"What? He can still move?"
Up in Universe Six's box, Champa's jaw practically unhinged. He had been sure the fight was over, yet the arena had just erupted as two forces collided head on. Even a God of Destruction could only take so many whiplash turns in one match.
Behind him, Vados watched Vincent's sudden counter with open surprise. "How curious. That aura around his hands…"
Her eyes narrowed, twin needles of focus locking on Vincent. Both of his hands were still in their elemental state, she realized, sheathed in living fire.
"It is as if his hands are made of flame. The time prison seems to have no hold on that part of him."
"Elemental state? What is that supposed to mean?" Champa asked, baffled.
"Nothing you need now. Watch closely. It is still far too soon to call a winner."
On Universe Seven's side, Beerus had already written the round off. Then the arena blossomed with a violent blast and he nearly leapt out of his skin.
"What is going on?"
He stared down. A pillar of fire raged where Vincent had been trapped a heartbeat earlier. Even at this distance the heat bit through the air.
"Looks like Vincent had a trump card after all," Whis said.
"A trump card? You are telling me that was him?" Beerus gaped at the inferno. "No way. That was him?"
Whis nodded. Beerus whooped, grabbed the Old Kai like a rag doll, and bounced in place.
"Beautiful, Vincent. Wahoo."
"My neck is going to snap," the Old Kai wheezed.
On the arena, Hit had already turned to leave, certain he had finished it. The sudden detonation stopped him cold.
"What?"
He crossed his arms to shield his face as the wave of heat rolled over him. The temperature spiked hard enough to light sections of his armor on fire. He slipped into Time-Skip for a fraction of safety and flashed away.
"Going somewhere?"
A figure burst through the blaze. Vincent. He had torn free of the temporal shackles.
He arrowed after Hit at brutal speed, one hand still fully flame manifested, reaching to clamp down.
"Time-Skip."
Feeling the heat closing in from behind, Hit reacted on instinct. He skipped again.
The back-to-back jumps bled him dry. His reserves were already spent. Another skip and his breath started to hitch. Vincent only sped up.
Fwoom. Fwoom.
Fire jetted from Vincent's palms, the recoil hurling him forward even faster.
Scorched stone sagged and glassed over in his wake.
The gap shrank.
Ten meters.
Eight.
Five.
Three.
Hit's brow tightened. He no longer had the strength to slip time again. Without the technique that served as both blade and lifeline, what was left?
He stopped running and turned to face Vincent.
Vincent halted two meters away. "This is where it ends, Hit."
"Agreed."
Hit gave a thin, crooked smile and raised his guard. "I will use everything I have left. My killing arts. If I kill you I will be erased, but that hardly matters now."
His eyes flicked once toward Caulifla and Kale, then farther, where Jiren sat like a mountain. The gap was too wide to bridge. Even against Jiren he had gambled on Time-Skip. Perhaps there had been a chance. Against this man with those eyes that seemed to see through time, that chance was gone.
"How will you answer?" he asked softly.
The assassin's poise returned in a breath. He vanished. Not a skip. Pure speed.
Veins stood out at the corner of Vincent's eyes as he drove the Byakugan to its limit. Hit flashed to every blind angle, calibrating the single line that would do the most damage. He had always finished fights with one invisible fist.
He forgot that nothing in Vincent's field of vision counted as a blind side.
Vincent stood relaxed and still. Those pale eyes never left the space in front of him.
Now.
Hit committed. His right fist knifed toward the spine, a killing punch meant to end pain before it began.
A prickle of dread crawled up the back of his neck. He ignored it and drove through.
Vincent's hand swept back and closed around Hit's knuckles.
"What?"
Shock cracked Hit's composure. His punch had been caught.
"When did you track me?" he asked, but there was no panic in him now, only clarity.
"You were always in my sight."
Vincent turned, meeting his gaze. Hit chuckled under his breath.
"As I thought. Being read at a glance is a feeling I will never like."
Vincent smiled. Fire gathered in his right palm and compressed into a tight sphere. "Goodbye."
The shot erupted point blank.
Boom.
The fireball hurled Hit skyward, carrying him off the stage in a burning arc. A moment later Vincent willed the flame to dissipate. Deprived of momentum, Hit fell into the void like a cut wire.
"Universe Six's warrior Hit has fallen from the ring. The match continues."
The Grand Minister's voice rang out only after he watched Hit's trajectory and saw there was no path back.
High above, two small hands danced over two glowing tablets. On the Zenos' boards, the portrait of Universe Six's ace faded to gray.
----------------------------------------------------
The deeper he goes, the more the truth unravels. Don't wait read ahead and witness Vincent's rise before the world catches up!
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