With a dizzying display of speed and skill, the dark hooded adversary spun like a cyclone, his long sword whirling through the air. The sheer velocity generated a tempestuous whirlwind, a vortex of chaos that emanated from his very being. In its furious wake, their own swords collided with the tumultuous tempest, only to be hurled back towards them with unstoppable force.
Undeterred by the torment coursing through her right shoulder, Tess valiantly battled on, summoning a sword with her remaining hand. The burn on her palm pulsed in sync with her wounded arm as she drove the blade deep into the unyielding ground, anchoring herself against the relentless onslaught of the adversary's raging tornado.
Her grip tightened around the hilt, her feet planted firmly on the earth, seeking stability amidst the storm. Loose strands of her white hair whipped across her face, lashing at her skin with the sting of a thousand tiny whips, while sharp gravel bombarded her sword, creating metallic clangs that reverberated through the air like an orchestra of steel.
The once-immaculate bun that had restrained her hair threatened to unravel, strands breaking free from their confinements. As if sensing her resilience, the tempest abruptly ceased its relentless assault, leaving the hooded adversary standing motionless, his face concealed within impenetrable darkness.
Within the stillness that followed, Tess's right arm hung grotesquely, dislocated from its socket, unleashing waves of searing pain that reverberated through her entire being. Tears welled in her eyes as she fought for each gasp of air, her body trembling with the aftershocks of the shock that threatened to overwhelm her.
Every exhale escaped her nostrils like a scorching blast, draining her of the precious energy that remained. She existed in a living nightmare, longing to unleash a primal cry of despair, Petra's happy visage flickering in her mind, reminding her of the unthinkable.
Summoning the very depths of her resolve, Tess cast her bloodshot gaze upon her teammates, her right arm rendered useless and her hope teetering on the brink of extinction. Continuing the fight had become an impossibility. Instinct surged through her, demanding escape from that accursed battleground.
But just as she readied herself to flee, the dark figure materialized before her, an imposing obstruction barring her path to freedom. A reflexive flinch betrayed her terror, her widened eyes mirroring the depths of her dread.
Acting on pure instinct, she wrenched her sword from the ground and swung it with all her might towards her imposing foe. Yet, in a display of effortless skill, he raised his elongated metal sword, halting her strike mere inches from his shrouded head.
Determination etched lines across her furrowed brows, her lips twitched with an unyielding resolve, and her trembling gaze remained locked on the abyss concealed beneath the depths of the hood, revealing no trace of a face or mortal identity.
"Impossible," she whispered, the words a fragile thread of disbelief woven with an unwavering defiance, her voice carrying the weight of her shattered expectations.
The others, witnessing his motionless stance, summoned their last vestiges of strength, hands firmly grasping their swords, poised for a final stand. But before their weapons could even leave their grip, Tess's sword was ruthlessly wrenched from her desperate grasp, executing a breathtaking spin in the air before crashing into the unyielding ground, a stark symbol of their dwindling hope and the overwhelming power of their relentless adversary.
Hopelessness clouded her expression as she instinctively raised her hands before her face, bracing for the impending assault on her defenseless body. Only one hand moved, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the adversary's feet disappear from her line of sight. With disbelief etched across her features, she dared to look up.
Why did he leave when he could have finished her? The motives of this mysterious figure eluded her, shrouded in a veil of uncertainty. Her searching eyes froze, fixing upon the sight of Zino standing alongside the adversary.
Channeling her speed to make fast attacks with her sword, yet, her every attack was effortlessly deflected by the adversary's single hand, while the other remained firmly clasped around the fragment.
Enough was enough. A fire ignited within Tess, her teeth grinding together as she summoned yet another sword, determination etched upon her face. With a single step forward, doubt crept into her mind, threatening to unravel her resolve.
Her attacking the adversary in that state? Her gaze darted around, searching for her allies amidst the chaos. Lanse struggled to rise, his body wracked with pain. Szedra knelt, surrendering to her own exhaustion, her hair obscuring her defeated expression. Zack had vanished from sight.
Dammit! It has to be her. If she possessed even a fraction of the stealth that Zack had often boasted about, she could attempt to slip behind the adversary unnoticed. Even if he spotted her, it would provide a distraction, an opportunity for Zino to strike.
Her thoughts bolstered her wavering confidence as she forced herself into a sprint towards her nemesis. Biting down on her lower lip to suppress the searing pain radiating from her right shoulder, she vowed to push through. Just as she raised her sword, poised to cleave through his back, a strange and dangerous notion sprang into her head.
In her split-second sprint, the unspeakable trickled into her thoughts. What if she mutated into a Sybervirian right then and there? Would her mutated form be enough to vanquish this abomination? The allure of a bloody revenge and the intensity of her pain made the prospect of transforming almost enticing. But she quickly realized the horrific price she would pay – her own life.
"No!" she inwardly exclaimed, vehemently rejecting the self-destructive path. A surge of newfound anger coursed through her, lending strength to her left hand as she delivered the mightiest swing she had ever mustered. She refused to die; she was going to murder that freak.
Yet, her sword abruptly halted upon contact with his back. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the blade that could slice through solid metal with ease, unable to leave even a mark on his flesh.
Was he wearing some form of impenetrable armor beneath his garments, shielding him from harm? The revelation sent a chill down her spine, a disturbing revelation that unveiled the true depths of his power.
Realization struck her like a thunderbolt, understanding how he effortlessly blocked Zino's sword strikes with a single arm. Perhaps she hadn't fully thought through her plan, but it was too late now.
Those fleeting thoughts raced through her mind in an instant as she tightened her grip on the hilt, readying herself for another attack. Maybe another swing would break through. But when she pulled on the handle, expecting it to yield to her command, a shock of pain shot through her heart when it didn't.
The sound of Zino's anguished scream sent a shiver down Tess's spine, freezing her in place. She heard the sickening thud as Zino collided with the unforgiving ground, her body rolling over the jagged pebbles.
At that moment, Tess knew that the adversary would now turn his attention to her. And as black flames erupted from the point where her sword touched his back, she released her grip on the handle, instinctively taking a step back.
The fire began to devour the metal blade she once wielded, melting it away, leaving her mouth agape in shock. Her body jerked involuntarily, a primal fear gripping her as a tar-black hand emerged from his back, clenching the edge of the sword.
What the hell was that? Her lips barely managed to form words, trembling with a mix of disbelief and horror. She squinted her eyes, questioning the reality before her. Maybe it was one of those weird things she saw now and then.
The hand continued to emerge, stretching further from the adversary's back as Tess distanced herself by a couple of feet. The pain from her shoulder flew from her mind as all sensation left her body from the terrifying sight.
Cracks spread along the blade, like a web of impending doom, before the metal base shattered into countless pieces, devoid of blood. Something inside Tess shattered too, her composure crumbling in the face of such otherworldly power.
The mysterious hand retracted into his back, vanishing from sight. The other members of her group, aside from Zino, managed to rise to their feet, witnessing the chilling display. They watched in disbelief as he vanished from in front of Tess, only to reappear beside her in the blink of an eye.
With both hands folded behind his back, he effortlessly swept his leg, striking Tess's with precision, causing her to crash forward onto the unforgiving ground. Her nose bore the brunt of the impact, blood flowing freely as small pebbles adhered to her injured face.
The torn muscles surrounding her shoulder added another layer of torment to her already excruciating ordeal. Every movement was met with a fiery protest, as if invisible claws were tearing and rending her flesh with each passing second. Would she be able to use that arm again? Someone had to pay!
Struggling to lift her head, she extended her one good arm, reaching for the sword lying flat on the ground before her. But before her fingers could grasp it, his thick black boot swiftly kicked it away, forcing her to flinch.
Raising his long sword, its lethal tip aimed directly at Tess's exposed back, he seemed poised to strike. Lanse, Szedra, and Zack couldn't fathom his intentions. Why would an adversary seek to kill them?
It was evident that they had failed whatever test or challenge lay before them. Were they expected to admit their defeat? The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, the tension building as they awaited his next move.
"We surrender!" Szedra's desperate cry echoed through the chaos, tears streaming down her yellow face.
But the adversary showed no mercy, his hand poised to deliver a fatal blow to Tess's defenseless back. In a split second, Zack and Lanse summoned their swords, sending them hurtling towards the hooded figure's head.
With lightning reflexes, the adversary swatted one sword aside with his bare hand, the clash of metal reverberating through the air. Yet, instead of snapping Tess's spine, his own sword pierced her side, eliciting a blood-curdling scream of agony. In a cruel twist, he swiftly withdrew the blade.
In the same second Tess gasped for breath, he swung the sword with blinding speed, striking the other airborne weapon. It soared back in the opposite direction, narrowly missing Zack as it tore through the air, shattering a towering tree in a thunderous explosion of splintered wood.
Zino, finally rising to her feet, cradled her injured shoulder, wincing in pain. But before she could even utter a scream, the adversary materialized beside her, snatching her upside down by the ankle with a vice-like grip, hurtling her towards Zack. The collision sent them both crashing to the ground, their bodies tumbling in a violent heap.
In an instant, the dark figure vanished once more, reappearing to swat away Lanse's sword with contemptuous ease. A powerful kick to Lanse's side sent him rolling helplessly across the ground, his body skidding several feet before coming to a rest.
Szedra, wide-eyed and helpless, watched in horror as her comrades suffered grievous injuries within the blink of an eye. As the towering figure loomed before her, a fleeting vision flashed in her mind—a glimpse of a different place, a golden-glowing rock held tightly in the adversary's hand.
The ground was strewn with lifeless bodies, clad in mantles of different colors. Decapitated heads with vivid, unnatural hair colors stood as macabre testaments to the carnage that had unfolded. The horrifying imagery seared itself into Szedra's consciousness, a grim reminder of the immense danger they faced.
Szedra's vision ceased as the adversary's hand coiled around her neck, effortlessly lifting her body from the ground. Panic surged through her veins, for she knew in her core that this foe was no ordinary opponent sent by Sensei. No, this was something far more sinister—and it was going to kill them.
The searing pain that coursed through Tess's battered form as she lay helpless on the unforgiving ground only fueled her determination. She had never willingly chosen to be thrust into that nightmarish ordeal. That was not what she had signed up for, nor was it the path she had willingly embarked upon.
A haunting chorus of voices, resounding in perfect harmony, reverberated in her mind, their words a chilling reminder of the grim reality they faced. "This is what you want. Come and get it."
The fragment—the elusive prize they had been relentlessly pursuing was what she was going to die for? In a flash of clarity, Tess's thoughts raced, piecing together the fragments of truth hidden within the labyrinth of deception.
The facade of camaraderie forged over three weeks shattered, revealing a far more insidious plot. The training, Sensei's guidance, and the enigmatic Professor—mere pawns in a grand scheme. She and the recruits had all been exploited, manipulated for the perverse entertainment of corrupt Mid-Sentry officials.
The notion of being chosen as guardians of the planet, defenders of justice, crumbled beneath the weight of harsh reality. It was a lie, a fabricated narrative to conceal the true nature of their existence.
No, what they were caught in the midst of was far deadlier—run by corrupt Mid-Sentry officials. It was a mass slaughter reality show. The Dark web kind where they abducted Syb-victims and killed them. Most knew them as live games.