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The heavy, rhythmic sound stopped.
Thud… thud… thud…
At the mouth of a narrow alley squeezed between two towering Gothic buildings, a swirl of black-gold sand spun slowly, condensing from nothing into something solid. The grains fused together, shaping themselves into a majestic suit of golden armor, a billowing cloak of shadow that fluttered without wind, and a Pharaoh's mask staring blankly into the darkness.
The Immortal had arrived.
He stood still for a moment, allowing the magical sensors behind his mask to scan his new surroundings. The alley was the antithesis of the opulence of the Smelting Pot District outside. This place stank. It smelled of wet garbage, stagnant runoff, and rotting desperation. The brick walls, slick with moss, dripped dirty water that faintly shimmered under the twin moons barely piercing the narrow gap above.
"Haa… a perfect place to hide," he muttered, his voice echoing softly in the tight space.
His gaze—sharp and analytical—cut through the thick shadows at the far end of the alley. There, near a pile of shattered wooden crates and an overflowing trash bin, something moved.
A figure, hunched protectively over something, sitting with its back to him.
It was a—a no, a someone: a feline humanoid.
Her body was lean yet solid, covered in white fur that should have been pristine but was now matted, clumped with street filth and old cooking grease. She wore—or rather had draped over her—a tattered brown cloak full of holes, barely covering the naked body underneath. Her long, bushy tail flicked anxiously, sweeping the filthy alley floor in a wary rhythm: left-right, left-right.
Rough, rapid chewing echoed through the alley. She was eating. Eating with a feral, desperate hunger.
The Immortal tilted his head slightly. His glowing violet eyes narrowed behind the mask, zooming in.
In the creature's hands was a scrap of stale bread, likely stolen or plucked from a restaurant's trash. But it wasn't the bread that caught his attention. It was her arms. Beneath the dirty white fur, the muscles of her arms and back tightened and relaxed with frightening definition. Every fiber looked like coiled steel cables—dense, explosive, and utterly unnatural for someone who looked like a vagrant.
"Hmm…" the Immortal murmured, his cold curiosity piqued. "Where did she get those muscles? They're certainly not from a diet of trash bread."
As if sensing the piercing stare on her back—or perhaps a disturbance in the alley's airflow—the feline froze. Her chewing stopped. The furry triangular ears atop her head twitched sharply, swiveling backward like radar dishes.
Slowly, she turned.
Those eyes. Golden-amber eyes with vertical pupils that narrowed sharply when they locked onto the towering golden Pharaoh at the alley's mouth. There was no fear in those eyes. Only wild caution—the pure instinct of a cornered beast ready to tear out the throat of anyone who dared approach.
The scrap of bread dropped from her hand onto the wet ground with a sad plop.
"Shhhh…" The Immortal raised a gauntleted hand in a calming gesture. "I don't mean—"
HIIISSSSSSS!
She hissed, a sharp, threatening sound that bared her white fangs. The fur along her neck bristled.
And in the blink of an eye, she moved.
It wasn't running. It was detonation.
ZRAK!
The cat exploded from her sitting position, leaving a swirling trail of dust. She didn't run toward the alley exit behind the Immortal. She ran toward the wall.
With gravity-defying agility, she sprinted up the vertical bricks, claws gripping the cracks, then leapt toward the heavy iron manhole in the middle of the alley. With one hand, she lifted the fifty-kilogram cover as though it were paper, and slipped into the darkness below.
CLANG!
The lid slammed back into place.
The Immortal blinked. "Hey! Don't run!"
He stepped forward—but stopped. The opening was too small for his armored frame.
"Ah, troublesome," he sighed. "Why does everything interesting in this world insist on diving into narrow holes?"
He had no choice. His solid body began to shake. His outline blurred. The golden armor, the shadow cloak, and the flesh beneath all collapsed into millions of glimmering black-gold grains of sand.
Whusss…
The stream of sand slid across the alley floor, slipping through the tiny ventilation gaps in the iron cover, dripping into the darkness below like an overturned hourglass.
Beneath, the world was a wet, foul-smelling labyrinth.
The City's underground waterways were a grim engineering marvel—vast curved brick tunnels stretching in every direction, filled with rushing wastewater. The constant dripping—drip, drip, drip—was the only music, echoing against slime-slick walls.
On a narrow concrete platform beside the canal, the mound of black sand swirled upward, solidifying back into the towering Immortal. The violet light from his eyes and chest crystal became the only illumination in this eternal darkness.
He looked left. Empty.
He looked right. Empty.
"Hmm… alright," he muttered, his voice echoing oddly in the damp corridor. "Where did that cat run off to?"
He closed his eyes, extending his enhanced perception. Not scent—the stench here was too overwhelming—but energy. And he found it.
Far down the dark corridor to his right, there was a faint trace of ozone. Burned air. And a hint of static.
The Immortal opened his eyes. He saw it: a thin streak of flickering yellow lightning suspended in the air, a leftover trail of something that moved very, very fast.
"Oh… interesting," he whispered, a thin smile forming behind the mask. "An electric cat? Now that's new."
He bent his knees slightly. Black sand whirled around his feet.
BOOM!
He shot forward—not running, but flying. He propelled himself like a tactical missile through the sewer, hovering inches above the murky water, his body wreathed in a golden-black aura that split the darkness.
He streaked through the winding tunnels, turning with razor precision, nearly scraping the wet brick walls. The wind from his speed sent ripples across the wastewater. His golden-black trail glowed behind him like the tail of a comet in the underground night.
The lightning trail grew stronger the deeper he went.
And finally, he saw her.
Ahead, about a hundred meters away, the white figure sprinted. She was running on all fours now, her movement so fast she appeared as a white blur. Tiny arcs of yellow electricity danced across her body, illuminating the tunnel ahead in strobing flashes.
The cat—Stormclaw—looked back. Her amber eyes widened when she saw the golden projectile chasing her.
KZZZRT!
Lightning flared bright around her. She accelerated. She wasn't running anymore; she became a zig-zagging bolt of light, ricocheting off walls, floor, and ceiling.
"Hey! Don't run!" the Immortal shouted, his voice filled with inappropriate excitement. "I just want to ask what protein shake you drink!"
They darted through the labyrinthine tunnels—left, right, up, down. Stormclaw used her natural agility to pull off impossible maneuvers, leaping over obstructing pipes, sliding under iron grates. The Immortal, relying on brute strength, simply broke through everything—smashing pipes with his shoulder, blasting iron gates with shockwaves from his speed.
Until the tunnel opened.
They burst into a massive chamber: the Central Cistern, where all the city's waterways converged before flowing into the sea. The room was a colossal cylinder, its ceiling hidden in darkness above and a deep churning pool of wastewater below. Concrete bridges and giant support pillars crossed the void.
Stormclaw landed on one of the mid-air concrete bridges, panting, electricity crackling wildly across her fur. Cornered. Ahead of her was only a waterfall of sludge plunging into the depths.
And at that moment, the Immortal saw his chance.
He didn't slow.
He teleported.
WHOOSH.
In an instant, he appeared right behind her. Before Stormclaw could react, he lunged, wrapping his massive golden arms around the smaller cat in a crushing bear hug.
"Caught you!" he declared triumphantly.
Stormclaw's reflexes surpassed anything the Immortal had ever faced—even beyond Kaelith.
Without hesitation, without thought, she twisted her upper body. Her elbow, wrapped in dense blinding lightning, shot backward.
BZZZT-CRACK!
It struck the Immortal's masked face.
The impact was shocking. His head snapped back violently. Metal screeched. He stumbled a step, his grip loosening as electricity surged across his nerves.
That was all she needed.
With a near-invisible burst of speed, Stormclaw slipped free. She didn't flee. She spun through the air, her body turning a perfect 360 degrees.
Her right fist clenched, wrapped in a wildly spinning ball of lightning.
"Die!" the cat hissed—or maybe it was simply a snarl that sounded like words.
BOOM!
Her fist slammed into the Immortal's abdomen—dead center on his golden chestplate.
The force was insane. It wasn't a normal punch; it was kinetic devastation amplified by millions of volts. The Immortal's breath caught. His armor dented.
He was launched—hurled back at bullet speed. His feet carved trenches into the concrete before he lifted off, flying across the chamber and smashing into a massive support pillar.
KRA-KOOM!
The pillar fractured. His back hit the concrete wall behind it, shattering it and creating a body-shaped crater as dust and debris rained into the water below.
"Ugh…" The Immortal fell to one knee on the remaining ledge, clutching his ringing head and smoking torso. "Oh… that hurt. Seriously."
He looked up—and his eyes widened.
Stormclaw didn't give him a second. She had already leapt—soaring high above him. At the peak of her jump, directly above the Immortal, she aligned herself perfectly. Both fists clenched together above her head, her whole body straight like a spear. A storm of white-hot lightning raged around her, turning her into a living thunderbolt.
She dove.
The Immortal didn't try to block it. He understood the physics of the attack.
WHOOSH.
He teleported, vanishing in a puff of black smoke a split second before impact.
KABOOOOOM!
Stormclaw's strike obliterated the platform where he had knelt. The concrete didn't just shatter—it vaporized. Lightning and debris exploded everywhere, collapsing the entire support pillar. Slabs of concrete the size of cars plunged into the sludge below with a colossal SPLASH.
The Immortal, now hovering several meters away, whistled softly behind his slightly cracked mask.
"Ohohoho… that was close," he said, his tone a blend of admiration and caution. "This little cat has claws."
Stormclaw landed on the opposite wall, claws dug into the concrete, electricity sparking wildly across her bristling fur. Her eyes burned into him. Without a word, she kicked off the wall, launching herself like a ricocheting bullet.
"Alright then," the Immortal said, raising his fists as black-gold sand swirled around them. "Let's dance."
The Immortal moved.
They collided mid-air, above the gaping chasm of wastewater.
A roaring burst of lightning met a storm of black-gold sand.
BLAAAAM!
The shockwave shattered light fixtures across the sewers, plunging the chamber into a dimness lit only by the sparks of their clashing powers.
The fight devolved into pure kinetic chaos—a brutal realization of every superhero comic Devon had ever read.
With each punch, each impact, someone was sent flying. Stormclaw smashed a fist into the Immortal's face, sending him skidding across the curved ceiling, sparks raining from the friction. The Immortal retaliated, catching her leg mid-air, spinning her, and slamming her downward.
She hit the ground—but twisted in midair, creating a miniature lightning tornado to cushion the fall, then used the momentum to launch herself upward like a deadly top.
The Immortal didn't remain passive. He charged straight through the tornado, his golden armor tanking the electrical slashes. He grabbed her by the throat.
"Down!"
He slammed Stormclaw into the wastewater below.
SPLAAAASH!
A twenty-meter column of filthy water erupted.
Underwater, the fight continued. Yellow and violet flashes pulsed in the murky depths. The water began to boil from the heat of Stormclaw's electricity.
Suddenly, they burst out of the water again. Stormclaw now hugged the Immortal's waist, using her super strength to rocket the golden Pharaoh upward. She drove him through one walkway—shattering it—and then another.
CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
His back smashed against the sewer wall at sonic speed. He felt his spine scream (before the crystal in his chest healed it). This cat was relentless—fighting like a wild beast trying to kill prey far larger than herself.
But the Immortal had no intention of killing. He only laughed—a muffled laugh, buried in broken concrete.
"You're strong!" he shouted amid the roaring debris. "But not heavy enough!"
He reversed their positions. Gripping Stormclaw's shoulders, he halted their momentum mid-air with sheer levitation. He drew his head back and—
BAM!
Headbutted her.
Stormclaw staggered, losing her grip. She fell, landing on all fours on a surviving platform, skidding backward, claws screeching across the concrete, leaving deep trenches.
The Immortal landed gently before her, his soaked shadow-cloak dripping wastewater, though his aura remained regal.
Stormclaw panted, blood dripping from her nose, one eye swollen. But she didn't surrender. The electricity around her intensified—yellow turning into blinding white. She growled, a sound vibrating with static.
The Immortal raised both fists, black sand swirling faster, forming colossal gauntlets.
"Come," he challenged.
Stormclaw charged.
The Immortal charged.
Time slowed as they rushed toward each other on the narrow bridge. Stormclaw's white-lightning fist aimed straight for the Immortal's face. The Immortal's black-sand fist aimed straight for hers.
Energy howled as their powers met at the midpoint.
FREEZE FRAME.
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