Ryker and the elite pound into each other with their weaknesses numb from adrenaline. The elite jabs at their target's skin as he fires at the side of their helm, missing the shots at point-blank range.
Ryker finds a fist blowing the air out of his stomach and throwing him back to the ground, rolling toward the edge of the platform. With the wound from before returning to wave a sharp pain through his body, Ryker calls out in agony as he holds himself against the cold platform below him.
The Reaper treads slowly toward their target and spins the blade in their hand, raising it to throw at Ryker's head.
Ryker raises his pistol, his vision diminishing another time, and aims above the helm of the elite. He fires a single bullet into the air, flying above the Reaper and out to the smoke. The elite steps over the wound again with a heavy boot to claim their success. They throw the blade in their hands into Ryker's chest, an inch away from the previous wound, and steps over the handle with pride. Ryker chokes on draining blood as he stares at himself through a faded mirror covering over the face of the elite.
His vision starts to blur out. The cold of the platform is taken by the heat of the wound as it pulses throughout his body.
Just as Ryker meets his last breaths, a storm of crystals crash from above. Dozens of diamond shards pierce into the back of the Reaper without warning, gleaming from the smoke and spreading glistened sparkles to litter over the platform. The Reaper freezes as the shards slice through the glass and puncture holes into their skin, a chandelier from above gifting the elite their demise.
In an instant, the surroundings shift back to what they were before the elite had altered them. As the Reaper falls to melt into a puddle of blood, Ryker closes his eyes for a moment and reclaims his senses. With another elite in front of him dotted in sparkles and sent to their afterlife, he knows his mission has brought the world beyond chaos. The streets are filled with roaring civilians, angered at the recognition of war. The people are outraged as a threat comes to violate the purpose of their holiday. The celebrations had begun annually after the end of the last battle with the Kaiyo against the Ikari. Those that fought within the endless conflict had never believed it would end, but once the Ikari had fled in fear, the Reapers were known as the heroes of the era. They were the ones to forge the Kaiyo and its independence.
It's easy to understand why people are so afraid when their heroes lie shattered and broken under their feet. The image of the Kaiyo is being chipped away with every second that ticks down, and soon the countdown won't be a celebration.
When the clock hits zero, fireworks won't touch the skies for the Kaiyo's independence. Instead, they will roar for their survival.