Chereads / ashes of revenge / Chapter 6 - Brian

Chapter 6 - Brian

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Nelson charged at Chris, fists raised, intent on landing a powerful punch. But Chris was quicker. With lightning reflexes, he caught Nelson's wrist mid-swing, twisting his arm and flinging him away. In one fluid motion, Nelson executed a backflip, his body spinning gracefully in the air. He landed lightly on his feet, immediately drawing a knife from his belt, its blade gleaming coldly in the dim light.

Chris's eyes narrowed, sensing something wasn't right. His posture shifted, ready for whatever Nelson would throw at him next. "You're persistent, I'll give you that," Chris muttered, his voice low but controlled. "But you'll need more than a knife to take me down."

Nelson wasn't deterred. He surged forward again, knife held high. As he swung the blade, Chris nimbly dodged, jumping into the air. In that split second, a clone of Chris appeared behind him, mirroring his every movement. Nelson collided with the clone, confusion momentarily clouding his judgment. But as his hand grazed the real Chris, the contact was made.

Chris landed softly on his feet, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well done, Nelson," he said, his tone oddly approving. "Now you can go back to Earth… but there's a catch. You'll be reincarnated as someone else. Someone named Brian."

Nelson's heart skipped a beat. "Wait—what? Who is Brian? Can't I just be reincarnated as someone else? Anyone else?"

Chris flicked his fingers dismissively, the movement casual yet final. "Too late," he said coldly. "The deal is done."

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Nelson awoke with a sudden jolt, disoriented. He found himself lying in a plush bed, the soft sheets unfamiliar beneath him. His mind was foggy as he sat up and looked around. The room was lavish, a stark contrast to the chaos of the battle he had just been through. He rubbed his eyes and stumbled toward a large mirror, his steps slow, unsure.

When he saw his reflection, he stopped cold. A completely different face stared back at him. His hair was darker, shorter, and his expression was that of an average man—a stranger. He was dressed in a simple white singlet and pants. "Hmmm… So this is Brian?" he muttered, inspecting himself. "Well, this could be worse. But if I'm stuck in this body, I can't let anyone catch on. I have to make sure no one realizes what happened."

After a few moments of contemplation, Nelson—now Brian—resolved to track down and eliminate the real Brian. He couldn't afford to leave any loose ends. He had to stay ahead of whatever forces were at play.

A few hours later, Brian—now fully disguised—left the house, determined to find the real Brian and dispose of him. On his way, he spotted a young boy playing near the street.

"Hey, kid," Nelson called out, his voice casual but with an edge of urgency. "Can you tell me where Brian is?"

The boy looked up from his game, eyes narrowing as if he could see straight through Nelson. "You want to kill him, don't you?"

Nelson blinked, taken aback by the bluntness of the response. "Uh... yeah. I need to take care of him. Where can I find him?"

The boy grinned, seemingly unfazed. "Me too. He's about… fifty kilometers away. No, wait—fifty-one."

Nelson laughed, his tension easing slightly. "Fifty-one kilometers, huh? That's a bit far, don't you think?"

The boy nodded, not missing a beat. "That's exactly what I said."

"Are you sure you didn't miscalculate?" Nelson asked, eyebrow raised in mock skepticism.

The boy puffed out his chest, clearly proud of his answer. "Nope! People even call me the human form of a calculator. Or Google. Wait, what's your name?"

Nelson hesitated for a moment before answering. "Uh… Silver Burdened. Nice to meet you."

"Silver Burdened?" The boy cocked his head to one side, clearly confused. "Alright, I guess that works. My name's Johnathan Johnson."

Before Nelson could say another word, the boy—Johnathan—vanished as quickly as he had appeared, disappearing into the crowd without a trace.

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The Encounter

Hours passed. Nelson—or Silver, as he now called himself—tracked Brian to a quiet alley. There, he found Brian unconscious on the ground. But standing above him was Johnathan, fists clenched, staring down at the fallen figure.

Without a word, Johnathan struck, delivering a brutal punch to Brian's stomach. The blow echoed in the silence, and Brian crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain.

"Darwin! I need you!" Johnathan shouted, his voice filled with urgency.

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Silver's Training

Meanwhile, in a secluded training room, Silver Burdened was honing his skills. He wielded four swords—one in each hand, and the other two strapped to his legs. His movements were fluid, graceful, and deadly as he practiced with intense focus. His eyes flashed with concentration, each strike calculated, each movement precise.

Suddenly, he sensed a shift in the air. His instincts told him something was coming—something dangerous. Almost immediately, Brian appeared from nowhere, his aura dark and full of malice. Without hesitation, Silver lunged, swinging one of his swords toward Brian's chest.

Brian dodged the strike with unnatural speed, twisting out of the way. Silver quickly threw another sword at his shoulder. This time, the attack connected, but Brian barely flinched, his expression unchanged.

Silver's eyes hardened. He wasn't about to give up. He hurled another sword at Brian's head, but Brian ducked and avoided it easily. Silver, anticipating the move, quickly swerved and threw another blade—this one aimed for Brian's throat.

The sword struck, but it shattered against an invisible force emanating from Brian's body. Silver's mind raced. He realized that only the two side heads of Brian, which had now grown, were radiating this immense power. The middle head seemed ordinary in comparison.

Brian charged forward again, swinging a powerful punch toward Silver's face. Silver sidestepped, his movements swift as a serpent. "Nice try," he taunted, grinning. "But if you're big, you're slow."

In the blink of an eye, Silver hurled one of his swords into the air, aimed directly at Brian's middle head. Brian was too slow to react, and the sword pierced his skull, sending him crashing to the ground, lifeless.

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A New Threat

Moments passed, but Silver didn't let his guard down. He felt a tingling sensation, an uncanny awareness that something wasn't right. His senses screamed at him to act. He threw one of his remaining swords in a specific direction, but it came back to him immediately. He tried again, but the sword returned as if guided by some unseen force.

Silver's grip tightened around his remaining weapons. "There's something wrong," he muttered, his instincts telling him to move.

Determined to find the source of the disturbance, Silver set off toward the sensation. He soon found himself standing in a shadowy alley, where a blind man stood perfectly still, his posture serene but unnervingly alert.

"You're… Darwin Jill, aren't you?" Silver asked, his voice low, carefully watching the man.

The blind man turned toward him with a calm smile, his senses sharp and precise. "Yes," he said, his voice smooth. "And I've been expecting you"

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The Battle: Silver Burdened vs. Darwin Jill

The alley was silent but for the distant hum of the city. Silver Burdened stood poised, his muscles coiled with tension, his eyes fixed on Darwin Jill, who stood eerily still, as though rooted to the ground. The blind man's face was calm, serene, but there was an air of certainty in the way he carried himself, as though he knew the outcome of this fight before it even began.

"You don't need eyes to see," Silver muttered under his breath. "You just need shadows."

Darwin's lips curled into a faint smile, a quiet acknowledgment of Silver's words. "Correct. Shadows never lie, and mine obey me."

Silver's grip on his sword tightened. He didn't need a lecture—he needed action. With a sudden burst of speed, he surged forward, his legs propelling him like a striking serpent. His sword cut through the air in a deadly arc aimed at Darwin's chest.

But Darwin's expression didn't change. He stood motionless, not even flinching.

In the blink of an eye, Silver's sword struck… but it hit nothing. Darwin's body dissolved into the shadows beneath his feet. The blade passed straight through, cutting nothing but the cold, empty air. Before Silver could process the disappearance, a dark tendril shot out from the ground and wrapped around his ankle, yanking him off balance. His body jerked forward, and his sword was wrenched from his hand.

Silver's instincts kicked in. His free hand shot out, grabbing for his lost blade, but as soon as he did, Darwin's voice came, smooth and chilling.

"I can feel you. Every breath, every movement. You can't hide from me."

Silver's eyes darted around the alley, his mind racing. The shadows themselves were alive, moving, twisting. It was as though they had a mind of their own, seeking him out, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He couldn't even see where the attacks were coming from; the shadows themselves were his enemy.

THWACK! A shadowy tendril shot out and struck Silver in the side, a sharp, searing pain coursing through his ribs. The blow sent him stumbling back, barely keeping his footing. He gritted his teeth, feeling the sting of blood beginning to soak through his clothes.

The battle was unlike anything Silver had ever faced before. His usual speed, strength, and precision meant little against an enemy who could control the very environment. And Darwin was no mere puppet-master—his enhanced senses made him almost omniscient. His hearing, smell, and sixth sense seemed to guide him with a deadly accuracy that Silver could barely comprehend.

Silver grunted, pivoting to face Darwin's next attack. He needed a way to outmaneuver the shadows—if he couldn't see them, then he'd have to feel them.

"Your shadows are powerful, but you don't control everything," Silver muttered, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He was struggling to keep up with the relentless barrage.

Darwin's lips twitched into a smirk. "You think that you can defeat what you don't understand?" His voice was laced with quiet confidence.

Before Silver could respond, Darwin's shadow seemed to ripple beneath his feet. Silver's heart raced as the ground beneath him shifted and cracked. With a swift motion, Darwin's own shadow split into multiple forms—each shadow growing arms, hands, and claws that reached out to attack.

Silver barely had time to react as several shadows lunged at him. One shadow wrapped around his wrist, pulling him into a powerful hold, while another tried to strike at his chest. Silver twisted and kicked, trying to break free, but the shadows were too strong. It was like trying to break free from a grip made of solid darkness.

But Silver wasn't finished. He threw his other leg out, planting it firmly against the wall of the alley and pushing off, using the wall to propel himself backward. His hand shot out, grabbing another sword from his leg sheath mid-air. His entire body flipped, narrowly dodging the attacking shadows.

He landed, crouched low, and immediately surged forward once more. This time, he aimed a quick jab with his sword at Darwin's center, where he thought the blind man might be. It was a calculated risk, but it was his only chance to land a blow.

Just as Silver's sword cut the air, Darwin's shadow separated into dozens of smaller tendrils, each one curling and twisting to deflect the attack. Darwin's body appeared again, standing right behind Silver, his voice in the air, echoing like a whisper in the dark.

"You're not fast enough," Darwin said, his voice low. "You'll never be able to outpace my senses."

Silver's heart thudded painfully in his chest. The realization hit him: Darwin didn't need eyes to read his movements—he was reading the smallest shifts in the air, the faintest tremors in the ground. He could sense Silver's every motion, and Silver was fighting blind, relying only on his own instincts.

Silver's next strike came at a different angle, this time aiming for Darwin's exposed side. He lunged with all his strength, the blade a blur in his hand.

For a moment, Darwin's shadow faltered. A brief crack in the dark shield—just enough for Silver to strike.

THUD!

Silver's fist collided with Darwin's body in a bone-crushing punch. The force behind the punch sent Darwin reeling back, his feet sliding across the ground. For the briefest of moments, Silver felt a surge of triumph. He had landed a blow.

But that feeling was short-lived.

The shadows around Darwin seemed to grow and pulse with even more intensity, as though they were responding to his pain. Darwin's body shifted, his silhouette flickering, and the air seemed to thicken with malice. Darwin's voice came again, cold and deadly: "You've made a mistake."

Suddenly, the shadows that had surrounded Silver seemed to tighten, constricting around his limbs, pulling him back into the dark. He was caught again. Every time he thought he had a moment to breathe, Darwin's shadows struck faster, stronger.

Silver, panting, struggled against the black tendrils wrapping around his body, tightening like chains. He could feel the weight of them pulling at him, draining him of his strength.

Darwin stepped closer, a dark aura radiating from him, his blind eyes blank but filled with terrifying power. "You're strong, Silver Burdened. But you're not ready for me. This is the true power of the shadows."

Silver's thoughts raced. He had to escape. He had to find a way to sever the connection between Darwin and his shadows. But how? Every time he thought he saw a weak spot, the shadows swarmed to protect him.

The pressure was overwhelming.

But then, through the pain, Silver's mind cleared. He remembered something—something about shadows. They only had power if they had something to attach to.

With a roar, Silver twisted his body violently, snapping one of the shadows that held him. He reached into his belt and pulled out a small, sharp dagger, then slashed at the nearest shadow tendril. It recoiled in pain, momentarily freeing Silver's arm.

Freedom.

He fought back with everything he had, each motion an attempt to outwit and escape Darwin's relentless hold. He wasn't done yet.

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The Escape

Silver wasn't sure how much longer he could last. Blood soaked his shirt, his body screamed with exhaustion, but he knew one thing for sure: he needed to get out, and he needed to do it fast.

With a final, desperate surge of strength, he broke free from the shadows, kicking off the ground and sprinting down the alley. He heard Darwin's voice echoing behind him, but he didn't turn around.

"This fight isn't over, Silver," Darwin called out, the shadows swirling around him like a storm. "Not by a long shot."

But Silver Burdened was already gone, vanishing into the darkness of the night. He couldn't win this fight—at least not yet. He had learned what he needed to know: Darwin was an adversary unlike any other. "And next time,i won't go that easy on you