'BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!'
A knuckled fist came rocketing one after the other only to be met in orbit by another fist drawing blood from the scraping of skin and bone. Punches so shrewd in their detection by normal sight that they burst into bright sparks as the auras of these two Evolved beasts collided. Tethers from their auras combined, assaulting one another, splintering around them while levitating loose wreckage of ashen corpses into a halo surrounding their figures.
Monumental roars echoed out from the bottom of their lungs. Faces burning bright with the redness of kings vying for supremacy, the two men stamped their feet to the dirt eviscerating the shoes that journeyed with. The spit, that flung itself out, came at such high speeds that the bark to the trees shattered, laying them to crash and rub against their brethren.
The shortest of the creatures taken to this clash recounted the events that preceded such occurrence. This death-defying act seeking to rest the other in eternal dirt. His other basked in a growing cloud of boiling steam that eviscerated the skin, melting pockets from the bone exposing the durable skeleton beneath their forms.
Miss Bubbles had taken a short reprieve to scout the park before her and Gan set out to control the chaos; however, the moment of her departure brought forth a voyeur companion. One who had been watching the couple as they dashed for the shade of the park, a Villain appeared sensing the presence of another like himself. Clad in restrictive chains pulled taught over his biceps, pectorals, abdominals, and thighs, his frame could wrestle into submission a grizzly bear. Concrete cuffs with metal tubes stuck to his wrists along with a mask in the shape of a crow's beak that regulated his breathing.
Gan was left on the outskirts of the park with several options for escape. He could go deeper to the park to find Miss Bubbles, flee to the shadows of the alley just behind him, or even cause a ruckus blasting the walls of an office building then hide in the wreckage. But before he could process the correct avenue to survival; he heard the cry of a woman not far off. Just beyond a chain linked fence, to his left, lay in the rubble of a restaurant a trapped woman and her unconscious date. Stricken streaks of first blotted their faces as harsh wails echoed from her lips in a plea for aid.
The Villain noticed how the boy's eyes darted between him and the injured, then to the alley. The man raised his middle finger, which was the width as well as the length of a pickle, at the couple. Although the man did not speak a word, Gan understood the morbid implication. "Leave, and they will take your place." Without a choice, Gan committed to an option that was never present. Channeling the reserves of his aura, a resting heat released inside his chest. This heat sailed along his blood's tides infecting each cell in its journey as the furnace lit his brain's synapses. The process was inexplicably painful as the hypertrophy enlarged his muscle mass to nearly the same size as the man. Gan's bones creaked as they expanded, becoming much denser while the blood in his body produced ever more cells to sate the thirst of his rampaging ability. All while his body transformed into the opponent this Villain required, the boy relinquished his own horrifying yell which roused the remaining wildlife from their burrows. Each cracking joint and elongating bone brought a jolt of incredible ache to Gan's brain. To compare against this mountain of a man he too had to transcend his limits. His whole body had to become grander to sustain a battle. Even if it cost him his mind, his sanity, he had to win this for he wouldn't allow this couple to die a dog's death.
'They are innocent. These Villains will pay. I will stop him, I will end this, I will KILL HIM! Kage, I'm going to prove myself to you, brother.'
The transformation complete, the hulking beasts glared at the other. They now stood on almost equal footing with Gan slightly shorter by a few inches. A steam of breath exhaled from the boy's nostrils while a cackling laugh of joy, muffled by the Villain's mask, brought harrowing tales. Then, with the crack of thunder they launched into the other; teeth gritted and devilish growls aching their cores.
Gan slipped to the right of the man, startling him at the speed the boy could travel, which exposed the Villain's lower back. He pumped his right fist, taking aim behind the ribs to crush the monster's kidney in a single blow. However, a hissing blast blew from Gan's nose as his fist made contact with an equally hard object. An object hard enough to flinch Gan out of his intensity and draw a sickly color from his knuckles.
It was none other than the man's fist.
In a split second, faster than a bullet being launched from a gun's barrel, the Villain dropped his fist to block Gan's attack. For anyone else this would have proven ineffective, but from a man who could be described in the same vein as a mountain, it took little effort.
From overhead came the other hand but balled into a fist. Due to Gan's failed strike, he was sure that the man would grab for his throat and strangle him to death on the spot, but his opponent wanted more from this experience. Gan could barely register the fist's speed as his nerves were a jumbled mess due to his punch's recoil bouncing within the bones of his arm. Then there was the glimpse he got from the man's face. Although a mask covered most of it, he saw the wrinkles around the eyes demonstrating a fearsome smile. Compiled together, Gan was thrown into the midst of a cauldron brimming with poisonous phlegm.
In the cauldron, a bubbling sea textured with ink stirred him around and around shredding his skin away to expose his innards. Through a looking glass all he saw was a plain white wall. The palms of his hands force into it with no avail remaining solid and unable to crack through its surface. The sweat, the tears, the blood, and the sins leak off him into the white canvas, staining it into the shape of his shadow. Merely a smudge on what was established.
If what he had amounted to only left this speck of recognition, then what is he to do before such glaring odds? Odds that now take the very real apparition of the brute before him. A cold look developed from an avalanche of the dead and ripped by this man's very hands.
There was no training; there was no preparation in the world one could take when faced by the realization of Death knocking on their door. Death comes to serve its purpose and only two avenues exist for those that encounter said being by a chance encounter. A chance on their part but Death simply sought them out early, wanting their soul to satiate the pains of hunger. One will run with all their might dancing to the whim of Death's cackle with their soul drawn out from their lungs and body shriveled up, blown by the breeze no more than as dust. Taking this choice may warrant a second or two longer of reprieve, possibly enough to repent and be sent to heaven, or not long enough to regret all the sins weighing that soul from escape.
Or the slimmest of chances may occur. Brought by God's swift guidance or the happenstance of luck, this person could fight Death face to face and blow for blow.
Gan saw this fist bearing down on him, unable to dodge and run he mustered fight with all he could conjure. The powerful punch landed propelling air currents slicing up the concrete sidewalk as well as showering the two of them with an array of kicked up particles. Violet and dead were what was expected of Gan's face. Caved in by the Villain's unstoppable attack that decimated all in its way. The man had never suffered in a fight built on power, raw destructive mayhem. A worry for the nation at large due to his actions in hunting the best of the best, thus demonstrating his superiority. From the planes of Las Vegas to the frozen tundra of New York he did not falter. So, this child would be smashed like a bug, oozing for a few consecutive hits more to seal the deal in a flurry of gore.
Yet, pain ran from his knuckles to the man's brain. The smoke had settled and standing in the way of this killer's path was a fist of equal strength. For the first time, he had suffered a fatal error. His unblockable, inescapable, despairing attack had been rendered ineffective while he experienced the blowback wreaking havoc in his body.
An indentation of a knuckle warped into the surface of Gan's forehead oozing a steady stream of wounded pride. Despite having stopped the path of the man's punch, the wind pressure was so great that a fraction of the force from his blow was able to penetrate Gan's defenses. Quickly he scampered just out of his attacker's reach; prepared for the response. Meanwhile, the man was attempting to piece together this puzzle he had stumbled across. The why, when and how that such an opponent could appear like no other. He assessed the power he had put into that punch, and he was reassured that it was no fault of his own.
The chosen day had come.
Here and now would decide the prophecy foretold to him long since the conception of the Black Queen rising to stardom.
The man bowed with his upper half acknowledging Gan as his new beginning. The test in which he would break through this rut, advancing to a position unlike any other, or suffer the dreaded consequences of impediment.
Stunned, Gan did not react, instead staying absolutely still, awaiting further provocation. Where one saw a bump to assert over, Gan was greeted by a colossal terror that would rock his nightmares.
A blackout had rolled over the city leaving only fires to illuminate the world from the deep shadows of skyscrapers and damp alleys. Even engrossed in this battle, Gan still made note to listen out to the calls for help and wails of approaching doom that came from the park then beyond. An eye set on the bowing barrel of muscle while the other took caution of the group still trapped, desperately clawing for a path to safety.
*Attention divided leads to sensations divided which leads to death. Stray for a second and I will have your head.* The Villain beckoned Gan into his embrace. He would not have a worthy opponent struggling by the gasping failures of the weak. Weak which will perish all the same.
Gan clenched his hand wheezing through the pain of cracked joints and shredded skin. If he continued this way of power against power, he would lose. The Villain had trained decades for this moment, stomped on possibly hundreds to rise to the occasion, and experienced feats unlike many Heroes. Yet, it is clear that the only way he had survived was through this strength. Strength with little skill, something Gan could work with for if his opponent possessed only intuition partnered by power, then Gan possessed mild power complimented by his array of technical knowledge. He would overwhelm this Villain with the sheer style and numerous pathways for attacks that he could amass.
Yet, those thoughts ran for shelter when the Monster rose, staring resolutely into Gan. All his tricks were suddenly exposed as the Villain's glare stole away all of his intelligence.
FATE… Fate stood casting all sensibility to the abyss. A fate that he would dare match and tangle with to prove a struggler's purpose on this rock we all refer to as Earth.
Thus, Gan inhaled a breath screaming at FATE, "I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD!"
The Villain smirked.