Behind! As he shifted his body to the side, Slava narrowly evaded a missile that he soon kicked toward an unsuspecting Anyxa. Using the chaos that ensued, he lunged toward Aria, jumping through the red mist surrounding her. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her movement. Left! He spun to the right, evading a punch that was coming straight for his jaw. Using the momentum, he hit her with his elbow. When his vision cleared up, he was met with a shaking Blood Queen, her arms still up in a defensive position.

“You’ve improved again!” Shit, this was annoying. There was a delay, between what he perceived and when they actually happened. It was like he was seeing the afterimage… That’s it! Seeing! Why couldn’t he see? Nothing was faster than light, the faster he got, the dimmer the world became. His eyes saw, but he couldn’t process the information, there was a blockage, and his brain was masking it. What if…

“Why are you just standing there? This isn’t how I thought you.” Hearing her words, he snapped back to reality, but it was too late. Weapons homing in behind him, Blackcoda closing off his last path of escape, and Aria now inches away from his face. The next few moments happened in an instant. He was punched so hard he felt his jaw crack through his suit. The strike launched him up in time for him to get hit by a condensed ray of light that projected him right into Anyxa's grasp.

As his eyes flashed with realization, a smile crept onto his face. When his body hit the ground, his suit instantly retreated from his face, moving to reinforce his arms, chains coiling around them. The sight of them didn’t even make Anyxa flinch as her now massive clawed hands came bearing down on him. She was indeed different. He couldn’t reach her anymore, whether it be physically or mentally. She’d improved at using the suit, but some things never changed.

She slashed him incessantly creating shockwaves that spread around them, dark mist radiating from her body. Her clawed hands grew bigger as his body shrunk. At some point, her skull-like mask even cracked from the pressure she was under, revealing her deathly pale skin covered in black pulsing veins and a black eye filled with… resentment? No, it was desperation. She was so focussed on pinning him down that she didn't notice her partner screaming at her or his eyes dashing around at unimaginable speeds following every one of her movements.

He’d felt the strain for a while now, and the ringing in his head was now almost omnipresent. Compared to that, the sizzling he currently felt on his face from Anyxa’s corrupting aura was almost unnoticeable. They’d been rotating for a while now, leaving him no time to rest. It was frustrating he still wasn’t good enough, he gritted his teeth, but now things would be different. At this thought, his eyes’ glow suddenly brightened, quickly followed by a shockwave that blew their surroundings away. Blackcoda watched in horror at her massive arm now firmly in her opponent’s grasp.

If he focussed his domain into his eyes, he could meddle with their acceleration. With a fast enough target, he could force them to focus incredibly fast. In essence, training his brain to follow their movements. That was in theory, but such a situation would be incredibly difficult to pull off in his current predicament, or so he thought right before Anyxa pounced on him.

“You might’ve improved a bit, but you’re still dumb as a log.” Her fear-stricken gaze turned into one of anger as her body shifted, and her second arm came bearing down on him. Smiling, he used the change in her center of balance to pull her toward him. Then, twisting his body, he made her fall, climbing on top of her. “I guess the tables have turned,” he smiled, his suit slowly recovering his face. “Or should I say; the hunter becomes the hunted?”

He held her by the neck, his chains spreading from his hand to restrain her. Quickly, his eyes moved to look at the Blood Queen who didn’t seem to dare to move. Shifting his eyes back to his prey, he brought his finger to her cracked, skull-like mask. As it got closer, its tip extended, seeping into the crack. She began to scream in horror, when Slava abruptly stopped, murmuring to himself; “light!” Instantly severing the link he made with Anyxa, he tried jumping away, but before he could fully stand up, he witnessed something bright coming toward him. Shit! He barely got the time to put his arms up before the ray of light hit him, launching him across the desolate street.

Slowly getting back to his feet, Slava glared up. There, slowly descending to the ground, surrounded by a series of glowing pillars, lowering his fuming metallic arm, was a golden exosuit, bringing light to his surroundings like a messiah showing the path to salvation. Behind him, Aria was helping Anyxa recover. Raizing his arm, he looked at his it. It felt… weird. Matter of fact, his whole body felt odd, humid. Looking to the side, he saw… Oh, no wonder he felt humid, his adrenaline levels were soaring, and he was covered in blood and wounds, his suit barely keeping him from falling over. Closing his eyes, his body shook and his injuries quickly healed. The strain was so strong, he didn’t even feel his body failing. He didn’t understand how it wasn’t falling apart. Where was the limit, the cracks… Was he not trying hard enough? It almost made him mad.

“This isn’t the time for you to have a laugh.” And another one. He dodged a flurry of rays aiming toward him. It was easier to evade them now that he knew their source. But as he was getting closer and adapting to the patterns, another variable showed up. A completely healed Anyxa closed in on him and when he tried evading her kick, one of the rays ended up piercing through his liver.

A purposeful change in his attack patterns, they had trained for this. When he realized how much he had been outwitted, Slava’s anger intensified. This wasn’t like last time, they'd methodically planned this. He'd methodically planned this… Black Hydra.

His suit moved to cover the wound as his body swiftly recovered, creating one more scar on his tattered body. He could feel the familiar change felt after one of these. He was getting older. Stimulating his cells to such an extent was reducing his lifespan. Usually, he could deal with this easily, but now… he grabbed onto Anyxa's extended claws that were lunging toward him, his feet digging into the ground. He didn't have that leisure.

If this went on, he would literally physically exhaust himself to death. Compared to him, his opponents didn't have to rely on their personal strength. They would go on until all of their resources were exhausted. No matter how many awakened died in their cells. He could already imagine what was going on at this very moment. Hundreds of workers fumbling over their equipment in an immense hall filled with vats, watching as their subjects began to strain themselves beyond their strength, their bodies cracking and shattering… one by… one.

It made him sick. To know that he was being restrained by people who used such methods. Was he so weak? Was he so helpless? And as he fought, he got injured again and again, he healed again and again. He pushed himself further and further, fuelled by his anger, his headache getting to the point where he felt like his mind was splitting open.

He couldn't recognize his surroundings, simply following his instincts, following the movements. His mind slowly drifted away, his thoughts getting jumbled, his individuality, his sense of self slowly disappearing. But strangely enough, as it did, his domain expanded and his strength grew.

His lighthearted laughs and sarcastic remarks quickly made way for an eerie silence that made his opponents stand on edge, but despite that, they persisted in their assault and when cracks finally began appearing on his skin, they doubled their efforts.

Slava was becoming a monster. A monster of pure desire, a desire to survive, to become more than what he was, a desire to expand his domain, influence, and knowledge. The eeriness his opponents felt wasn't simply psychological. His domain was digging its way into the artificial ones hiding in their suits, sapping at their strength. He was finally reaching his limits. Or was he already past them? Was he really still Slava?

Meanwhile, inside his head, he was struggling to keep his sense of self. As he resisted, an illusionary figure presented itself before him. On it, he could see, depicted, two seemingly partially shattered sphere-like objects circling each other. He was mesmerized by their movement and almost lost himself in their dance. At some point, his trance was broken by the figure’s movement, the image slowly shifted as if it was turning around and that’s when he reflexively looked up, away from the spheres. That's when he caught a glimpse of its pupil-less white eyes. He looked into them, he felt his mind drifting further and further away when a familiar darkened voice reached out to him. Stopping him from imprinting a clear image of it into his head.

“Oh no you don’t,” he heard her say as his figure was enshrouded in darkness. Crow…? “It isn’t time yet,” she said, her voice echoing in his head. “You haven’t even ascended yet. You have to show me more… chaos. I can’t let them find out about you yet.” The last thing he saw was a chaotic figure extending her arm, standing before his apocalyptic surroundings, staring him down with her golden eye, a mouthless smile plastered on her face. When her finger finally reached his forehead, he felt his eyes close and everything turned black.