After witnessing the apparent annihilation of Az, Journ, satisfied, began to call back his javelin and turned to depart from the battlefield. As he took his first step, leaving behind the remnants of Az's hammer amid the smoke and debris, a voice sliced through the air, freezing Journ in his tracks.
"Leaving so soon?"
The words, accompanied by a tone that resonated with confidence, left no room for doubt. Journ slowly turned back, and to his bewilderment, he beheld Az—naked, yet defiant—holding his hammer. The confusion etched across Journ's face mirrored the disbelief of witnessing Az, seemingly restored and ready for another round.
"How..." Journ began, grappling with the unexpected sight of Az, alive and kicking, defying the very outcome that had seemed inevitable.
Az found himself recounting the wild stunt he pulled just before the impact—slicing off a part of himself and stuffing it into the hammer reloading mechanism.
Az relied on the speed of his thrown hammer to accelerate near the energy emitted from the charged javelin, reducing the damage the hammer sustained from the ensuing explosion.
With a shiver and a chuckle, he begged Journ, "Please, don't make me remember that crazy move again..."
Az had gambled on his hammer's resilience during their intense battle, banking on its durability to save him in the direst moment.
"You, just die already...!!!" Journ couldn't contain his anger anymore. He dashed toward Az, unleashing a surge of power, disregarding the risk that Az might turn it against him.
Bracing for impact, Az anticipated Journ attacking from the front, assuming a defensive stance. But, to his surprise, as Journ reached him, the alien captain swiftly changed direction, maneuvering behind Az, and swung his spear, charged with electric energy.
Caught off guard by the unexpected move, Az was sent flying across the room. Despite the initial shock, Az regained his composure and found his footing. Journ, relentless, continued his assault, using his speed to deceive Az about the direction of his attacks.
However, Az, learning from the previous encounter, anticipated Journ's tactics. This time, he managed to read Journ's movements and, with his charged weapon, countered the captain's strike with calculated precision and sent the alien captain flying to the other side of the room.
As Journ regained his footing, he saw Az picking up another hammer, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know what's better than one," Az teased, taking a stance. "Two hammers!" With swift precision, he employed his older hammer as a blaster, propelling himself with electrical charges toward Journ, while the other hammered the ground to reload.
The room crackled with energy as Az closed the gap between them, the hammers humming with power. Journ braced himself, realizing Az's strategy of dual-wielding hammers would make this round of their battle even more intense.
In the heart of their intense clash, Az's laughter echoed through the battlefield. His recent 'near-death' experience seemed to have stirred something wild within him, adrenaline coursing through his veins like a torrential storm.
With the cooldown reset from his previous death, Az's Technomage Skill allowed him to conjure another hammer, and this revelation seemed to elevate his excitement to new heights.
Journ, caught off guard by Az's maniacal laughter and sudden surge of energy, anticipated Az's next move. He expected an attack from the front, but Az's strategy took an unpredictable turn.
With a swift blast from his second hammer, Az altered its trajectory, then swung his primary hammer from Journ's back—a move that mirrored Journ's earlier attack.
The hammer's arc was a testament to Az's adaptability. The impact wasn't just physical; it was a strategic play, a mental game that left Journ momentarily stunned.
Az's mimicked strike served as a clear message to Journ, almost a taunt in itself. It was a deliberate emulation, a subtle challenge indicating that Az was capable of wielding Journ's tactics against him.
The mimicry seemed to tease Journ, questioning his own mastery by reflecting his methods right back at him. It was as if Az was saying, "Is that the best you can do."
This bold display was more than just a move in their battle—it was Az's way of asserting his newfound adaptability and cunning.
It pushed Journ to reconsider his assumptions about Az's fighting prowess and adaptability. The taunt lingered in the air, a provocation that spoke volumes without uttering a word.
The alien captain, Journ, was no stranger to battle. Throughout his career, he had faced adversaries that would make most beings shiver in fear.
Yet, as he stood face to face with Az, an unsettling sensation began to stir within him. It wasn't the fear of imminent defeat or injury; it was a much deeper, more primal fear—the kind that crawled beneath one's skin and lingered in the shadows of the mind.
This was a feeling he hadn't experienced in ages. It dredged up memories from the past, back to the time before he held the rank of an alien captain. Back when he was just a soldier, fueled by a hunger for power, and success, his only fear was the inferiority to the upper-ranked being.
As the day of the invasion started, he voluntarily annihilated human army bases with ruthless efficiency looking for excitement. He remembered seeing despair etched on the faces of those he'd vanquished, a grim satisfaction in those moments.
But now, as he faced Az, a chilling sense of dread crept into his consciousness. The maniacal laughter, the unrelenting determination, and the unforeseen adaptability of his adversary sent shivers down Journ's spine.
He realized he wasn't merely facing a foe; he was confronting something beyond comprehension—a relentless force that mirrored the ferocity of a devil.
The contrast between his past triumphs and the present unease was palpable. Journ's confidence wavered as he grappled with this unfamiliar emotion, a feeling of dread that clouded his judgment and overshadowed his battle-hardened spirit.
For the first time in a long while, Journ felt the cold fingers of despair clutching at his resolve, all because of the relentless, unpredictable force that was Az.
As Journ attempted to step back, his heart pounding, he knew he had to get out of there. Yet, before he could regain his footing or plan his escape, Az's voice pierced through the charged air.
"Not so fast," Az's voice rang out with an almost playful yet determined tone. "I'm not letting you run away now, am I?"
Sensing the tide turning against him, Journ, attempted to create distance between himself and Az, hoping to formulate a new strategy or, perhaps, find a moment of respite in the turmoil.
Az's laughter echoed through the chaos. Journ's attempts to elude him became a desperate dance, a futile effort to outmaneuver a force that seemed more devilish with every passing moment.
The alien captain's hopes of finding sanctuary from the relentless pursuit shattered as Az, with an air of insanity, continued his relentless advance, a cat-and-mouse game. There was no solace in the distance, no respite from the pressing confrontation.
With every attempt to evade, Az's presence seemed to grow stronger, a relentless shadow haunting Journ's every move.
The battlefield became a labyrinth of shattered debris and remnants of their clash, each step Journ took only amplifying the realization that he was now the one being hunted. The once proud and calculated captain found himself driven to the edge, a prisoner of his own despair.
In a desperate bid to evade Az's relentless pursuit, Journ's eyes fixated on the shattered remnants of the rooftop, the only way out from Az's maniacal chase. With resolve hardening in his heart, he steadied himself for the leap, gathering all the power within him to propel himself skyward.
Meanwhile, Az, fueled by adrenaline, prepared for the final assault. As Journ positioned himself for the jump, Az, with one hammer in hand, anticipated the alien captain's maneuver with an explosive blast. He propelled himself toward Journ, his hammer poised to deliver a crushing blow upon Journ's landing spot.
In an instant, Journ activated his power, launching himself skyward with every ounce of energy he could muster. Az's hammer came crashing down, the force intended to crush Journ in a single strike, but Journ's escape was successful. The impact point was empty, the alien captain soaring skyward to escape Az's relentless pursuit.
As Journ flew higher and higher, his initial excitement dwindled into a bitter acknowledgment of defeat. Watching Az remain on the ground, a formidable force unfazed by the failed attempt, Journ couldn't help but feel the pang of humiliation as he abandoned the battlefield. With his tail tucked between his legs, Journ retreated, leaving Az behind.
As Az observed the alien captain increasing the distance between them, he noticed Journ coming to a sudden halt mid-air. Even from a distance, Az recognized the distinct stance—the telltale preparation to unleash a cataclysmic assault, this time directed at the base itself.
From Journ's perspective, allowing someone like Az to survive could pose an unbearable threat to the survival of his species in the ongoing invasion. He couldn't fathom the extent to which Az might evolve into an even more formidable adversary in the future.