Smoke still choked the battlefield. The remains of the bulky man and dreadlocked woman lay unconscious and restrained—Quirkless now, their abilities absorbed by Kael in the blur of combat. The smokescreen lingered, swirling with ash and embers, casting the city block into a grayscale world of chaos.
Kael stood still at the epicenter, his chest heaving, muscles twitching from adrenaline and exertion. His cloak fluttered behind him, tattered from battle, his mask slightly cracked. But his eyes—focused, resolute—locked onto the final threat: Ryken.
Across the fractured pavement stood the Reflector, his shirt torn, glimmering shield flickering faintly around his form. He looked calm, calculating—waiting for Kael to make the next move. Neither spoke. They didn't need to. Words were useless now.
In an instant, they moved.
Kael blitzed forward, dust exploding beneath his feet. Ryken pivoted, his Reflector field flaring to life just as Kael lashed out. Their first exchange was blistering—Kael's punch deflected, Ryken's counter intercepted mid-air by a DarkBind tendril that curved in from the side. Sparks burst between them. The air cracked with pressure.
Kael circled wide, testing. He struck from different angles—feints followed by whip-like lashes from DarkBind. Each time, Ryken's shimmering field pulsed, repelling force cleanly. The Reflector Quirk didn't simply bounce things back—it bent them, redirected kinetic force like a mirrored wave.
Kael leapt up, flipping over Ryken and launching a twisting kick. Reflector flashed again, and Kael was hurled mid-spin into a nearby car. Metal buckled under his body. He rolled through the impact and rose, spitting blood, a grin forming beneath his mask.
So, not just direct attacks. Even motion carried weight with Reflector.
Kael vanished into the lingering smoke.
Ryken narrowed his eyes. "Still hiding?"
Kael didn't answer. Instead, Ryken flinched—his shield deflecting a chunk of asphalt launched from the fog. Another followed. Then two more. Then a tendril. Ryken spun, blocking with efficiency, but the barrage never stopped. Kael wasn't attacking to win. He was attacking to overwhelm.
And then—impact.
Kael appeared mid-sprint, shoulder slamming into Ryken from behind. The Reflector field hadn't flared.
Kael had used the bulky man's Quirk—Kinetic Forge.
His body had absorbed momentum through the sprint and transferred it at the moment of contact, bypassing typical force trajectories Reflector relied on to react. Ryken was flung backward through a wall.
The rubble settled.
Kael surged forward again, using Flashstep sparingly now—sharp bursts to reposition, not to chase. He planted himself in Ryken's blind spot and used DarkBind to whip a length of rubble at an arc over the smoke. As Ryken emerged, the debris came down like a meteor. Reflector activated too late—Kael had already dashed in, ducked low, and drove a punch into Ryken's ribs.
A flicker of golden light pulsed over Kael's torso—Healing Aura knitting together a cracked rib from Ryken's earlier counter. He stepped back, then struck again from another angle.
Ryken grunted, this time wincing. His body was fast—but not perfect. He was beginning to slip.
Kael knew what he had to do.
He used Smokescreen not to blind Ryken further—it was already thick—but to distort perception. The smoke warped shadows, doubled silhouettes, twisted depth.
Kael launched a fake projection with a tossed jacket fragment, then struck from above. Ryken reacted, Reflector pulsing outward—but Kael anticipated it.
He curved his momentum with Kinetic Forge again, rebounding from a fire hydrant and landing behind Ryken as the shield misfired toward the decoy.
One strike to the back of Ryken's neck.
A second—knee to spine.
Ryken retaliated with a spinning elbow, but Kael weaved, ducked low, and swept his legs with a DarkBind tendril. Ryken caught himself, but Kael was already airborne, diving downward.
A punch glowed blue with stored force.
Kinetic Forge: Release.
He hit Ryken's shield, and for the first time—it cracked.
Ryken hit the pavement hard, sliding across broken glass and metal. Blood ran down his chin. "For a Quirk you've just taken, you sure do know how to us it," he muttered.
Kael didn't reply. His silence was deliberate. Every second counted. He pushed forward again, not giving Ryken room to breathe.
Ryken forced himself up, but the edge was gone. His Reflector was flickering now—not gone, but slower. Kael could feel the rhythm.
And Kael was a predator of rhythm.
He slowed. Walked instead of sprinting. His DarkBind tendrils curled and twitched around him like a cloak of living shadows, slithering through smoke. Behind him, Healing Aura flickered faintly, duller now, but still functional.
Kael raised one hand, palm open.
Ryken charged this time, blinded with pure rage. It was a fatal mistake.
Kael took a step aside—then two—and let Ryken fall into a trap. A hidden tether of DarkBind snapped taut, tripping him, just as a rising piece of rebar flung upward from Kinetic Forges prowess.
Kael spun, pivoted, and with a brutal uppercut—sent Ryken into the air.
Then came the final act.
Kael didn't even use Flashstep.
He walked into Ryken's descent.
Caught him mid-air with a short-range tendril, pulled him into Kaels right palm and pressed his hand to his face—contact.
And with that, Ryken's Reflector fizzled out. Kael could feel the Quirk transfer. The last piece falling into place.
Kael threw Ryken onto the ground with a grunt, dazed and spent.
Kael stood over him, battered but unbowed. The battle was done.
He won.
But then—a blur of capes and uniforms lined the far rooftops.
Mount Lady.
Edgeshot.
Ryukyu.
Manual.
Best Jeanist.
They all stared down from their vantage points, watching, but not interfering. There was no need.
Kael—Equinox—had done what no one else could.
And now, as silence fell over the battlefield, and the smoke finally began to clear, Kael turned his eyes toward the rising sun.
The true fight—for the future—was only beginning.
…