Lian limped through the city nights, blood drying on his torn clothes.
The cuts from Blitz's claws burned deep—shoulder shredded, back raked, arms crisscrossed with red lines. Bruises bloomed purple across ribs and thighs. Every step pulled at the wounds.
He found his hidden tunnel under a forgotten warehouse.
Collapsed against the cold wall.
Alone.
For the first time since Harlan died, something new cracked inside him.
Not the spark.
Not revenge.
Puzzlement.
Deep.
Confusing.
He replayed the fight in his head.
Over and over.
Blitz's blur.
The way he moved—there, then not.
Claws coming from angles Lian saw too late.
He had learned.
Adapted.
Predicted paths.
But body couldn't follow.
Too slow.
Peak Foundation—not enough.
He sat there hours.
Void eyes staring at cracked concrete.
Blood dripped slow from shoulder.
Why?
I beat stronger ones.
Higher realms.
But speed…
Speed broke me.
He touched the deepest cut on his chest.
Felt the throb.
Felt the limit.
Humans are weak.
Power is the only truth.
But truth hit hard tonight.
I am still weak.
The puzzlement grew.
Not anger.
Not despair.
A cold question.
How do I get faster?
How do I close that gap?
He cleaned wounds with stolen water.
Bandaged with torn cloth.
Slept little.
Dreamed of claws.
Woke before dawn.
Practiced.
Slow at first—body stiff, wounds pulling.
Then faster.
Repeated Blitz's patterns he remembered.
Shadow sparred the blur.
Dodged air.
Struck nothing.
Tried to feel the speed.
Failed.
But kept going.
Days passed.
He avoided the academy.
Healed in shadows.
Scars added to scars.
New white lines over old.
He stole better food—protein packs, healing herbs from markets.
Body mended.
Foundation Peak consolidated.
No breakthrough.
Stuck.
He watched speed in the city.
Threnn runners in lower races.
Flying cars zipping overhead.
Drones darting.
Studied motion.
Flow.
Timing.
Practiced bursts.
Short dashes.
Quick turns.
Wall runs.
But still slow compared to Blitz.
The puzzlement stayed.
A weight.
He needed more.
The academy pulled again.
One evening, wounds scabbed, he returned.
Climbed the wall.
Dropped into gardens.
The yard lit.
Students there.
Fewer this time.
But serious ones.
They saw him emerge from shadows.
No surprise.
Blitz stood center.
Ears forward.
Claws sheathed.
"You came back."
Lian nodded.
Blitz tilted head. "Rematch?"
Others watched quiet.
Lian stepped forward.
Circle formed.
No words.
They began.
Blitz blurred.
Faster than before.
Lesson learned—he held nothing back.
Claws flashed.
Lian dodged first strike—predicted better.
Second grazed arm.
Third cut cheek.
He countered—fist to blur trail.
Missed.
But closer.
Learned mid-fight.
Adjusted footwork.
Shortened stance.
Anticipated patterns.
Landed one graze—knuckle brush on fur.
Blitz paused half-second.
Surprised.
Then faster.
Storm of claws.
Lian bled more.
Back.
Arms.
Leg.
Took hits to close distance.
Grabbed fur once—yanked.
Blitz twisted free.
Claw rake to side—deep.
Lian staggered.
But stayed up.
Void eyes puzzled still.
Learning.
Adapting.
He mirrored speed bursts—body strained.
Almost matched one dash.
Almost.
At the end, Blitz stopped.
Claw at throat again.
"Yield."
Lian knelt this time.
Blood pooled under him.
Body shaking.
He looked up.
Puzzled deeper.
How?
So close… but not.
Blitz lowered claw.
"You're faster than last time. Much."
Others murmured agreement.
Lian stood slow.
Blood dripped.
He nodded once.
Thanks.
Turned.
Walked to shadows.
No shame.
Just weight.
The puzzlement fueled him now.
Same as revenge.
He slipped away.
Healed again.
Practiced harder.
Speed drills until legs gave out.
Prediction games—dodging falling debris in junkyards.
Watching fast aliens in markets.
Stealing their flow.
The weight stayed.
But he carried it.
Humans are weak.
Power is the only truth.
I will break this limit.
Whatever it takes.
The Scarred Ghost vanished into city night.
Wounded.
Puzzled.
But unchanged.
The spark burned.
Waiting for the next fight.
The next lesson.
The next step.