The gym was now a cathedral of black ice. The bleachers had stretched into pillars of dark crystal, and the floor had given way to a shimmering surface so smooth it looked liquid. At the center of this devastated space, the temperature was so low that the air itself seemed to shatter into tiny frost crystals.
But what struck Solon wasn't the scenery. It was the shape waiting for him.
The Major Cenotaph was no longer an abstract pyramid or a geometric mass. It had imitated its prey. Standing at the center of the court, a humanoid silhouette, tall and slender, stood motionless. Its body was made of deep black volcanic glass, faceless except for a silver slit where eyes should have been.
"It scanned us," Kael whispered, staying back. "It understood that to break a human, it needs a structure that moves like a human. It's a combat mirror."
Solon didn't answer. He pulled off his torn jacket, revealing arms where silver Prana pulsed violently. He had no weapons, no spells. But he had years of discipline. Before his intellectual arrogance took over, Solon had spent his childhood in dojos, seeking in martial arts a mathematical perfection that books didn't offer.
He settled into a stance. A hybrid mix: the mobile legs and high guard of boxing, combined with the stability and sharp strikes of karate.
"Remember, Solon," Kael called out. "Don't try to hit the glass. Hit the Prana holding it together."
The Cenotaph moved. It was an explosion of speed.
The creature lunged at him with a surgically precise left jab. Solon slipped the punch with a bob and weave, feeling the icy wind of the strike graze his temple. He countered instantly with a gyaku-tsuki (reverse punch) aimed at the thing's plexus.
The impact sounded like metal on rock. Solon felt a shockwave travel up his arm, but he didn't back down. At the moment of contact, he let his raw Prana overflow from his knuckles. A silver discharge surged into the monster's chest, cracking the ebony surface.
The monster reacted with a series of rapid roundhouse kicks, perfectly imitating karate style. Solon blocked the first two with his forearms, each clash sending shards of frost into the air, then he dove inside the creature's guard.
He connected with a short hook to the glass jaw, followed by a devastating knee strike to the ribs.
"Pressure Axiom!" Solon roared.
It wasn't a spell, but a physical application of his energy. With every hit, he injected Prana into the micro-cracks of the glass. The creature began to stagger, its jet-black body emitting hisses of cold steam.
But the Cenotaph learned. In the middle of the exchange, it changed its rhythm. It caught Solon's wrist with a grip of iron and slammed its elbow toward the teenager's face. Solon only had time to raise his shoulder to take the blow. The crack of his bone was audible, but the pain was instantly muffled by the numbing cold of the Prana.
Solon spun, using the momentum to deliver an ushiro-geri (back kick) that sent the monster flying across the gym.
"It's adapting to your boxing!" Kael shouted. "Break the rhythm! Don't be predictable!"
Solon gasped, silver sweat beading on his forehead. He saw the red core pulsing through the monster's cracked chest. It was a macabre dance between flesh turned to glass and glass turned to flesh.
"You want my humanity?" Solon growled, lunging forward again. "Come find it in my fists!"