The air crackled with energy as the shots made contact, forcing his opponent into a desperate scramble for cover.
Desmond's own armor shuddered violently as Tidal Wave's counterfire slammed into him, the impact sending him crashing to the ground.
Keep moving! Grimacing, he rolled to the side and sprang back to his feet, adrenaline fueling his every move.
Without missing a beat, he darted toward the building sheltering Tidal Wave, weaving through the chaos of crumbling debris and shattered structures.
Inside his makeshift stronghold, Tidal Wave was unraveling.
"Damn!" he hissed, slamming a fist against the wall beside him. His breathing was erratic, his hands trembling as he clutched Rainfall.
"Who the hell is this guy?! And how is his attack so powerful?!"
The name Dreamscape echoed in his mind like a warning, each passing moment amplifying his dread.
Despite Dreamscape's awkward position, his shots had been eerily accurate, every beam landing perilously on vital areas.
How can he hit like this without a good balance? Tidal Wave thought, his mind racing as he pressed his back against the wall.
A quick glance at his HUD told him everything he didn't want to see: his health points were plummeting.
Less than sixty left, he realized, his stomach sinking.
His eyes darted to the door on his left, but he hesitated. He's not going to take the bait that easily. He must be hiding nearby, waiting to ambush me.
Taking a steadying breath, Tidal Wave rose silently to his feet, his movements calculated and precise, giving off no audible trace of his position.
He adjusted his grip on Rainfall and turned his attention to the window on the right.
If he could flank Dreamscape and repeat his opening strategy, he might regain control of the match.
His mind whirred with possibilities as he inched closer to the window, determined to turn the tide in his favor.
Desmond darted through the maze of crumbling buildings, weaving his way toward Tidal Wave's last known position.
His boots pounded against the cracked pavement as he kept his gun pointed toward the ground.
The path was tight, littered with debris, and his senses remained heightened, every nerve on edge.
His goal was clear: cut off Tidal Wave by circling to the right and intercepting him before he could set up another ambush.
As he approached a corner, ready to make his move, something caught his eye—a faint glimmer of red light reflecting off the shattered glass nearby.
Before he could react, a glowing red muzzle emerged from the shadows, hovering mere inches from his face.
The weapon hummed with an ominous energy, and an unfamiliar voice followed, cold and mocking.
"Your footsteps make a lot of noise, Dreamscape."
The world seemed to slow as eerie, red light consumed Desmond's view, beams of concentrated energy slamming into his helmet.
His armor held, but the searing pain shot through his nerves, threatening to overwhelm him.
Desmond froze for an instant, his heart hammering against his ribcage as every instinct screamed at him to act.
The primal fear of death clawed at his mind, but he forced it down, refusing to let it control him.
And pain was a distraction he couldn't afford—not now.
With a surge of determination, he reacted.
Gritting his teeth, his left hand swung upward in a sharp arc toward Tidal Wave's right temple.
In the same instant, his gift ignited—a katana materialized mid-swing, its blade shimmering with lethal clarity.
The strike was precise and brutal.
The katana sliced through the air, its edge tearing through the side of Tidal Wave's Jem Helmet, shattering its reinforced plating as if it were paper.
The blow didn't stop there.
The blade continued its arc, carving into Tidal Wave's skull and tearing through the soft tissue of his brain.
Tidal Wave's body froze, his grip on Rainfall faltering as the weapon fell from his hands.
His visor cracked, revealing a flicker of confusion in his eyes.
"How…?"
His voice was barely a whisper, the single word trailing off as his health points—fifty-seven in total—plummeted to zero in an instant.
The virtual battlefield went eerily silent as Tidal Wave's body disintegrated into light particles, fading into nothingness.
Desmond stood there for a moment, his chest heaving from the effort and adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"It's really a two-star level gift," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the katana in his hand.
The sheer ease with which it had sliced through the sixty-percent-powered One-Star Jem Armor still left him in awe, a testament to the raw potential of his ability.
As the blade began to dissolve, shimmering into nothingness, he steadied himself, letting the echoes of his victory wash over him like a calming tide.
He glanced at his HUD, where the system flashed:
(Enemy Eliminated: +100 League Points)
(Stone League: 100/700)
With the ruined city erased, Desmond found himself standing in the familiar white, enclosed space, a stark contrast to the chaos of the simulated battlefield.
His pulse began to settle as the adrenaline wore off, and his combat attire dissolved, replaced by his white T-shirt and blue shorts.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of Kiss of Death fade away. The silence in the room was soothing, yet his mind was far from calm.
Desmond's thoughts churned, replaying the battle against Tidal Wave like a puzzle he couldn't put down.
"He heard me coming, yet I didn't hear him," he muttered aloud. His brows furrowed, his gaze fixed on the featureless walls.
He began pacing slowly, the sound of his bare feet tapping against the floor a rhythmic accompaniment to his thoughts.
"The best explanation would be that he was waiting at that position, but for someone that good at sneak attacks, he wouldn't just sit still like a sniper."
He paused, rubbing his chin. "That leaves only one guess—his gift."
The more he considered it, the more sense it made. His opponent's uncanny ability to ambush him without detection wasn't skill alone. There had to be something more.
"Seeing that he wasn't flying, then it must either be a gift that gives him perfect control of his feet, or a gift that can erase the sound of his steps," he reasoned.
[The second one is the most likely guess] said a calm, measured voice inside his mind.
Desmond froze for a moment, surprised.
Whoa, I totally forgot about you, he replied silently, recognizing the familiar tone of Kenny, his AIA companion.
Can you interfere in the setup of this simulation? He asked, his curiosity piqued.
[Only to assist you] Kenny responded, the tone even and precise. [Other than that, I can't overstep my boundaries]