The message spurred him into action. Knowing time was limited, he moved swiftly.
The battleground spanned roughly three hundred square meters, giving him just enough space to plan an aggressive approach.
With a quick motion, he secured his gun to his back and began moving toward the area where his opponent was located.
Reaching the edge of the shattered skyscraper, Desmond took a steadying breath, feeling the adrenaline build. Without hesitation, he leaped from the ledge, free-falling down the side of the ruined structure.
The wind tore past him, buffeting his body as he descended, and he couldn't help but deactivate his helmet, feeling the rush of cold air whip across his face.
His eyes sparkled with excitement, savoring the thrill of this controlled fall.
He watched as the building's battered windows flew past him in a blur of broken glass and twisted metal.
Just twenty meters from the ground, he summoned a pair of katanas, feeling the reassuring weight of the blades in his hands.
Here goes nothing, he thought, his pulse quickening as he reactivated his helmet, mobilizing its targeting system.
The display flickered to life, scanning the terrain below and identifying several potential footholds along the fractured wall.
He fixed his gaze on a spot of reinforced concrete, marked as one of the most durable points he could land on, and prepared to strike.
With precise control, he drove the katanas into the structure, feeling the sharp blades bite into the concrete.
The impact was intense, even jolting his arms, but Desmond wasn't done.
As his descent slowed, he released his left-hand grip, twisting his body mid-air in a controlled spin to prevent the force from wrenching his elbows out of joint.
Balancing on the hilt of his embedded katanas, He let out a shaky breath, both exhilarated and slightly stunned by the maneuver.
Taking a second to compose himself, Desmond took a moment to assess the drop remaining below him.
The ground was still a dizzying distance down, and he weighed the impact risk against his health points, calculating the effect it might have on his armor's integrity.
He recalled the defense stats and durability of the One-Star Jem Armor, knowing it could absorb a considerable hit.
After a moment's thought, he pushed aside his hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he launched himself from his katanas, freefalling the last few meters with confidence.
He hit the ground in a solid stance, his armor absorbing the impact as he landed smoothly, standing tall and composed.
Without missing a beat, Desmond drew his gun, examining the design with care. He traced its every line and detail in his mind, committing it to memory.
Knowing that any weapon he understood could be conjured at will gave him a powerful advantage—each firearm, blade, and explosive was just a thought away as long as he knew its purpose and design.
The challenge now was deciding what might prove most effective against Tidal Wave's elusive skill set.
Satisfied, he loaded a magazine with ease, feeling the familiar click and slide as each bullet chambered.
Fully prepped, Desmond turned his focus back to the battlefield, his senses sharpening, ready for whatever came next.
As he navigated the abandoned city streets, he kept his senses heightened, scanning every angle.
He kept close to the buildings, using the cracked walls and rubble as cover while keeping a wary lookout. Every step forward felt like treading through enemy territory, the eerie silence broken only by the faint hum of virtual energy around him.
Reaching the center of the battle zone, he was caught off-guard as a hail of red laser bullets erupted behind him, narrowly missing the core of his armor.
The sharp, sizzling sound of laser-beams seared through the air, and he barely had a second to react. His heart pounded as he dashed forward, adrenaline kicking in as he made a split-second decision.
With a powerful leap, he dove through the nearest window, shattering the remaining glass as he crashed into the building.
Shards flew around him, and he hit the ground rolling, quickly pressing himself against the wall to regain his bearings. He could feel the faint heat radiating from his back, where the laser-beams had hit his armor.
That was way too close, he thought, clenching his fists to steady himself. His mind raced as he considered his next move. He needed to reclaim the thirty health points he'd lost—one way or another.
Peering out from behind a cracked wall, he scanned the street for signs of his opponent.
Tidal Wave was clearly nearby, using a weapon with rapid fire—something powerful, but requiring precision.
Not as rapid as Kiss of Death or Zenith… Rainfall it is, he thought, assessing his options and formulating a new strategy.
Remembering the structure of his opponent's shots, he could tell they were likely coming from an elevated position.
Desmond stretched his left hand out through the broken window, testing his theory.
He barely had a second before a bullet slammed into it, forcing him to pull his arm back instantly. A quick glance confirmed his suspicion—no major damage.
Just as I thought. His affinity with Celestial Fluid is at level one, he noted, mentally calculating. That gives him about fifty percent of a One-Star Jem Armor's Attack and sixty percent of its Defense. If I time this right, I can push through his barrier.
Taking a steady breath, he let the tension in his muscles dissipate, his focus sharpening. He readied his gun, Kiss of Death, in his hands, preparing for a daring maneuver.
In one fluid motion, he hurled himself backward through the shattered window.
His body twisted mid-air, his back angled toward the ground below and his gun trained directly on the building opposite, where Tidal Wave's shots had come from.
He kept his gaze locked through his helmet's targeting system, which zeroed in on his opponent almost instantly.
In his peripheral view, he saw Tidal Wave—perched on the edge of a half-collapsed structure, his assault rifle, Rainfall, trained on Desmond.
Tidal Wave's face was hidden behind a red helmet, but his action gave out his intentions. Die, Dreamscape.
Red laser beams burst from Rainfall, streaking through the air like molten streaks of fire, their casing-sized bolts crackling with energy as they closed the distance.
Desmond locked onto Tidal Wave, his focus unrelenting as he pulled the trigger of Kiss of Death.
A flurry of laser beams erupted from his weapon, racing toward Tidal Wave's face and neck with pinpoint precision.