The shattered glass dropped to the ground like ice, skidding across the polished steel panels as Von descended on one knee, wheezing but resolute. His fists were clenched, his will patent.
Somewhere in the room, upon a raised control platform, was the man himself—Dr. Rhane.
He was older than Von had expected, with slicked-back silver hair and a dark, flowing lab coat sheened ever-so-slightly with tech-impregnated fibers. His eyes glowed dimly—pale blue, piercing, and full of cruel interest.
Dr. Rhane did not blink. He only clapped, slow and sarcastic.
Dr. Rhane:
"How adorable. You managed to make it here. I was expecting Marco… not the worthless sidekick."
Von stood.
Von:
"I did not come here to talk."
Rhane raised an eyebrow, amused.
Dr. Rhane:
"Neither did I."
With a single move—a wave of his hand downward—the air vanished.
Von's lungs collapsed in a loud gasp. His knees buckled out from under him as he clasped his chest, gasping for breath that wasn't there. Panic began to rise.
He dropped to one knee again, this time not from exhaustion but strangling.
Rhane made a deliberate step down from the dais, fingers casually hidden in pockets of his coat, like a tourist on a museum tour.
Dr. Rhane (coldly):
"My awakened power is known as the Vacuum Domain. I can control the pressure of air around me—I can construct it. Or annihilate it, but it has a limited reach.
Von scratched at the ground, his vision clouding.
Dr. Rhane (snarling):
"Think you're the hero of the entire situation? A party trick, kid. I'm creating the next step in human evolution. You. You're a footnote."
He grinned.
Dr. Rhane: "You have no idea what's on the line. So just die already, you pathetic weakling."
Von's ears rang. Blackness seeped in from the edges of his field of view. His body grew heavier by the second.
Think. Think about training… Marco said that there's always a way… focus.
He looked down at a broken fragment of glass on the ground next to his foot—small and shiny.
Wind… breath… vacuum… No air outside…
Then he realized it.
*If he's manipulating the air that surrounds me… then I must have air from within.*
Von pushed his palm onto the ground—his gaze on a panel of fire suppression nearby. The canister within was sealed and held pressurized CO₂ gas in case of emergencies.
Von used his power—not maniacally, but precisely. He fought through the pressure, summoning all his strength.
Von (hoarsely):
"Pull…"
The canister ripped free of the wall, hurtling towards him.
Dr. Rhane's eyes grew wide, but in time.
Von released the canister to the floor—and with a final burst of effort, smashed it under his power.
Pop—SSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
A burst of gas exploded. Von shouted attention to the pressure releasing—pulling the CO₂ molecules toward him like a net. His lungs wailed as he sucked what little oxygen remained in the compound into his body.
He inhaled—in finally—the bite of air, pungent but genuine.
Still alive.
Von stood slowly, burning eyes.
Dr. Rhane snarled, swinging his arm again to shut the air off—but Von was faster.
He raised both arms, aiming at the metal floor beneath Rhane's feet, and shoved it upward, knocking Rhane off balance.
Before the doctor could recover his footing, Von smashed a lab table through the room like a battering ram. Rhane summoned a hasty pressure wall to dissipate it—but it crumpled, cracked, and shattered halfway through from the force of the table.
Von (growling):
"You're not the only one who trained."
Dr. Rhane stepped back, sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead.
Dr. Rhane:
"You insolent—!"
Von wouldn't let him get it out. He charged forward, using his gravity push to propel himself in mid-air—flying like a missile, knees tucked up, then extended straight out—
Von: "Fall!"
He crashed to the ground, cratering the metal floor as the gravity shock threw Rhane across the room.
The lab bucked. Lights strobed. Sparks rained from the ceiling.
Dr. Rhane coughed and staggered to his feet, blood on his lip. He looked at Von—no longer amused.
Dr. Rhane (low, furious):
"Fine. No more experiments. I'll end this myself."
But Von didn't flinch this time.
He hovered inches above the ground, surrounded by shards of metal and broken debris—all orbiting him like satellites, ready to strike.
Von (firmly):
"You're not in control anymore, you deranged psycho."