Jason had never been in a proper sword fight before. He'd used his blunt hunk of metal to slam creature after creature into a pulp, but he'd never really faced someone who was using a similar weapon. Much less someone who looked exactly like himself. The government had done their best to give him a semblance of training, but it wasn’t as if there was a plethora of ancient masters running around who knew how to wield giant swords. Only reason it was even possible for him to swing this oversized monstrosity was because of the points he'd put into Strength. And without proper guidance, there'd been no choice but to figure out swordfighting as he went. Which had been fine.

Until now.

Range and leverage, he thought to himself, are the keys to fighting an opponent with a melee weapon. No matter what weapon he'd researched, those two points were always at the top of the priority list. The distance your weapon could reach was its biggest limiting factor when it came to combat. So long as you could poke your opponent from out of their range, it didn’t matter if your attacks were less likely to hit – because you'd have more chances to keep trying, over and over again.

“We seemed pretty even in power back there, eh?” Jason taunted. A moment before, the two had momentarily locked blades, coming out of the exchange with similar wounds. Which was good – it let him know that whatever difference they had in strength wouldn't be enough to dictate the result of the fight. “Pray to whatever devil created you, because I’m sending you to meet them right now!”

The monster didn't reply. He studied Jason carefully, smirking, and both circled round the other with slow, methodical footwork as they waited for an opening. Humanity had become phenomenal at footwork over its millennia of dueling, and while Jason had little experience with wielding giant swords, he'd tried enough one-on-one combat sports to know when the right time to strike was. When someone takes a step and places their weight on their foot, Jason thought, watching Baker carefully, they can’t move for a moment.

It was a basic law that even monsters couldn't ignore. The moment a person steps forward and plants their right foot on the ground, they experience a form of ‘lag.’ It's impossible for them to move that foot away from the ground immediately; there needs to be a pause while they adjust where their weight is placed. Good footwork will minimize this ‘lag’ with small, quick steps, but it'll always be present. Human or monster, it made no difference. C’mon, Jason thought, give me the opening I want. Take just one more step. Just one more—THERE!

Baker crossed his feet once more, but it was too large of a step. Just large enough that his foot would be planted on the ground for slightly too long. Barely an opening at all.

“Dead on,” Jason muttered to himself in mid-air, as he exploded forward in a slicing motion. You can’t dodge if your feet can’t move, he thought, squeezing the grip of his sword and aiming for the creature’s head. It was an odd feeling, aiming for your own face, but he didn't hesitate.

“Hmm,” Baker said in a soft voice. "Good start."

There was no attempt to dodge. Steel met steel, hero met monster, and two blades collided in what appeared to be a fierce clash – at first. It was only too late when Jason realized that Baker had the upper hand. Though both blades collided at the same time, and both men used roughly the same amount of strength, the ways they'd positioned their blades were different.

Shit, Jason thought, seeing an eerie mirror of his own grin on the monster’s face. The upper half of his sword was clashing with the bottom of Baker’s – a disaster by any measure. The closer your point of blade contact is to your own wrist, the more power you can apply. In this situation, where both combatants had the exact same amount of strength, it was more than enough to settle the winner of their exchange. Baker’s blade pushed Jason’s to the side, allowing him to quickly thrust forward at the human’s shoulder, biting hard. Stumbling backward, Jason didn't regain his balance in time to defend when Baker swung his sword into the same spot as before, viciously knocking him to the ground.

67 Combined Slashing and Blunt Damage Received!

HP: 233 / 300

Can’t stay down. He’ll kill me. With only that vague thought to guide him, Jason rolled out of the way, awkwardly jumping to his feet and using his sword to keep his opponent at a distance.

Baker smiled at him. “Self-taught, disorganized...but altogether, good timing. Hmm. You'll do.”

“If I sound even half as annoying as you do when I talk, then holy shit...my friends deserve a medal for putting up with me.” Jason cracked his neck, as if that was what was bugging him instead of the growing, intense pain in his left shoulder. “Because I've been listening to you for about five minutes and there’s not a single thing in the world I want more than to smash your face open.”

“What about your friend?” Baker asked, its smile widening. “Or have you already accepted he’s dead?”

It was eerie, to hear those words in his own voice, from a creature that had stolen his appearance. Guess I understand why it chose this as my biggest fear. The thought came to him calmly, almost strangely so.

Jason drew a deep breath. This was no time to lose his cool. Had to focus. What had gone wrong last exchange?

He'd picked the right time to attack, that was certain, and they possessed roughly equal amounts of strength. The thing was, the monster felt as though it had a higher Level than Jason did, so it should have been stronger than him. Maybe he could tip the scales by allocating some unspent stat points – he'd saved five for a rainy day like this. Dexterity was the first notion that came to mind, but it wasn't speed that had dictated their clash. That fucker decided how to position his blade before I even touched him, Jason realized. Not only was Baker higher leveled, he appeared to simply be better at using his strong points.

“You are talented.” Baker’s voice was a ghostly mirror of Jason’s. “An abnormality among your species. Enough that you should know how outmatched you are. So”—the monster laughed and extended a hand—“embrace your hunger. Don't fight it.”

I have to beat this thing to save Rob. I have to—

His bracelet burned, so suddenly and intensely Jason couldn't stop himself from crying out in pain. When he was younger, he'd been bitten by a venomous snake, and even now he could remember how it felt. Like fire injected into his body, coursing through his arm and searing his nerves until the antidote finally took effect. This felt worse. It wasn’t fire – it was ice. A cold feeling that spread in his arm, numbing and hurting all at once, making him wish the damn thing would fall off so he wouldn’t have to deal with the sensation.

DESIRE POWER?

“Give it to me,” he whispered.

The cold spread through his body, no longer an invader, but a welcome guest. He felt dirty, as though he'd just drank unclean water, yet at the same time, he felt...awake. As if he was seeing the world for the first time. Colors were more vibrant, sounds reverberated differently in his ears, and a sense of unfiltered joy filled his heart, a thrill he had never felt before.

Baker smirked at him, and Jason smirked back.

Instinctively, as if he'd known how all along, Jason placed both hands on his sword grip instead of just one. With his strength, a single hand would have been enough even for his monstrous sword, but two hands allowed for smaller, more precise movements. Leverage was important, after all. His goal right now was to get the tip of his blade circling around his opponent's, so that when he thrust forward, the lower part of his blade would push against the higher part of Baker's.

Jason had no idea why this information was suddenly popping into his head, nor did he care. The bracelet burned, his heart raced, and he felt good. His sole desire was to eviscerate the creature in front of him – nothing else mattered. At that moment, he couldn’t even remember why he'd wanted to beat the Baker Street Horror so badly, and it hardly seemed important.

There was an opponent in front of him.

That was enough.

Once more, Baker took too large of a step, and Jason didn't let his chance slip by. He rushed forward, his blade dancing around his opponent’s, circling round it like a clock’s hands, pushing it out of the way as his lunge continued.

A direct hit.

Jason pierced his thrust into the creature’s stomach and he saw its – his – face contorting in pain as it retreated. If you can feel pain, I can kill you. The thought was invigorating. “What’s the matter, you fuck? Afraid?” Jason taunted, stepping forward. His own injuries didn’t even seem to bother him anymore. Odd, that. “Get ready – I’m not done with you yet!”

The creature grinned. Which should have been unnerving, yet Jason found himself grinning back, a manic smile blooming on his face. “Good,” he muttered, “amuse me more, you fucking monster.” The thrill inside of him was his fuel, and his racing heartbeat was his engine.

Through the fever pitch of emotions rising in his chest Jason made sure to consider his next move carefully. It wasn’t time for another blunt thrust. This one had to hurt. Jason lunged at his opponent, arms held straight as he positioned his massive blade forward, shifting his center of gravity to accelerate the movement. At that moment, his body became like an arrow. Baker’s eyes glowed yellow, and he bent his knees, bringing his sword underneath in a horizontal fashion to push Jason’s blade high, missing the monster’s head by a half inch.

Both blades were pointing away from their opponents now, Baker’s blade pointed high and behind his own head, while Jason’s blade was pointing straight up at the sky. Both men’s hands – still gripping at their swords – were pressing against each other now, nearly in a wrestling position, with Baker’s hands slightly beneath Jason’s. Shit. He has the upper hand here. Jason refused to let Baker press the advantage – its hands were lower, so if they separated from their struggle, Baker would be able to bring his blade down faster. But so long as they continued locked like this, neither man could swing at the other.

Definitely the same amount of strength, Jason thought, as the two struggled, taking circular steps across as they tried to wrestle the other without letting go of their blades. Can’t let him-

Baker pushed Jason at just the right moment, creating some distance between them. Jason’s wrist burned, and a primal instinct deep within told him not to let the creature build more distance. Again he launched himself like an arrow, sword extended in a straight line with both arms stretched forward. Baker shifted his sword in a horizontal position, almost as a shield, pointing sideways and to the ground. It was a stance that would let him parry any straight thrust. Then—! Jason shifted his grip upward, bringing both elbows high and to his left, and then swung his sword down, utilizing leverage in an attempt to knock the monster’s blade aside.

Clang.

Baker met the upper-half of Jason’s blade with his lower-half, deflecting it to the side, and allowing himself the chance to raise his elbows and bring his sword down in a cutting motion. It was all Jason could do to bring his sword up in a weak attempt at deflecting the blow, but here the difference in their expertise became apparent once more. Baker aimed not for Jason's blade, but for his wrist.

32 Bludgeoning Damage Received!

HP: 201 / 300

It was a slight blow, but it landed all the same. Jason screamed in pain as he ran backwards to safety, desperately creating distance between the monster and himself. My wrist – is it broken?

“Fucking hell,” he cursed, aloud and to no one in particular, “this bastard still has another gear to kick into? That wasn't his best?”

It was a good strategy, and Jason knew it. Be it boxing, tennis, or any sort of one-on-one contest – if you can afford not to go all out from the start, without losing in the process, then you absolutely should. Tiring out your opponent, allowing yourself to understand their fighting style better...it was a valid approach, so long as you were confident that your 70% could handle your opponent’s 100%.

Jason grit his teeth and choked down a growl. He wasn't used to being the 100 to his opponent's 70.

“That isn't enough to satisfy your soul, Hungriest Man,” Baker said, in a low, arrogant tone. “A starving man never stops at the first bite. Go on. Take another." Its voice distorted, hitching like a rusted record player. "Give in.”

Jason shook his head. “Shut up,” he roared, “don’t talk shit to me like you’ve won already. I’m going—I’m going to win!”

He had to win.

There was no other choice.

MORE POWER?

The cold, aching pain in his wrist flared up as a thrilling high coursed through his veins once again. It was a seductive sensation, inviting him to forego pain for pleasure. All his frustration, fears, and concerns started to leave him, a beautiful fury was taking their place, both kind and forgiving. He didn’t have to be perfect, the fury said. He just had to let it take over and guide him to victory. Everything he'd been worried about was going to go away.

All he needed to do in return was listen.

ACCEPT.

He wanted it. Oh, how he wanted it. If he had more power, he wouldn’t have to worry about anything. Everyone would be safe, he'd be able to handle any amount of monsters that came their way, he'd find a way to save Rob...and he wouldn’t even crack under the pressure of handling it all with a smile. I enjoy fighting more when this power courses through my veins, Jason thought, absently. I’m not scared as long as I have it. There’s no need to play around, and killing things just becomes...fun. He felt as though he were flying above the clouds, devoid of responsibilities or the usual weight on his shoulders, only the pleasure of battle remaining within him. His eyes sparkled, his grin widened-

And he punched himself in the face.

“Ah, son of a bitch,” Jason muttered, falling to his knees and breathing heavily, “almost—almost got me. That was rough.” He shook his head and laughed nervously, forcing himself to stand to his feet. “I’m not about to lose my mind to you. If you want to give me your powers, I'll take them...but this isn't a trade. It’s straight-up theft. I’m scamming you out of your powers, and I'm not giving anything back!”

His newfound strength was gone. Jason still felt the new strength that had come with putting his bracelet on, but not the one that had come when he asked for more power. It seemed like the less madness he allowed to settle in his soul, the less power he would obtain. A careful balancing act, Jason thought. But I've been balancing my mental state since the Portal first opened. This is nothing new.

The perfect soldier who works hard, but appears like he can do everything effortlessly. The perfect boyfriend who opens up emotionally, but is never too broken emotionally to the point of worrying his partner. The man who could lift the weight of the world on his shoulders, and come out of it stronger as if it were no more than an excellent workout.

What was any different about this?

“Fight it if you must,” Baker said, unimpressed. “You cannot escape the inevitable.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. “Seems like you don’t understand. I don’t care if my opponent is an undefeated team, a discount copy of me, or even a god from another dimension – I always win in the end.” He confidently stepped forward, the boast soothing his nerves. Not a good thing, as he knew he had to watch out lest he turn into an asshole, but for now, it felt oddly relaxing. “Fuck around if you want, just be ready to find out what happens when you challenge Jason fucking Miller to a fight!”

Once more, he struck forward like an arrow, hoping to repeat the same exchange as last time. Even if his Dexterity was lower than his opponent’s, that wouldn’t matter so long as he started the move sooner than they did. As soon as the two of them became locked in a clash of swords again, Jason would try kicking Baker in the stomach to gain the upper hand, before following up with his blade. That was the plan, anyhow.

Much like last time, Baker blocked Jason's thrust by going underneath and then standing up, his sideways-pointed blade pushing his opponent’s sword high and to the sky, while his own was pointed nearly behind his own head. Here, Jason tried to knee Baker in the stomach – only to be shocked by the sound of steel meeting the ground.

Baker had dropped his sword, bending his knees to sink lower. What’s going on? Jason thought, absently. From this angle, I can use the pommel of my sword to bash his head—why is he—

It was here that Jason felt his enemy’s arms wrap around his waist in a ferocious bear hug. “NO!” he cried out, instinctively understanding what was about to happen. Jason desperately started smashing Baker with the pommel of his sword, the angle not allowing him to bring the blade down. It was no use. Baker stood up, lifting Jason high above the ground, and then bringing him down in a mighty slam.

People don’t often think of slams as devastating moves in a sword fight. Nobody gets stabbed, blood doesn’t pour out of wounds, limbs aren’t cut off. But even someone who knows how to break a fall can't fully absorb the impact of being thrown against the ground at full speed. It is as if their whole body shuts down for a moment, an earthquake that only they can feel, with severe blunt trauma done to their back and head.

Jason did his best to brace for the fall, but it wasn't enough.

39 Bludgeoning Damage Received!

HP: 162 / 300

Where—what—

He dropped his sword to the side, losing track of where he was for a long moment. His vision never quite went blurry, but it was as if his brain had stopped being able to process what he was seeing. His body didn’t hurt too badly, but it was vibrating, numb, like he'd slept on all of his limbs at once. Jason attempted to cry out in pain, blinking confusedly when his lips refused to move.

I’m concussed, he realized, absently. Huh. Would more Vitality help with that? It was a calm thought, as if he wasn’t on the verge of dying, divorced from the cruel reality of his situation.

He was snapped back to reality by Baker lifting him up, seizing both of Jason's wrists and stopping him from moving. It was only vaguely that he realized his feet were no longer touching the ground. “Understand now?” the creature said. “Choose. Death or power? There is no third option. You cannot even understand what you desire, much less defeat it. Embrace it...or die.”

“Ah...so that’s what you were trying to say,” Jason muttered slowly, his head buzzing as the world only slightly came back into focus.

A sudden anger started to flare up inside him. This wasn't the icy, cold hatred from before; it was red, warm, and burned like a roaring flame. Its intensity focused him, prompting Jason to narrow his eyes at Baker – the creature for the first time. From a distance, it had looked just like him, a perfect copy from top to bottom. Upon closer inspection, though, he could almost see scales beneath its skin, as if it was wearing a mask of human skin over its face. Every crevice and curvature on his face revealed a hidden secret beneath, ones that were barely outside of the realm of human perception. The sight should have been disturbing, but for some reason, Jason didn’t care.

“You're saying I have to give in,” Jason muttered. “That I can’t beat you by myself.”

“Of course.”

He’s holding my arms, Jason thought. I can’t move. My sword is far away. My legs aren’t touching the ground. I can’t kick from this angle. Fury started to overtake his body, and this time he couldn’t fight it.

No. This was different. He didn’t want to fight it. In that hazy, half-awake state, Jason was only vaguely aware of what he was feeling. He vaguely understood that letting his emotions get the better of him, and that this had been a problem moments before, but that was all. Something was different. After a few moments, he realized why.

“I hate it,” Jason muttered, raising his head to look Baker in the eye. Ah. I get it now. “I hate when someone tells me I can’t do something.”

It wasn't the same feeling as before. He wasn't being controlled or coerced.

He was just really fucking pissed off.

Jason brought his head forward in a headbutt against the monster’s face. Baker reared its head back in surprise – more out of surprise than pain – but an opening was all Jason needed. Again and again he smashed his head against the creature, every blow a victory. Jason probably hurt himself more than Baker, feeling like he might lose consciousness with every blow, and in that moment he didn't give a single shit.

6 Bludgeoning Damage Received!

LET.

7 Bludgeoning Damage Received!

GO.

11 Bludgeoning Damage Received!

OF.

13 Bludgeoning Damage Received!

ME.

HP: 125 / 300

Baker was stronger, Baker could take more of a beating – and Baker still fell first. The monster was a simulacrum of a human being that may not have even possessed a will of its own. At the very least, it didn't have any strong feelings motivating it to stand his ground. On the other hand, Jason was willing to die to make it let him go.

Covered in the blood of his enemy and himself, his head dazed and aching, Jason finally freed himself and retreated toward his blade. Pain combined with his injuries nearly overtook him then, but he refused to let his consciousness fade, bracing himself with his newly retrieved sword and biting his hand to stay awake. It hurt, it burned, but he didn’t care. He had no intention of giving in to the voice inside his head, and neither did he have any intention of losing.

Which was easier said than done. Jason's body was shaking. Merely standing took everything he had, and every second he remained standing was a product of pure, stubborn defiance. Yet he didn't for a second consider losing. Jason had no idea how, but he knew he was going to win. “Come on, Masked Lunatic,” Jason thundered, “we’re not done yet. Not until I beat you.”

It—he?—chuckled slightly and walked forward, picking up their own sword and raising it above their head. “As you wish.”

Baker brought down its sword in a mighty swing. All too late, Jason realized that he couldn't dodge it. Couldn't even block it. Despite that, he refused to close his eyes. Jason Miller wasn't one to die quietly. “Bring it,” he hissed, grasping his sword and pulling it up in a futile motion.

Suddenly, a distant jetstream of wind blasted into the two, forcing Baker to halt its attack. “Lucky human,” it muttered, with a smile. “You did well.”

“FIRE!”

The order echoed loudly down the streets as Danse's helicopter took aim. A hail of bullets from the helicopter caused Baker to take a few steps backwards, vaguely using his sword as a shield to cover most of his body mass, and shrugging off the few bullets that hit their mark. Without missing a beat, he jumped up twenty goddamn feet to land on top of the destroyed remnants of a building.

“Get back here you son of a bitch!” Jason cried out, angrily stumbling forward. “We aren’t done yet!”

“We are not,” Baker agreed. “Next time we meet...you'll make the right choice.”

Anything else it had to say was interrupted by a missile hitting the ground right beside Baker. The resulting explosion was like standing near a miniature sun, burning up some of Jason’s clothes and giving him first-degree burns across various parts of his body. A normal human would've died right then and there.

65 Heat Damage Received!

HP: 60 / 300

Jason looked up in a daze, confused and in pain. He swept his eyes across the streets, finding nothing. The monster is gone. Escaped, most likely. It would be wishful thinking to assume that it'd been killed by the explosion.

“That’s right,” Jason spat out in a weak voice, “you better run, coward.”

His bracelet burned, and he ignored it.

The sound of coordinated footsteps accompanied by Danse's voice let him know that it was fine to relax. Jason let go from the sword grip and fell to the ground, breathing heavily and closing his eyes. “I’m gonna kill Baker in a bit just – I gotta take five,” he said, unsure if the men were even close enough to hear him. “Just-”

“He’s part of my unit!” Danse cried out. “You can’t take him away!”

“Orders are orders,” said another voice, one Jason didn't recognize. “I’m sorry. Resist, and you will be arrested.”

“But-”

“As stated, orders are orders. We serve our country first – don’t forget that.”

Ah. Fuck. Jason had a vague idea of what was about to go down. If he had more energy left, he would've struggled. Instead, he put both hands behind his head and let out a deep sigh before passing out. I’ll deal with this shit when I wake up.