Space had no limits. Platforms floated without logic, undulating as if breathing under Vernasha's presence. Fenra advanced, ethereal blades cutting the air, but the feeling of being watched was overwhelming. She knew her every movement was being studied, not just as an attack, but as a reflection of her own existence.
Vernasha hovered a few meters ahead, arms crossed, head tilted slightly. A cold smile formed on her lips as her eyes scanned Fenra with surgical precision.
— Always running… always attacking… — murmured Vernasha, her voice like sharp silk. — You try so hard to understand others, to impose conditions, to distort the world around you. But tell me… have you ever looked inside yourself, Fenra?
Fenra tightened her grip on the ethereal blades, muscles tense. Each word burned like acid, penetrating her mind.
— I know what I am — she replied, firm, trying to maintain concentration. — I know how my technique works. I know the limits of my reach.
— Ah… but that is where you are mistaken. — Vernasha snapped her fingers, and the air rippled, small reflections of light distorting the floor before Fenra. — You understand what your soul is… but not its essence. Not the totality of who you are.
She moved with a light step, spinning in the air as if dancing with space itself. A clone appeared behind Fenra, only to disappear before it could attack. Vernasha wasn't concerned with fighting directly—she was playing a larger game.
— Look at you, — she continued, leaning forward, her hair floating in an almost hypnotic halo. — Limited by your own mediocrity. Unlimited potential imprisoned by your short existence. You think your attacks are powerful… but they are merely shadows of what could be.
Fenra took a step back, absorbing each word. Her breathing was heavy, but her racing heart wasn't just from physical exertion—it was the realization that those words were truths she had always known but never dared to confront.
— So you're telling me… I could go further? — said Fenra, trying to control the anger growing in her veins. — That I don't need to limit myself to the perception of others?
— Not just that. — Vernasha took a step forward, the platforms under her feet undulating as if they were extensions of her body. — You could transcend. Manipulate space, perception, reality itself… but first you must look into the mirror you've avoided for so long. And ask yourself: "Who am I, truly?"
Fenra clenched her hands, the ethereal metal of her blades groaning. The feeling of being studied, manipulated, was suffocating. And yet… there was a thread of defiance igniting within her, a spark of will she had never felt before.
— And you, Vernasha… — Fenra swallowed dryly. — You're doing this just to break me, aren't you? Just to test me, to buy time…
— Perhaps. Perhaps not. — Vernasha took a dance-like step, light as smoke. — I provoked you, yes. But not to destroy you. Not yet. I want to see… how far you can go. How far you can free yourself from what limits your own strength.
A clone appeared to Fenra's left, cutting through space with speed. She dodged, but there was no real impact—the attack was merely an extension of Vernasha's game. Every clone, every gesture, every step, every word was a provocation, a mirror held up for Fenra to face herself.
— You understand others, Fenra… — Vernasha continued, with a smile that was more enigma than malice. — Even Mei Nuhay seems to have been just a move on a board I observe. But you… you still believe you are merely a piece.
Fenra furrowed her brow, her thoughts spinning like a whirlwind. Each of Vernasha's words struck her mind, echoing truths she had never dared to admit. — So I'm not just a piece… — she murmured to herself, absorbing the tension. — I can be more… much more.
— Exactly. — Vernasha snapped her fingers again, an almost casual gesture that made the air tremble. — But only if you stop doubting. Only if you accept that your power doesn't need rules you invented yourself. Only if you dare to break the limits your own existence created.
Fenra took a deep breath. The real fight hadn't even begun, but something inside her was shifting. A thread of confidence ignited, thin and resilient. For the first time, as she watched Vernasha hovering above her field of vision, Fenra did not feel crushed.
— Then let's see… — said Fenra, her eyes shining not with doubt, but with determination. — Let's see how far I can go.
Vernasha tilted her head, a predatory smile appearing on her lips. The clones vanished, leaving the space empty, as if all the mirrors had been withdrawn. And, personally, she positioned herself face to face with Fenra, eye to eye, her aura expanding with the certainty of a goddess playing a cosmic board.
— Good. — she whispered. — Now begin.
And, for the first time, the battle of Truth began.
Space seemed to pulse, breathing to the rhythm of the tension between the two. Vernasha remained ahead, her penetrating eyes analyzing every fiber of Fenra's being. A suggestive smile played on her lips, as if she were about to witness something unique.
— So… — Vernasha began, tilting her head slightly, hair floating with ethereal lightness — you've finally decided to look inward. To yourself. Not at others… at you.
Fenra took a deep breath, ethereal blades suspended around her. For the first time, the awareness of her technique began to spin within her differently. It was no longer about applying conditions to others. No longer about manipulating another's space. It was about exploring her own body, her own mind, her own essence.
— If I can alter the perception of space and time… — Fenra thought — if I can accelerate and decelerate movements by manipulating others… then… perhaps… perhaps I can apply that to myself.
Vernasha, noticing the sudden glint in Fenra's left eye, leaned even further forward, her smile now sharper.
— Ah… finally. I see the spark. The glimmer. You've realized it, haven't you? — she said, each word a snap in the air — You were always more than human. You were always… limitless. You just never dared to discover it.
Fenra clenched her fists. Energy began to vibrate around her, no longer as blades, no longer as a direct attack, but as a pure conduction of perception. She felt the flow within herself. Every cell responding to a subtle, yet overwhelming, alteration. Every movement now seemed to transcend the very reality of the unstable dimension.
— Fenra… — Vernasha continued, moving with elegance, almost dancing — if you knew, if you dared… you could have stopped the origin of all this by yourself. You wouldn't have needed to work in the shadows. You wouldn't have needed to limit yourself. You could defeat any enemy, overcome any barrier. But you always hesitated.
The clones appeared again, trying to attack, but this time Fenra did not face them as before. She became the distortion itself. Every attack that came seemed slow, predictable. Every blow struck by a copy was absorbed, diverted, neutralized before it could even touch the air around her.
— Shut up! — Fenra roared, concentrating, energy circulating within her so intensely that the entire environment seemed to bend to her perception. — I'm thinking!
Vernasha let out a low laugh, sweet and predatory, leaning forward as one might lick their lips before a feast.
— That's it. Feel it. Experiment. You need nothing but yourself. Your power isn't in external rules… it's in you.
The light in Fenra's eye intensified, cutting through the space before her. The technique that once depended on external conditions was now self-applied. Every instant seemed simultaneously expanded and compressed. She was faster, more aware, more dangerous. As if every movement created its own vacuum, altering the perception of anyone nearby—including Vernasha.
— Interesting… — murmured Vernasha, her steps light, tracking every micro-gesture of the warrior — I see you've finally understood. But don't think it's over. Don't get comfortable. The wall before you… is still there. Will you climb it, or will you stumble again?
Fenra smiled. For the first time, there was no doubt. For the first time, confidence flowed as intensely as the energy coursing through her body.
The environment became a dance of distortions and reflections. Vernasha kept moving, leaving clones in strategic positions, testing Fenra's evolution, like one provoking a piece to finally achieve checkmate.
— Come, then… show me how far you'll go — said Vernasha, leaning forward, aura expanded, every gesture calculated, every word provoking growth. — I want to feel your limit… I want to see if it even exists.
And Fenra, feeling the pulse of her own technique coursing through every fiber, advanced.
The fight had changed. It was no longer just attack and defense. It was evolution. It was transcendence. It was the moment a human began to break her own barriers, and Vernasha, smiling, merely watched, knowing that every provocation had been the thread that activated Fenra's inner strength.
For the first time, Fenra smiled with confidence.
Vernasha's smile widened as she observed Fenra's every micro-gesture. She leaned in slightly, analyzing, like one observing a masterpiece in motion, and spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper that seemed to cross space itself:
— Interesting… so that's how you did it. — Her fingers moved lightly, tracing arcs in the void. — I applied my own projections, my copies, my control of space, and yet… you found a way.
She tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed, each word measured like a blade:
— To use your technique on yourself, you had to invert the flow. Create a Yin Yang of energy within your own body, create a negative Fenra so you could apply your technique, since it depends on a third party in a way… positive and negative coexisting, two flows that should mutually destroy each other. Normally, inverting the flow means instant death—any being who tries to sustain energy opposite to their essence is torn apart. But you… you found the balance.
The conditions of your technique must keep you alive even with an opposing flow.
Vernasha smiled, as if savoring every second:
— Look at you… a negative Fenra, a reflection of your own existence, created just to sustain the other. An absurd, almost suicidal risk, and yet you live. The concentration… the focus… is almost suffocating just to watch. You maintain the perfect balance between transcendence and destruction. A thread between power and death, between evolution and extinction.
She passed her hand through the air, gesturing softly, as if explaining a complex game:
— This isn't a direct challenge to me. It isn't confronting my space, my distortion. Here… you aren't facing another soul. You aren't trying to alter another being. You are bending your own existence. That is what no one has ever dared to do. — Her voice became slower, more deliberate — That is why it works. Because there are no limits that this space, created by the collision of our techniques canceling each other out, can impose when you apply it to yourself. A flaw in the logic, a loophole that gives you an advantage… or perhaps not.
Vernasha's smile became sharp, almost predatory:
— And look… even so, I can still have fun. I can still play with you, because the risk you take, the effort you make… fascinates me. You have transcended your own limits, Fenra, and yet… there is still one piece of the game you haven't understood.
She stepped back a few paces, arms crossed, observing.
— But continue. Show me how far you'll go. Test every movement, every thought. Make me feel your technique expand… and entertain me at the same time.
Vernasha knew she was witnessing something rare, a power no one else would dare to touch. A power that mixed the logic of Fenra's technique with the audacity to defy existence itself. And as Fenra took a deep breath, channeling energy to maintain the internal Yin Yang, the villain merely smiled, aware that, no matter how evolved Fenra had become, every step was also a provocation, an extension of the game Vernasha loved to play.
To be continued…