She vanished.
No warning. No build-up. Just gone.
But this time?
I was ready.
Steel screamed as her katana came down, the blade wrapped in condensed spiritual energy so sharp it split pressure itself. I ducked, rolled, came up with my own sword already formed in my hand — not mana, not Qi, just a concept shaped like a blade.
We clashed.
BOOM.
The shockwave flattened the front rows of spectators. Barriers flared so hard they cracked, then reforged themselves in panic. Rei moved faster than the human eye, faster than sound, faster than most people could even think.
To them, it looked like I was barely surviving.
To me?
I was holding the universe together with duct tape.
I dodged left.
Parried right.
Stepped back as her blade carved the air and turned it into weaponized pressure.
Every strike she made carried Sword Art — pure spiritual energy converted seamlessly into offense and defense. No wasted motion. No hesitation. Flawless form.
She was a monster.
And she knew it.
"You're holding back," she said coldly mid-combat, blades colliding inches from my face. "Are you mocking me?"
I gritted my teeth.
"Mocking you?!" I snapped internally. "Bitch, if I go on offense this arena won't EXIST."
She didn't hear my thoughts.
She just attacked harder.
A barrage.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of strikes in a breath. Her sword multiplied in afterimages, every cut layered with killing intent refined to perfection.
One of them landed.
A scratch.
On my arm.
I stared at it for half a second.
"…Damn it."
Blood beaded. The crowd lost their minds.
"SHE ACTUALLY HURT HER!" someone screamed.
"REI ACTUALLY DAMAGED LANE WHITE!"
Rei stepped back, eyes sharp, posture relaxed — like a predator circling wounded prey.
"You bleed," she said. "Good."
She walked toward me slowly, katana humming.
"Now stop pretending."
That was it.
I exhaled.
Deep. Controlled. Final.
"Alright," I said quietly. "You want me to attack?"
The air changed.
The arena's barriers screamed warnings. Ancient runes lit up like they were about to resign. Somewhere deep under the academy, something old stirred and immediately regretted it.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
I dashed.
To everyone watching?
I disappeared.
Not moved. Not teleported.
Gone.
To me?
I simply outran time.
Space stretched behind me like torn fabric. Motion froze. Thought lagged. Cause and effect tripped over themselves trying to keep up.
I was already in front of her.
Sword raised.
Rei's eyes widened — the first real emotion she'd shown.
She activated Sword Art instantly, spiritual energy exploding outward to counter.
Too late.
I swung.
Not hard.
Not fast.
Just… enough.
The slash left my blade as a thin, invisible air cut.
Then the world broke.
The arena split in half.
The school field behind it vanished.
A mountain in the distance was cleanly severed like butter.
The shockwave traveled across the ocean, parting water, circling the planet once before dissipating into space.
Satellites went blind.
Seismic alarms screamed.
The barriers shattered—then desperately reassembled themselves, barely holding.
Silence.
I blinked.
"…Oh. Right."
Rei was standing there.
Still.
Her katana?
Snapped clean in two.
Her Sword Art?
Gone. Not dispersed — invalidated.
She stared at me, chest rising and falling, eyes shaking.
"…That," she whispered, "was not Sword Art."
"No," I admitted. "It wasn't."
I looked at the devastation.
"…And I only used about 0.0000000000001%."
The instructor screamed, "MATCH OVER! MATCH OVER! STOP—STOP—!"
I immediately stepped back, sheathed my blade, and raised my hands.
"Yup. That's a stop. Definitely a stop."
The arena was wrecked.
Students were on the ground. Some crying. Some praying. Some rethinking their entire life path.
Rei slowly dropped to one knee.
Not in defeat.
In acknowledgment.
"…You weren't holding back," she said hoarsely.
I scratched my cheek. "No. I was holding everything."
She looked up at me.
And for the first time—
She smiled.
A small one.
Terrifying.
"…Fight me again someday," she said. "When you're serious."
I felt a chill.
"…Let's not," I replied immediately.
Around us, teachers were panicking, healers were running, and somewhere far above—
The Student Council felt it.
Every single one of them.
And one thought echoed through the academy:
Lane White is not a calamity.
She's a extinction event.