Sighing in annoyance, I slowly float higher into the air to clear the dust surrounding me. My eyes scan the area warily.
I catch it—a flicker, the smallest hint of movement. I move immediately. Twin beams blast my former position as I close the distance between me and the Daxamite.
Both our clothes are in tatters. I've got a black eye and a busted lip. He has a broken nose and a nasty gash on his forehead. We've been at this for hours.
The Daxamite doesn't hesitate to meet me head-on. I can still feel the shockwaves from Nolan's nearby fight, but my focus is locked on not dying.
The longer we fought, the more comfortable he got with his power—testing his limits, adjusting his style. He doesn't fight like a mindless tank anymore. Now he fights like a strategic war hawk.
My fist slams into his raised forearm, creating an explosion of force. He retaliates with a kick aimed at my exposed ribs, but I disengage and inhale deeply before blowing out a frigid gust of air.
It's strange Viltrumites don't use their lungs more creatively. The frost spreads over his form, slowing him just slightly—just enough. I close the distance again.
He shatters the thin layer of ice with a flex of his muscles, but that moment of delay is all I need. I'm already in his face, my fist crashing into his cheek with a thunderous crack. Pain shoots through my hand, but I ignore it as I send him hurtling through the massive forest.
He crashes through tree after tree before finally catching himself midair. Roaring in fury, he blasts toward me.
I use that anger against him.
He swings—reckless. I tilt my head, dodging, and counter with a punch to the nose. There's a satisfying crunch as the already-mangled nose takes another hit. He grunts in pain.
I capitalize on the opening, grabbing his torn shirt and blasting us both toward the ground.
We plunge through the earth like divers into water, tunneling through miles of dirt and rock. I notice something—while exposed to this planet's yellow sun, his body regenerates at an annoyingly fast rate. That nose I just broke? It was healing—until I re-broke it.
After about thirty seconds of descent, we crash into a dark cave lit by glowing pools of lava. I hurl him into one.
The molten liquid splashes as his body submerges. Moments later, he erupts from it, glowing red-hot, and fires twin heat beams. They graze my ribs, and I hiss at the agony.
Clutching my side, I try to regroup—but he tackles me. We crash deeper into the planet's core, slamming into another massive magma pool.
Submerged, I grimace. The lava… it doesn't burn like I expected. It feels more like stepping into a too-hot jacuzzi. Uncomfortable at first, but not unbearable.
...Wait. What's a jacuzzi?
A punch sails toward me. I dodge, but his other hand grabs my neck—probably trying to suffocate me. Bad move. I don't need to breathe.
So I bite his hand. He yells and lets go.
I retaliate immediately, tackling him upward. We burst out of the magma, floating a few feet above the bubbling surface.
I spit out some lava—got in my mouth when I bit him. Disgusting.
By some miracle, we're not naked after that molten bath. Our lower clothing somehow survived.
My skin is slightly red, likely irritated, but it returns to normal instantly.
We lock eyes. His glow red. I tense.
He moves. I react. Our fists collide in an earth-shattering explosion of power. The cavern rumbles.
We pull back and clash again. My knuckles split open, but I shove the pain aside. Savage instinct drives me.
The entire cave collapses around us. Massive rocks rain down, but neither of us cares. At the same moment, we blast upward, tearing through layers of rock and dirt.
We finally breach the surface. Twin holes mark our exit points.
I raise my fists, ready for more—but then I hear it. The Daxamite's comm device somehow survived.
He speaks for the first time in hours—cold, disbelieving.
"Retreat? But we have them! Why run from a chance to reduce the Viltrumite numbers?"
I move instantly, trying to take advantage of his distraction—but he reacts with a powerful blast of air, launching me backward.
Then he shoots upward, faster than light, vanishing into the sky with a massive shockwave. The explosion disorients me more than it hurts.
I catch myself in the air, slowly descending. No point in chasing him.
I drop to the ground with a groan, finally feeling the exhaustion set in. My body aches all over.
A familiar whoosh catches my attention—Nolan floats down toward me. His clothes are as destroyed as mine.
His eyes show a flicker of surprise… then a smirk.
"You survived. And you're not even that injured. I was ready to come save your ass, Vergil. But you're… truly the most impressive young Viltrumite I've ever seen."
His tone is oddly warm. Not his usual businesslike voice.
I shake my head with a small smile. "I could've won. But it would've taken forever. He was annoyingly tough. He healed fast."
Nolan nods, his expression hardening again.
"We got lucky. I don't know what the Daxamites did to themselves during their years of isolation—but whatever it was, it's bad."
"What is it?" I ask.
"The two we fought? Just lieutenants. Years ago, they were easier to handle. Now? They've clearly gotten stronger. I think… they've purged their weakness to lead somehow."
"…That's not good, is it?" I ask dryly.
He gives me a look. "Obviously."
He pauses, then adds, "I was pretty dominant against the female. But she pushed me to go all-out. It was… honestly kind of alluring."
I do a spit-take.
"Woah! Calm down, Nolan. You do know that's the enemy, right?"
"What?" he says, confused.