----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The air trembled.
Not from heat, nor from sound—but from tension.
Fenra stood motionless, her eyes fixed on Vernasha, her breathing firm, calculated. It was as if she were listening to something no one else could hear—a silent call coming from her own body.
Vernasha tilted her head, her smile curving with irony.
—Are you going to stand there, frozen, or will you finally try to surprise me? — she taunted, rotating her wrist, the energy around her glowing in golden and violet fractals. —Or have you finally understood that your technique… is useless against me?
Fenra did not answer.
Her left eye shone.
A fine, cutting gleam that was not light—it was pure, condensed tension.
And then… the world seemed to stop.
The flow of energy within her began to reverse.
Every fiber of her body reacted as if her blood were burning while running backward, as if her heart were beating out of rhythm. An error. A paradox.
But she sustained it.
— …Ah. — Vernasha took a step back, surprised. —So that's it… you've inverted the flow.
She smiled, this time with genuine fascination.
—You created the negative Fenra, didn't you? An inverted version of yourself… so there would be someone upon whom to apply your condition. — She lifted her chin, enchanted. —A perfect inversion of Yin and Yang. What a brilliant idea… and suicidal.
Fenra kept her gaze fixed, her body trembling under the pressure of her own technique.
The distortion around her seemed to breathe. The air rippled as if space refused to hold its form.
Vernasha laughed softly.
—You really are trying to die, aren't you?
—No. — Fenra replied, her voice hoarse. —I'm trying to truly live.
And then she moved.
It wasn't speed.
It was a denial of logic.
A movement so smooth, so slow to the eyes, that the impact came before her body moved.
Vernasha barely had time to react. The kick struck her face with brutal force, throwing her backward. The structures of the dimension shattered like glass.
Vernasha's body bounced amidst the void, spinning before recomposing itself in the air.
She touched her lower lip, wiping the blood with her thumb.
The smile returned, this time tenser, more alive.
—Ah… that's new. — she murmured. —So this is the taste of lucid insanity…
Fenra remained firm, the air vibrating around her as if she were the center of a vortex.
The non-existent ground bent under her feet, the lines of reality oscillating, unable to keep up with the new rhythm of her body.
The slower I move… the faster I become.
The thought echoed, simple and terrifying.
Every small gesture of hers created an absurd reaction, as if time had surrendered to her will.
Vernasha opened her arms, her laughter returning.
—How beautiful. How dangerous.
Dozens of copies sprouted around her, taking form in sequence.
Distorted clones, shadows with identical smiles, swirling around her.
—Then come, Fenra. — Vernasha's voice echoed among the copies. —Hunt me, if you can.
The horde advanced.
But Fenra did not see a multitude.
She saw lines. Movements before they existed. Compressed possibilities.
And in an instant, it was all over.
The clones shattered one by one, in fractions of a second, in silence.
When Fenra reappeared, she was before the real Vernasha—her scarred eye glowing like a fissure in reality.
Vernasha tried a strike, but it was in vain.
Fenra dodged before the attack was even born, the distortion around her swallowing the movement.
For a second, Vernasha seemed to laugh.
But there was fear in her laughter.
And for the first time—Fenra was smiling too.
She struck Vernasha in a nanosecond.
And then she moved.
One step.
And the world broke.
The sound of the distortion spread like contained thunder, and before Vernasha could react, a blow struck her abdomen. Another, her face. Another, her collarbone. An insane sequence—too fast to follow, too slow to be seen.
Vernasha was thrown from one side of the dimension to the other, her body contorting under the pressure of invisible blows. Each impact bent the air, each breath tore space.
—Hah… Hahahahaha! — she guffawed, spitting blood, her smile widening in ecstasy. —Yes! Yes! This is what I wanted to see!
Fenra advanced once more, her body nearly untouchable, each of her movements seeming to disobey time. She spun in the air, gaining a deadly momentum.
The final impact threw Vernasha back, smashing her against one of the floating structures, which shattered on contact.
For a few seconds, silence reigned.
Fenra remained firm, her gaze fixed, her chest heaving.
But Vernasha did not seem defeated.
She rose slowly—blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, her eyes shining like fire contained in glass.
—Fenra… — she murmured, her voice hoarse but calm. —You did it. You finally understood what it means to transcend.
She extended her hands, and space began to tremble.
Waves of energy formed around her, mimicking the same inverted flow swirling around Fenra.
—But did you really think I would just stand still and watch you evolve alone? — her smile widened, almost maternal, almost cruel. —If chaos molds you, why couldn't I let it mold me too?
Fenra narrowed her eyes.
She felt it—something was different.
The field vibrated as if two realities were trying to coexist.
She… is doing the same as me?
The thought snapped through her mind.
But her reasoning was cut short by instinct.
It doesn't matter.
If she wants to copy me, she'll die trying.
Fenra shot forward.
In less than a second, she was upon Vernasha.
She raised her leg, aiming a kick that would sever Vernasha's head—but it cut only empty air.
The figure before her vanished.
— …What? — Fenra spun, her eyes searching.
A violent pain exploded at the top of her head.
Not worry or thought.
A kick.
Heavy.
Direct.
Fenra flew, tumbling across the ethereal white plane that absorbed the blood flowing from her head.
When she rose, staggering, Vernasha was already observing her from above, her body erect, her posture impeccable.
That presence—provocative, serene, and yet terrifying—made the air bend.
—Come on, warrior. — Vernasha lifted her chin, her gaze sparkling. —Show me if you can fight now… as an equal.
Fenra clenched her fists.
The blood running between her fingers evaporated before it could fall.
And then the two moved.
Flashes of displacement.
Lights, shadows, echoes—bodies crossing the field in an impossible frenzy.
Fenra attacked, Vernasha disappeared.
Vernasha reappeared, Fenra reacted.
Blows collided in micro-instants, space fracturing with every touch.
Until Vernasha landed a hit.
A dry punch to the stomach.
Another to the chin.
Another to the temple.
Fenra staggered—but she grabbed Vernasha's hand before she could vanish.
And, suddenly, she felt the vertigo.
The world flickered.
Their positions inverted.
Vernasha was moving through space itself—without altering the scenery, merely rearranging herself within it.
It was almost teleportation, but it wasn't.
It was a precise substitution, an exchange of existence within the same dimensional point.
And in that moment, something echoed in Fenra's mind.
A memory.
Mei's voice.
"That woman with the mark on her face… Vernasha…
Every time she changes the scenery, she shifts position a few meters back, but she can probably control the direction of her translocation.
Facing her without blocking the flow and preventing her from using that technique is suicide.
Even for me, it would be problematic."
Fenra gasped.
So that was it.
She was applying her technique to herself.
But how?
Vernasha didn't need a second body.
She didn't need anyone.
What she was—and what she understood—defied the very concept of technique.
Fenra gritted her teeth, her heart pounding like a bomb about to explode.
Vernasha merely smiled, rotating her wrist as blood trickled down her cheek.
And with that luminous, insane gaze, she whispered:
—I told you, Fenra… I am the board... And I can tilt it to whatever angle and position I want.
With a spontaneous and well-planned body movement, Vernasha broke free.
Fenra blinked and felt the air tremble around her.
Vernasha had disappeared again.
The space seemed intact, but her presence was at another point, a few meters ahead.
Fenra retreated, spinning on her axis, trying to anticipate the next move.
Her heart raced, her blood running like rivers of fire.
—So that's how it is… — Fenra murmured, her voice low, almost to herself.
—You can only displace yourself a few meters at a time.
The realization brought clarity, but no relief.
Vernasha advanced suddenly, reappearing on the right, her fist aimed at Fenra's stomach.
Fenra rolled, dodged, tried to strike—but Vernasha vanished again, reappearing on the other side, smiling, her body tilted as if dancing between dimensions.
"So that's it…" Fenra thought, feeling the flow of her own technique pulse within her body.
"If I can move fast enough, I can reach the next point before she displaces…"
She shot forward.
Her body like lightning, her perception altered to the extreme, every muscle calibrated with surgical precision.
And for an instant, it seemed Fenra would catch Vernasha.
But she moved again.
A few meters.
The impact came from nowhere—a kick straight to the side of Fenra's head, hurling her against the nearest platform.
The warrior gasped, blood flowing, her vision blurry.
Her perception told her she was closer to landing a hit, but reality showed the opposite.
Vernasha floated, arms open, smile wide.
—Impressive… — she said, her voice echoing across the unstable field. —You're almost catching me… but you still don't understand.
Fenra stood up.
Her body trembled, but not from fear. It trembled with determination.
Her mind spun, trying to decipher the pattern.
—So that's it… — Fenra took a deep breath. —It's an unlimited power, infinite… problematic.
She advanced again, applying maximum speed, every movement calculated to cut the minimal remaining distance.
But each time she arrived, Vernasha displaced with millimeter precision, leaving only emptiness where she should have been.
The fight was no longer merely physical.
It was mathematical.
It was logical.
It was trial and error at the peak of speed.
Fenra realized that, no matter how much she guessed, each of Vernasha's movements required an almost impossible anticipation—and yet, her opponent seemed to be winning, moving, playing, flirting with every blow.
—You move like one who controls the impossible… — Fenra murmured to herself. —But I will find a way… I will…
Vernasha leaned her body, approaching just enough to provoke a shiver of tension.
—You've finally realized, Fenra… — she said, almost with cruel tenderness. —But it's not enough. Not while you still depend on guessing.
Vernasha's smile was predatory.
And even at a distance, the air trembled as if space itself were aware of the battle.
Fenra closed her fists.
Took a deep breath.
Something new was emerging.
She needed to go beyond.
Anticipating wasn't enough.
Reacting wasn't enough.
She needed to transcend her own perception.
And the next assault wouldn't be just speed… it would be evolution.
The silence between one exchange and the next lasted less than the blink of an eye.
The air, once merely dense, now vibrated as if space itself were suffocating. Fenra breathed heavily, her body arched, her muscles pulsing with pure energy—but it wasn't fatigue. It was something beyond. It was the herald of transcendence.
She had come too far to retreat.
But, at the same time, she perceived—she was still a prisoner of her own movements.
"I transcended the technique… but what about my body? My actions follow the same pattern. The same blows, the same reasoning… just faster."
Fenra's mind spun, trying to tear the veil between logic and instinct.
Amidst that fine line, something pulsed—an ancient will, as if her very blood whispered the way.
She needed to go beyond.
On the other side, Vernasha watched with that soft, dangerous smile.
Her eyes vibrated with silvery light, and her voice sounded like silk and blade at once.
—You're thinking too much, little Fenra… — she murmured, advancing. —Reason is a cage. And you're still inside it.
The two collided.
The impact bent the ground.
Fenra dodged, but the flow of blows was impossible—each of Vernasha's assaults came from a different angle, beyond the reach of logic, almost as if space were a toy in her hands.
But Fenra smiled, panting, her eyes vibrating with pure concentration.
And then—she remembered.
"My technique has stages…"
"The first is Displacement. The second, Reversal."
"But the third…"
A flash tore through her mind.
The Box.
The phase where space folds and the enemy is imprisoned alongside Fenra's energy—an invisible prison, which she controls as if it were an extension of herself.
But in that moment, there was no enemy.
She would have to apply the box to herself.
Fold herself.
Mirror herself.
Transcend the limit of her own existence.
Vernasha advanced, laughing, a sound of pure disbelief.
—You'll destroy yourself trying to be what you don't understand!
But Fenra did not answer.
She closed her eyes.
And for an instant, the air stopped.
The distortions around her became visible, as if the world were made of liquid glass about to break.
She sought an impossible balance—between what is and what should be.
And then, the world split apart.
Vernasha moved—vanished.
And when she reappeared, a hand pierced through her head, before she had time to even comprehend what had happened.
Blood sprayed in a perfect arc.
Vernasha staggered, stunned, and before she could react she was thrown with brutality, her body colliding against one of the distorted structures of that plane.
The echo of the impact resonated for long seconds.
Vernasha brought a hand to her face.
Blood.
And she smiled.
A nearly maternal, insane smile, from one witnessing a birth.
—You did it alone… — she whispered, licking the blood at the corner of her mouth. —You managed to break your own structure. Fenra… you are truly blossoming.
Without wasting time, Vernasha advanced again, trying to decipher Fenra's new technique. She teleported, but the moment she prepared her strike, Fenra was already ahead, ready to intercept. Vernasha moved again, but upon reappearing, she felt Fenra's leg aiming for her skull.
The clash of forces resonated through space, as if the plane itself lamented the violence. The battle had transformed. It was no longer just about blows or speed; it was about transcending limits, about the absolute control of perception, about the evolution of one's very existence in combat.
And, for an instant, Fenra smiled. For the first time, she trusted fully in her technique and in herself. The warrior was no longer just fast, no longer just a manipulator of space—she was a force that defied the very concept of limits, ready to go beyond all she had ever known.
Vernasha, watching with gleaming eyes, licked the blood again and advanced, intrigued and challenged. She knew the game had just changed.
And both knew, that they could indeed go further.
To be continued…
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------