"What the hell, Dave?!"
Vincent's voice was raw with disbelief. His bar—now a warzone—was littered with the bodies of special forces operatives, their armor cracked, weapons bent like toy scraps. And standing amid the carnage, unscathed, was Dave McCullough.
His metallic skin gleamed under the flickering neon, emerald veins pulsing like live wires.
Vincent swallowed hard. "Since when do you—"
"Vincent." Dave's voice was a gravel grind, eyes locked on the distant harbor. "Hold things down here."
Before Vincent could protest, Dave leapt—not a jump, but a launch, the pavement cratering under the force.
The Harbor: A Battlefield
Dave landed amid the ruins of Harrow Point's docks, scanning the devastation—shattered concrete, molten steel, buildings reduced to skeletal frames. His gut twisted.
Then he saw them.
Leor—bloodied, barely standing, one hand clutching a leg that refused to hold his weight.
And him.
The Asian man turned, and Dave's blood turned to ice.
"Han?" The name tasted like ash.
Han's lips curled into a mockery of a smile. "Oaf. You look even uglier than I remembered." He gestured at Dave's cybernetic veins. "New look? Not helping."
Dave's fists clenched. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from us?"
Han barked a laugh, sharp and unhinged. "'Us'? There is no us." He pointed at Leor, his grin widening. "I'm here for him. You?" A shrug. "You can choke on your own Shit for all I care."
And then Han moved—not a step, but a blur, closing the distance between them like a predator finally done playing.
Dave braced.
"Killing you will be the highlight of my life."
Han's shockwave slammed into Dave—but the man barely flinched, his reinforced body absorbing the blow like steel swallowing a hammer strike.
Dave's counterpunch was a blur.
CRACK.
Han's head snapped sideways, his cheekbone cratering under the impact. For a split second, his face twisted grotesquely, neck tendons straining—nearly spinning full circle before he wrenched himself back, teeth bared in a snarl.
Teleport—NOW—
He blinked out, but something was different.
Leor's eyes narrowed. Before, Han's teleportation looked like particles dissolving. This time? It was like a chunk of the air itself had been ripped away.
"Dave—!" Leor's warning came too late.
WHOOM.
Han reappeared behind Dave, his fist already plowing into his spine—
—and the shockwave that followed wasn't a boom.
It was a hypersonic whipcrack, a force so concentrated it punched through Dave like a railgun round.
SKREEE—BOOM!
Dave TORPEDOED through three buildings, concrete exploding in his wake, before skidding across the harbor's surface like a skipped stone, each impact sending up geysers of whitewater.
Leor's breath caught.
That wasn't just teleportation backlash.
Han had weaponized it.
And now, grinning like a devil, he cracked his knuckles and turned back toward Leor.
"Your turn."
Leor's breath came in ragged gasps. His body refused to obey, his right arm hanging limp at his side. Han's taunts slithered into his ears like poison.
"Kid, don't blame yourself," Han sneered, slowly closing the distance. "Having a donkey for a mentor? That's just fate setting you up for failure." His grin widened. "Don't worry—I won't kill you. I'll just break you until the sound of my name makes your bones rattle."
Leor's mind raced. No escape. No backup. No way to fight back—
Then—
WHOOSH—CRACK!
A green-lit comet SLAMMED into Han from the harbor, the impact vaporizing the ruins around them in a shockwave of superheated air.
Han skidded across the pavement, ribs audibly cracking, blood sheeting down his face as he clawed at the ground. His vision swam—until it focused on the towering figure looming over him.
Dave.
"Stay down," Dave growled, his metallic veins pulsing emerald. "Or I'll make you."
Han's response?
Laughter.
A hysterical, bone-chilling cackle, his teeth stained red. "You think… you've won?" He spat blood, his voice twisting with mania. "I am superior. Beings like me don't lose to filth like you. No. No. NO."
Then—his hand dug into his shoe, pulling out a crimson pill.
He bit down.
CRUNCH.
Instantly, his body erupted in violent red veins, muscles swelling grotesquely, wounds knitting themselves shut in seconds. His skin darkened to a bruised scarlet, his breath coming in steam-hissing exhales.
When he looked up, his eyes were black pits, his killing intent so dense it pressed against Dave's skin like a blade.
"Now," Han whispered, crazed and euphoric. "Let me show you how a god kills a peasant."
Han sprang toward Dave, his movements a blur of motion. Dave, still reeling from Han's earlier breakdown, barely had time to react. Just as Han closed the distance, Dave braced himself, his dark metallic body reinforcing with a series of rapid, mechanical clicks. Neon-green light surged through his veins, pulsing brighter as his defensive systems flared to life—ready to absorb the impact.
But Han was already gone.
With a sound like a vacuum sealing shut, Han vanished, sucking in an even larger gulp of air this time. The atmosphere trembled in his wake. A split second later, he materialized beneath Dave, his fist rocketing upward in a devastating uppercut. The sonic boom from his reappearance amplified the strike, the shockwave ripping through the air. Dave's body lifted off the ground before crashing into a pile of debris, steel and concrete scattering like shrapnel.
Groaning, Dave forced himself up. His legs trembled; if not for his reinforced defenses, that blow would have shattered him. Gritting his teeth, he launched forward at full speed, his metallic frame humming with exertion. Han smirked, attempting to teleport again—but this time, Dave's hand snapped out, seizing Han's wrist in an iron grip.
Before Han could react, Dave unleashed a barrage of punches, each strike a piston-driven hammer to Han's face. But instead of pain, Han's laughter erupted—wild, unhinged. The red pill hadn't just healed him; it had fortified his body beyond reason.
With a sudden jerk, Han twisted, driving his foot into Dave's midsection. Using the momentum, he yanked Dave's arm—still locked onto his wrist—and pivoted, his body arcing through the air in a flawless koshi-waza. Dave flipped violently, his back slamming into the ground with a thunderous crack.
Han didn't let up. He grabbed Dave's head, his fingers digging into the metal plating. Then, the world dissolved around them.
They teleported in a dizzying sequence—through crumbling buildings, across jagged mountain faces, the scenery blurring into streaks of color and noise. Each jump lasted only a fraction of a second, but the cumulative force was brutal. Finally, they reappeared high in the sky, the wind howling around them.
Han held Dave's face, his grip unrelenting. "I'll be waiting downstairs," he said, voice cold.
Then he let go.
Dave plummeted, the ground rushing up to meet him as Han vanished once more.
Dave's body slammed into the ground like a meteor. The impact detonated a shockwave that ripped through Harrow Point, splitting the earth open in a jagged crater. Dust and debris bloomed into the air, swallowing the ruins in a choking haze.
Leor, still stunned, forced himself forward, his legs unsteady. His vision swam, but he could make out Dave's crumpled form in the wreckage. He had to reach him.
But before he could take another step—a fist materialized out of nowhere.
It buried itself into Leor's stomach with a sickening thud, lifting him off his feet. The air exploded from his lungs as he crashed backward, skidding across the broken pavement. His muscles locked, refusing to obey. Get up. GET UP.
Gritting his teeth, Leor raised a trembling hand. The last remnants of lightning still crackling around his body surged into his palm, gathering into a searing orb of raw energy. With a roar, he released it—a blinding spear of electricity that scorched a molten trench into the ground as it rocketed toward Han.
"Quite the desperate attempt," Han mused, his voice dripping with amusement.
Leor's blood ran cold.
Han was already beside him.
"Powerful… but bad."
Leor's gaze flickered toward the crater where Dave lay. For the first time in years—fear clawed at his chest. Not fear of Han. Fear of losing Dave. His body wouldn't move. His limbs felt like lead.
Han loomed over him, a predator savoring the kill. "I told you I'd beat the shit out of you."
His foot lashed out, crushing Leor's face into the dirt. The world spun, but Leor clung to consciousness—only for a storm of kicks to rain down on him.
Thud. Crack. Thud.
Each strike hammered into his ribs, his stomach, his legs. Pain blurred his thoughts, but he couldn't even scream.
"Now for the final act," Han sneered, dropping to one knee.
His fists became pistons, pummeling Leor's face with methodical brutality. Five minutes. Five minutes of unrelenting violence, each jab splitting skin, cracking bone, turning the world into a red haze.
Then—a voice cut through the chaos.
"That's enough, Han."
Leor's vision swam, his eyes barely able to make out the silhouette standing over them. Blurred. Distant.
His last thought before darkness took him—
Dave…