I don't! What kind of fucking mission is this?! he cursed inwardly, furious at his luck.
"Is your spirit linked to that blade?" Justin's voice rang out, calm and cold through the fog from behind Desmond, and he felt a presence faintly brush past his back. He instantly stopped his frantic teleportation, taking a defensive pose.
Desmond didn't respond, but his hesitation spoke volumes. His sudden defensive posture confirmed Justin's thought, and Desmond's narrowed eyes gave away even more. Justin had been standing before him the entire time, his flames flickering off and on.
"I thought so," Justin said.
"You haven't replaced the first one I destroyed. That means part of your spirit was tied to it and is currently lost. You've only got two splits in you, don't you?" he added.
Desmond remained silent, tense. The fog limited his vision to barely a few feet, and he had no idea where Justin was, yet his voice seemed to echo all around him. Was it an illusion? He had no way of confirming, but this man had already figured him out in less time than it took Desmond to figure out himself…
"You teleport in the direction you throw them," Justin continued, "but there's a delay—likely three seconds. Or maybe it's instant, but my flames disrupt your connection somehow." He narrowed his eyes as he spoke, taking a short pause.
"You're an incomplete medium turned assassin. You have promise… so why waste it on this path, Joker?" he continued, looking down at Desmond.
Desmond was tall, a six-foot-two, fit male, but Justin hulked over him at seven feet, one inch. An equally massive frame accompanied his massive height, dwarfing Desmond's already impressive build.
"Who the fuck did you just call incomplete, you washed-up old fucker?!" Desmond snarled, pointing his dagger at nothing, baring his fangs.
Justin's voice softened, almost mournful.
"It's a shame. Such talent, wasted. Soon to be snuffed out," he said. He drew in a deep breath, and his flames reignited, hotter than ever.
Damn it... Sorry, boss, Desmond thought grimly, gripping his dagger even tighter. But I've got to use that here.
With a shout, he flung his dagger straight at Justin and vanished—teleporting dagger in hand.
"Like hell talent will be lost!!" he screamed, his body morphing mid-air. His clothes ripped apart as he grew in size, scales spread over his arms and legs, his face elongating into a demonic snout, wings tearing from his back. His flesh hardened as his screams slowly morphed into grunts, the pain visible even to Justin.
"Try stopping me now, you crazy old man!!" he roared, his transformation finally complete. Immediately, he launched a punch with all the strength he could muster from his new, improved body at Justin, his teleportation momentum adding to the blow.
Justin's eyes widened. He could dodge, but he didn't. Deciding to take the blow head-on to measure Desmond's new abilities, he braced for impact with a grin, the flames on his hands increasing in intensity.
BOOM!!
The punch landed like thunder, kicking up a storm of dust and debris. A large section of the mansion shattered behind them from the sheer force.
BOOM!!
But Desmond was the one sent flying, crashing into a wall and bursting through it into the street beyond.
"What?! Even with this, I can't overpower him?!" Desmond gasped. His new form gave him monstrous strength and an accelerated spiritual regeneration, but Justin still had the upper hand.
His instincts saved him from the next barrage. Dodging swiftly, he created distance, and with a flick of his wrist—
"Subspace!"
A rift opened, and a new dagger landed in his palm. His demonic form allowed him to infuse this one with regenerated spirit, closing the weakness Justin had identified.
Now with two viable daggers, Desmond adjusted his stance. Justin, watching closely, adapted on the fly and surged in again—only to be blindsided by a punch he couldn't even see.
Crash!!
The hit sent Justin flying backwards, skidding across debris. For a moment, his flames went out.
I didn't even see it… He didn't throw the dagger, didn't move his body. But the impact was real. What changed...? Justin thought, climbing out of the rubble.
"Well, that was a surprise," he muttered, breathing hard. "Made me burn through my oxygen reserves. You're better than I thought…"
He paused.
"Why don't we—"
Woosh!
A blur of motion shot past him. Justin dodged just in time.
"Well, that's not polite. I wasn't done talking," he said, taking a deep breath. His flames roared back to life.
Desmond's mind spun. How did he see me? Even with this speed?
He needed to go faster—he had no choice.
Crouching low, he widened his stance, arms tensed. He had caught Justin off guard once, but he wouldn't get lucky again. Not unless he ended this now, before Justin figured out his full transformation and shut it down.
They circled, watching… then clashed again. Fists and flame, dagger and fire.
Justin showed his battle-tested experience, parrying Desmond's blinding strikes. Then, with a feint and counter, he landed a clean blow, sending Desmond tumbling back.
Justin staggered, his breathing ragged. The fight had lasted over thirty minutes, and the toll was mounting. His vision blurred. Years of smoking were catching up.
But Desmond wasn't faring any better. His demonification was reaching its threshold. The balance between regeneration and consumption was shifting. Soon, his spirit would decay faster than it could recover. If that happened… he would lose himself completely and become a true demon.
The only thing keeping him functional was the spiritual boost his transformation granted—and that, too, was failing.
They locked eyes. No words exchanged, but both understood: this had to end—now.
The mansion around them continued to crumble.
Justin bought time.
Desmond lost it.
With a crazed grin twisting his face, Desmond hurled a dagger and charged, ready to end it all.