The Titanic groaned beneath their feet, the sound mingling with the steady toll of the iceberg bell. The Sentinel stood amidst the chaos, his jagged, crimson-veined armor radiating malice. His blade, pulsating with dark energy, cast erratic shadows that danced across the fractured deck.
He smirked, tilting his head mockingly at Aiden. "Let's finish this?" he sneered, repeating Aiden's earlier words. "You think a few days on this cursed ship have made you my equal? Pathetic."
Aiden remained silent, his blade of twilight balanced in his hand. The Sentinel's words hung in the air, unanswered. Instead of replying, Aiden shifted his stance, his focus unyielding.
The Sentinel's stance faltered, replaced by a flicker of irritation. "Silent, are we? How noble. Maybe you're just afraid I'll point out how your 'friends' need saving every time they step into battle."
He turned his crimson gaze toward Amara. "You, for example. Darya's shadow. Always weak, always needing rescue. You're barely worth mentioning."
Amara's grip on her weapon tightened, but before she could respond, Captain Smith emerged from the misty shadows, his silhouette framed by the eerie glow of the battlefield. His naval coat was torn, his movements slower, but his composure remained intact. Blood seeped from a gash on his side, though he stood tall, his sabre resting casually at his side.
The Sentinel glanced at him, a twisted grin spreading across his face. "Captain Edward J. Smith," he said mockingly, his voice dripping with disdain. "Still alive, I see. And injured. Did this boy do that to you?"
Smith didn't answer immediately, his crimson-tinged eyes meeting the Sentinel's with a knowing glint. "You always did let your temper cloud your judgment," he said evenly. "But this time, it's going to cost you."
The Sentinel chuckled, his amusement thinly veiled. "Still clinging to your delusions of duty? Your passengers are already lost. Do you truly think this boy can succeed where you failed?"
Smith's jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his gaze shifting briefly to Aiden. Rowan, Kieran, and Sylva stood at his side, their expressions a mix of determination and unease.
"Focus," Smith said quietly to the group, his voice steady despite his injuries. "This fight isn't ours. Not yet."
The Sentinel turned back to Aiden, his grin fading into a scowl. "Enough of this farce. Let's see if you've learned anything worth my time."
Aiden moved first, closing the distance with a speed that caught even the Sentinel off guard. His blade of twilight cut through the air in a precise, upward arc, its edge glowing faintly with a balance of light and shadow. The Sentinel sidestepped, his own weapon sweeping low in a counterattack. Aiden leapt back, the blade missing him by inches as it carved a jagged fissure into the deck.
The clash that followed was a symphony of light and darkness. Aiden's blade shifted fluidly between strikes, each movement calculated to probe the Sentinel's defenses. The Sentinel countered with sweeping arcs of his weapon, each swing leaving trails of crimson energy that hissed as they dissipated.
"You fight like a child," the Sentinel said, blocking one of Aiden's strikes with a resounding clash of metal. He twisted his blade, forcing Aiden to pivot and deflect the follow-up attack. "Rigid. Predictable. Do you even know what you're fighting for?"
Aiden didn't answer, his strikes growing faster, sharper. He wove light and shadow together, using his mist armor to absorb glancing blows and redirect the force into his counters. The Sentinel's movements became less fluid as Aiden pressed the advantage, their blades meeting in bursts of energy that shook the deck.
The Sentinel growled, his frustration evident. "You cling to your precious balance, yet it chains you. Stagnation, Aiden—that's all Sylva represents. The Core's chaos breeds creation, evolution. Destruction is life's greatest teacher."
Aiden's blade locked with the Sentinel's, their weapons crackling with opposing energies. "Creation without order leads to ruin," he said, his voice steady. "Balance isn't stagnation—it's freedom. Chaos and law, light and dark—they need each other to thrive."
The Sentinel's expression twisted into a snarl. "Naïve. And weak."
Their battle became a whirlwind of creativity. Aiden used his chains to bind the Sentinel briefly, pulling him into a trap of malice-laced spikes. The Sentinel dissolved into mist, reappearing with a blade strike that shattered the spikes and forced Aiden to retreat. Each move was a test of adaptability, their philosophies clashing as much as their weapons.
From the sidelines, Rowan and Kieran exchanged a glance. "He's holding his own," Kieran said, his tone both impressed and cautious.
"Barely," Rowan replied, her grip tightening on her weapon. "We can't just stand here."
Sylva floated closer, her light flickering. "You'd only be in his way. This battle is beyond any of us."
Amara stepped forward, her fan spinning in her hands. "Then we'll do what we can. The shadows are closing in, and the enforcers need help. Smith, watch over Sylva."
Smith gave her a sharp nod. "Don't let them overwhelm you," he said, though his gaze lingered on Aiden. His thoughts were unspoken but clear: Don't hold back, boy. And don't get distracted.
The group moved to reinforce the enforcers, their weapons glowing as they cut through the encroaching shadows. Smith remained behind, his hand resting on his sabre. His mind raced with memories of training Aiden, of the boy's struggle to focus under pressure. You can't afford distractions now, he thought grimly.
The Sentinel, sensing an opportunity, turned his attention to a civilian caught in the chaos. With a flick of his blade, a jagged wave of crimson energy tore through the air, aimed directly at the helpless figure.
Aiden moved without hesitation, his mist armor flaring as he intercepted the attack. The impact sent him skidding back, his armor cracking under the strain. He gritted his teeth, the pain radiating through him, but he held his ground.
Smith stepped forward, his voice cold. "An attack on a civilian under my watch? Unforgivable."
He raised his sabre, and the battlefield trembled as water began to seep onto the deck, pooling around their feet. The Sentinel's eyes narrowed as the water surged, forming a swirling barrier that encased the area.
"This is my domain," Smith said, his voice rising above the chaos. "And you will respect it."
The water shimmered with a faint, unnatural glow, its purpose unclear but undeniably powerful. Smith glanced at Aiden, his expression stern. "Stop wasting time. End this."
Aiden nodded, his resolve hardening. The glow of his blade intensified as he prepared for the next phase of the battle.
The Sentinel's laughter echoed through the water-filled arena. "You think this changes anything? I'll destroy you all."
The Titanic groaned again, the sound echoing like a warning as the battle surged toward its climax.