Arknights Chronicles One

TG - 7 Fangs and Fists

Year 1096, December 23, 19 : 00 PM
Location : Street of Chernobog


"I always knew I wasn't the strongest. I never meant to be one with the kind of art that I possess."

"I may be stronger compared to Mephisto, Faust, and Crownslayer... but against the other ringleaders, I'm nothing."

"I always thought that as long as I played my cards right, I could defeat anyone. I've always had the upper hand with tactics, with ambushes, with brute force when needed."

"Then why is it that I played my tactics and attacks right-" The sound of crashes and shoots can be heard on a distant street, echoing through the city.

"—yet this one-armed hobo is countering all of my attacks?!" Connor thought in disbelief as he fired his shotgun, the blast reverberating through the alley. But his target dodged effortlessly. Before he could react, the unknown man grabbed his arm, immobilizing him.

Their eyes met—Connor's filled with fury, while the stranger's held only bored indifference. Desperate, Connor raised his free hand to strike, but before he could land a blow, the man released his grip and, with lightning speed, delivered a brutal backhand punch that sent Connor flying through the air.

The impact sent a shockwave of pain coursing through Connor's body. He flew backwards, powerless, until he smashed into the windshield of a nearby car, the glass shattering beneath the force. Winded and stunned, Connor lay amidst the wreckage, gasping for breath.

Connor groaned in agony, sprawled across the hood of the vehicle, shards of glass scattered around him. His vision blurred from the pain, and he struggled to catch his breath, feeling the bruises already forming across his torso. His mind raced as he tried to comprehend how he had been so thoroughly overpowered.

"What... is this guy?" he thought, still reeling from the hit, as the unknown figure slowly walked towards him, his footsteps deliberate and unhurried.

- - - - - -

Year 1096, December 23, 18 : 56 PM
Location : Rhodes Island, Communication room


The hum of the communications hub filled the air as Kal'tsit kept her eyes locked on the data flowing across the screens. Despite the intense focus in the room, the air felt tense with uncertainty.

"Doctor Kal'tsit," one of the operators called from across the room, urgency in their voice. "We've lost contact with several operatives near Amiya's last known location."

Kalt'sit's sharp eyes flickered to the display. She quickly analyzed the situation, her fingers moving rapidly over the controls to pull up additional data.

"Re-establish communication with all teams," she ordered, her voice calm but unyielding. "I want an update every two minutes. And if we can't get through, initiate the tracking protocol immediately. We can't afford to lose anyone out there, especially not with a Catastrophe looming."

Operators scrambled to comply, their keyboards clattering as they followed her commands. The tension in the room thickened as the gravity of the situation settled in. Kalt'sit's expression remained steely, betraying no emotion as she processed the potential dangers her operatives faced.

"Do we have an estimated timeline on the Catastrophe's arrival?" she asked, her tone as clinical as ever.

"Approximately one hour, Dr. Kal'tsit. The storm's intensifying, and we'll lose ground support if it hits too soon," an operator replied, eyes darting nervously toward the screen displaying the swirling, ominous clouds.

Kal'tsit narrowed her gaze. "Then we have less than an hour to resolve this and get everyone to safety. Prepare for evacuation if necessary, but keep all channels open. We will not leave any operatives behind."

She stood silently for a moment, calculating the odds in her mind before turning her attention to the live mission feeds once more. In the chaos and uncertainty of the battlefield, Kal'tsit remained an unshakable pillar, methodically guiding Rhodes Island's operatives through the storm.

"Dr. Kal'tsit! We've established a connection with Nearl's team!" A worker's voice broke through the bustling comms room. Kal'tsit immediately turned her sharp gaze toward him.

"Patch me through," she ordered.

The worker nodded and swiftly pressed several buttons, making multiple attempts to establish the connection. Finally, the line clicked, and a familiar voice came through.

"Rhodes Island?" Nearl's voice was steady but urgent.

"This is Dr. Kal'tsit. What's your status, Operator Nearl?" Kal'tsit asked, her tone calm though her eyes remained glued to the mission screens.

"We've secured the area and dealt with the Reunion forces on our end," Nearl reported, "but still no word from Amiya or Ace's team."

"Should we head to their last known location?" Nearl asked, a trace of concern in her voice.

"Not yet. Keep their comms open and monitor for any updates," Kal'tsit instructed, her words sharp and decisive.

"Understood," came the swift reply.

"And Nearl," Kal'tsit added, her tone growing more severe, "make sure the mission is completed swiftly. A Catastrophe is approaching the city faster than we thought."

"Understood, Dr. Kal'tsit," Nearl acknowledged before the connection cut off.

Kalt'sit's eyes lingered on the screens displaying data and operator statuses. Her gaze moved to a separate monitor on the left, which showed the currently registered operators active in Chernobog. She made her way towards the screen, stopping a few steps away.

"What's the status of our operators?" she asked, her voice calm but expectant as she studied the data.

"All operators seem to be fine," one of the workers replied, glancing up from their console, "but that was our last update before the storm started interfering with the connection."

Kal'tsit hummed in response, her eyes narrowing slightly as she scanned the list of operators on the screen. Something seemed amiss, a detail tugging at the edge of her mind. After finishing her review, her confusion deepened as if she had expected to see someone on the list.

"Has the 2-minute operator registration scan been running as I instructed?" Kal'tsit asked her voice firm, carrying a subtle edge.

The worker quickly leaned forward, typing and pressing several buttons before responding. "It has, Dr. Kal'tsit. No new operators have been registered with any of the teams in Chernobog."

Kalt'sit's expression hardened, her unease growing. "Keep monitoring and inform me if anything happens." She stepped back, mind racing with possibilities as the threat of the Catastrophe loomed ever closer.

Kal'tsit turned on her heel, making her way back to the centre of the room. Her eyes flicked upward to the large screen hanging from the ceiling, displaying a detailed map of Chernobog. The massive storm, a looming Catastrophe, swirled ominously as it crept ever closer to the city, its presence a ticking clock against the operations underway. Her mind raced with calculations and scenarios, the urgency in the air palpable.

As she stared at the approaching storm, she muttered under her breath, "What are you doing, kid?"

Though her words were quiet, the weight behind them was undeniable. Was it a concern for Amiya? Ace? Or perhaps for a person who is unknown to everyone except her?

- - - - -

Year 1096, December 23, 19 : 03 PM
Location : Street of Chernobog


The street, once a tranquil thoroughfare, had morphed into a chaotic battlefield between two combatants, transformed into a grim tapestry of war. Walls were marred with gaping holes, cars lay overturned, and their doors were impaled into the structures around them, each detail a testament to the ferocity of the clash.

Footsteps echoed in the quiet street, mingling with the distant explosions and chaos in the background. Connor, now standing amidst the wreckage in the middle of the street, watched as his attacker strode slowly to the left, unhurried and calm. His weapon was loaded with slug shots, the weight of it heavy in his hands, ready to unleash another attack.

His grip tightened around the shotgun as he tracked the figure's movements. "_I can't let him get the upper hand again._" Connor's eyes narrowed, focusing on the man in front of him, each second stretching into eternity as he prepared for the next strike.

He blinked in confusion, his sharp Lupo ears twitching as they picked up a subtle sound behind him. His eyes widened. Instantly, he whipped around, only to see the same figure, walking to the right this time, mirroring the same deliberate pace.

"What the hell is with this guy's speed?" Connor's mind raced as he replayed the recent events, trying to make sense of it all.

"He got me here in the blink of an eye, and his attacks are just as fast." His grip tightened on his shotgun as he narrowed his eyes, a sense of unease settling over him. "This guy is no joke."

"He could be very dangerous to the other ringleaders." Connor thought as he placed his free hand under the barrel of the shotgun, not touching the blade attached to it.

Connor was brought out of his thoughts as he saw the man stop and fully turn around to face him. His crimson eye, pierced Connor's soul, making him narrow his eyes as he began to feel a bit uneasy.

"I need to escape from him and regroup with my teammates." Connor thought, pushing aside the unsettling feelings gnawing at him. He forced himself to concentrate on the figure in front of him.

"This guy either has some kind of teleportation Arts or he's just ridiculously fast. Then again, no normal person could move like that." His eyes flicked toward the man's right arm or rather, the absence of it.

"His right arm's gone." Connor's mind raced as he formed a plan. "If he grabs me again, I might be able to land a fatal blow on him."

"Hm?" Connor's eyes widened slightly as he watched the man suddenly bend down and pick something up from the ground. A broken pipe. The stranger casually spun it in his hand, inspecting it for a brief moment.

"A broken pipe?" Connor's mind raced, but he quickly dismissed the thought. "No matter. This doesn't change anything. Focus, Connor. Think. Visualize."

He locked eyes with the man, crimson iris staring him down with an eerie calm. But this time, Connor didn't waver. He felt no fear, no hesitation, only a burning determination to win. He watched as the man assumed a ready stance, prepared to strike at any moment. But even with the looming threat, Connor stood firm.

"Visualize victory. Visualize. . . . winning." Connor kept saying that to himself as he locked eyes with the man. The man's bored expression did not change, his eyes never wavered. Soon Connor began to find himself drowning in that crimson eye as the world around him began to be blurry and dark. His heart began to race rapidly, his determent eyes changed into a more worried and afraid look.

He couldn't bear it any more, Connor broke his stance and readiness. This made the person allow him to strike as he dashed towards Connor. He gets frightened as he reaches for his back pocket pulls out three small black spheres and throws them on the ground. The balls exploded, creating a giant smoke in the middle of the street. "Shit. I got frightened."

"No matter, I just-" Connor's thought was abruptly cut off as the man appeared in the smoke, moving like a shadow through the thick fog. The pipe swung toward him in a wide arc. Reacting on instinct, Connor leaned back, narrowly dodging the strike.

The two engaged in rapid, close-quarter combat, blocking and exchanging blows, the sound of metal and flesh clashing muffled by the smoke. Connor struggled to match the unknown man's speed, but his mind raced, trying to find a way out.

Amid the chaos, Connor's eyes locked onto the narrow alleyway off to the side, hidden in the shadows. A plan crystallized in his mind.

"I got it," he thought, a flicker of hope surging through him. With newfound determination, he shifted his focus back to the unknown man, bracing himself to execute his escape.

As the man charged toward him, prepared to strike, Connor reacted swiftly. Instead of facing the blow head-on, he sprinted forward, sliding under the attack at the last second. Without wasting a moment, he bolted toward the alleyway, not daring to look back.

As he ran, Connor fired two shots from his shotgun in a desperate attempt to slow down his pursuer. The unknown man dodged both effortlessly, though one shot grazed his outfit, tearing the fabric slightly.

As Connor put his shotgun on his back and dashed into the alleyway, he wove through twists and turns, desperately trying to lose his relentless pursuer. Up ahead, an abandoned construction site caught his eye. A smirk spread across his face as he noticed a mobile crane hoisting a metal container just above the entrance. "This might come in handy."

He glanced back and saw his pursuer burst out of the alley with fierce determination, sending a shiver down Connor's spine. "No limits, huh? Let's see how far that goes."

With renewed confidence, Connor sprinted toward the construction site. Upon reaching the gates, he swiftly pulled a knife from his back pocket, its blade shimmering with a white smoke coating. Without a moment's hesitation, he hurled it at the cable holding the metal container.

The knife struck true, severing the cable and sending the tower crashing down, effectively sealing off the entrance behind him.

"Now, for a quick preparation," Connor smirked as he pulled out six white pellets, holding them between his fingers.

With a swift motion, he tossed two pellets to the left, two to the right, one to the front, and the last one high into the air. The five pellets exploded simultaneously, engulfing the area in a thick cloud of white smoke as he sprinted forward, disappearing into the haze.

As if on cue, Connor's pursuer leapt atop the container, scanning the smoke-shrouded area with narrowed eye, searching for his target. The man methodically surveyed the ground below, looking for any sign of movement.

After weighing his visible options, he jumped down into the smoke and made his way toward the construction site.

As he navigated through the swirling white fog, his senses heightened, and he remained alert to every sound and movement around him. After a short distance, he finally spotted the door to the main building. Just as he was about to step inside, his eye widened in alarm. He instinctively leaned back, narrowly evading a sword that sliced through the air, missing his face by mere inches.

Confusion washed over him as the fog began to swirl and take shapes around him. He watched in bewilderment as the white smoke coalesced into the forms of Reunion soldiers, circling the man. His eye widened, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise as he let out a soft hum, realizing the dire situation he was now in.

While his pursuer dealt with the chaos below, Connor was already making his way up the building, three white smoke clones trailing closely behind him. "_It sounds like my Art trap has been triggered. That should buy me enough time to contact my team._" With that thought driving him, he leapt onto a set of metal bars and began climbing swiftly, his movements fluid and precise.

As Connor reached the floor above, he spotted a staircase at the far end of the room, the only way up. Without hesitation, he sprinted towards it, but his breath caught in his throat, and his steps faltered. His eyes widened in disbelief as his pursuer suddenly materialized before him, blocking his path.

"You can't be serious!" Connor's mind raced, unable to comprehend how the man had closed the distance so quickly.

"How is he here? Did he defeat my smoke guards that fast?!" Connor's mind raced in disbelief as he raised his fists and charged. Fueled by a mix of adrenaline and desperation, he unleashed a flurry of punches, each one aimed with precision and force. But his frustration only grew as his pursuer, still gripping the broken pipe, effortlessly blocked every single strike with his lone arm.

The man's expression remained unchanged, calm and unbothered as if Connor's attacks were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

As the man blocked all of Connor's punches, he suddenly swung the back of his hand, hitting Connor and sending him stumbling off to the side. Just as Connor moved, one of his white smoke clones took his place, sword raised high to strike down the man.

But the attacker simply sidestepped, dodging the incoming blow with ease. Another white smoke soldier emerged from behind, slashing at the man. Before the blade could connect, the man leapt high up in the air to the point where his foot touched the ceiling. As his feet touched the ceiling, he pushed himself off with incredible force. He launched himself downward like a missile, slamming into the ground with such power that a shockwave erupted, instantly dispelling both smoke soldiers.

As the two smoke soldiers dissipated, Connor emerged from behind, his shotgun blade slicing downward in a swift vertical strike. The man reacted just in time, swinging his pipe in defence. The blade cut through the pipe with ease, splitting it in two.

Before Connor could recover, the man swiftly dodged the follow-through of the attack, causing the blade to strike the floor with a metallic clang. The moment of advantage slipped through Connor's fingers as his opponent evaded the hit effortlessly.

Before the man could fully react, Connor followed up with a swift horizontal slash. The man dodged the attack, narrowly leaning back to avoid the blade, then seized Connor's arm, tossing him across the room with ease. Connor crashed to the ground, his weapon slipping from his grasp as he hit the floor.

The man began to advance toward him, eyes locked on Connor's fallen form. But just as he took a step, something caught his attention. He froze, scanning the room with a sharp gaze, his eyes widening when he saw multiple white smoke clones charging at him from every angle, ready to strike.

The man glanced at Connor, who was smirking despite his position on the floor. In response, the man's expression shifted to one of irritation. Turning his attention to the approaching smoke soldiers, he released the remains of the broken pipe and lifted his leg high before slamming it down with incredible force.

To Connor's utter shock, the ground beneath the man's foot cracked violently. Chunks of the floor erupted into the air, creating a jagged barrier around him, sending debris flying as if the battlefield itself had been torn apart by his sheer strength.

The shockwave obliterated some of the smoke soldiers nearest to the man, while others were merely knocked back. To Connor's untrained eye, it seemed as if nothing else had happened. But in that brief moment, the man raised his arm, effortlessly flicking one of the chunks of debris into the air. The piece rocketed toward a smoke soldier, disintegrating it on impact.

Without pausing, the man continued his assault, flicking each piece of debris with pinpoint precision, sending them flying into the remaining smoke soldiers and destroying them one by one.

What felt like a minute to the man transpired in an instant for Connor, whose smirk remained plastered on his face, but shock simmered beneath the surface.

"Heh?" Connor's eyes twitched as he watched the man shake his hand while baring a bored look. He suddenly stops his movements and turns his gaze to Connor. Crimson eye locks with grey eye colour. One looks at its prey, and the other looks at its hunter.

Connor slowly rose to his feet, his gaze locked onto his foe. Despite the fear gnawing at him from behind, he held his ground. Just as he prepared to speak, his pursuer smiled and broke the silence. "A smoke-based Art that lets you create anything from your imagination."

Connor's eyes widened in surprise as the man continued, scratching his neck and letting his smile broaden. "Connor Hughes, correct?"

"What?" Connor stammered, confusion washing over him. He struggled to comprehend the sudden shift in the man's demeanour. Just moments ago, he had faced a relentless opponent with a bloodthirsty glare, and now here he was, addressing him with a gentle smile and a question.

The man raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly before breaking into a full laugh. "Sorry, this must be pretty strange for you, huh?"

"I was hunting you down, beating you up, and now suddenly, I'm like this. I apologize," he said in a surprisingly kind tone, one that starkly contrasted with his earlier ruthlessness.

Connor, still baffled by the abrupt shift in the man's demeanour, slowly crouched to pick up his shotgun from the floor. Standing straight again, he kept his eyes on the man, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Should he attack? Could he even trust this sudden change? What if this was a trap? He wrestled with the decision, unsure if fighting again would lead to another disastrous outcome, or if this strange moment was a chance for something different.

Connor decided not to take any unnecessary risks. He had more pressing matters to focus on. Slowly, he slung his shotgun over his back and let his arms fall to his sides, locking eyes with the man. "Care to tell me who you are now?"

"Hm?" The man raised an eyebrow in mild confusion, his smile fading back into his usual bored expression. He gave a small shake of his head, dismissing the question, and then turned to his right, as if losing interest in the conversation altogether.

"What does it matter if you know who I am? You wouldn't gain anything from just knowing my name, now would you?" the man replied, his voice flat as he began walking towards the open edge of the floor that offered a view of the city.

Connor's confusion only deepened as he watched the man move casually toward the edge of the floor. Cautiously, he started to follow. "W-Wait! Where are you going?"

"I've done what I came to do. There's no reason for me to stay here any longer," the man answered calmly, his back still turned.

Connor's eyes widened as the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He glanced down at the floor, putting the pieces together. "Wait... he didn't bring me here to finish me off. He wanted to take me away from the real fight..."

His fists clenched in anger, and he snapped his gaze toward the man with a fierce glare. "You're telling me... all that chase, all those attacks... you were just stalling for time? For your traitorous friends?"

Connor's fury boiled over as the realization hit him like a hammer. His voice, laced with venom, echoed through the room. "You were just stalling... for them?" Connor said it as he reached for his shotgun and grabbed it's handle.

The accusation hung in the air, halting the man mid-step. Slowly, the man turned his head, his bored expression giving way to something far more dangerous. His crimson eye locked onto Connor, a predatory gleam flickering within them.

"Why?" The man's voice, calm yet menacing, cut through the silence. "Would you like to continue this little chase of ours?"

Connor's surroundings seemed to grow colder with every passing second as if the man's words had cast a chilling spell over the air. His breath quickened, his chest tightening as though an unseen hand was wrapped around his throat. His legs felt heavy as he stumbled back, one hand clutching his neck in a desperate attempt to breathe.

His gaze dropped to the floor, trying to focus, to keep his mind from slipping into panic.

Then, abruptly, the cold air vanished. It was the sound of a soft cough that broke the suffocating tension. Connor's head snapped up, his eyes darting to where the man had stood. His pulse raced when he realized the man was gone.

Connor rushed toward the edge of the floor, his footsteps echoing in the space. As he neared the ledge, his eyes locked onto something unexpected. Bloodstains smeared across the ground where the man had once stood.

"What...?" he muttered under his breath, his confusion deepening. His mind raced, trying to piece together the strange sequence of events. One moment the man was there, exuding power and menace, and the next, gone without a trace—except for the blood.

Connor's heart pounded in his chest as the unsettling realization crept in. Something had shifted, but he didn't know what.

- - - - - -

Year 1096, December 23, 19 : 10 PM
Location : Unknown alleyway


Quiet yet steady footsteps echoed through the dim alleyway as Ronin staggered forward, one hand pressed against the wall for support. His movements were slow and laboured, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps every few steps.

"I... I guess I had... too much... fun," Ronin muttered weakly as he continued toward the alley's exit, each word a struggle.

"I told you, Ronin, you should've knocked the guy out when you had the chance. You're putting yourself in danger while you're 'having fun.'" The gentle voice echoed in his mind, tinged with a mix of anger and scolding at his reckless approach.

"Come on, cut him some slack. We managed to stall him and kept him from helping his teammates. Rhodes Island should be fine," another voice, deeper and more relaxed, chimed in.

"If Ronin didn't have such a condition, I might overlook this, but considering his unique situation, I can't excuse his stupidity this time." the gentle voice retorted, frustration seeping through.

Ronin abruptly halted, leaning against the wall for support. He pressed a hand to his chest, taking a moment to steady his breathing. "I understand my mistake, and I apologize. I was just curious about his tactics and the Art he was using if he even had one. And it turns out he did."

Pushing himself off the wall, Ronin resumed his slow trek toward the alley's exit. "I promise I'll pay more attention next time. I won't make the same mistake again."

As Ronin approached the alley's exit, the sounds of clanging metal and raised voices grew increasingly loud. He edged closer to the opening, hugging the wall for cover, and peered out to assess the situation.

What he saw was a dynamic scene: Rhodes Island operatives were pushing back the remaining Reunion soldiers. Some foes were fleeing, while others stood their ground, only to be swiftly dispatched by Dobermann and her team.

Ronin watched in awe as Dobermann skillfully took down three soldiers with her whip, dispatching them with ease. Once the trio fell, her teammates moved in swiftly, binding their hands with practised efficiency. With her weapon resting at her hip, Dobermann turned to regroup with Amiya and Doctor Aaron, her expression unwavering.

Relief washed over Ronin as he observed the two, grateful to see that neither had sustained any harm. His attention was suddenly diverted by a loud huff, and he spotted Ace resting his hand on his shield, which was pierced into the ground. He was speaking into a radio, and Ronin felt another wave of relief wash over him at the sight of the brute unharmed.

"Heh, seems that brute is still in his kicking er-" Ronin's thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he narrowed his eyes, noticing something moving behind Ace.

"Wait, that's-" As he got a clearer view, panic surged through him. A Reunion soldier was slowly rising from the ground, and Ronin felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach.

The soldier looked around cautiously, and upon realizing that no one noticed him, he fixed his gaze on Ace's back. Ronin's heart raced as he saw the Reunion soldier pull a knife from his pocket and begin to stealthily approach Ace.

Ronin's eyes widened in horror. "That soldier is going to kill Ace!"

"Ace! Behind you!" Ronin's voice cut through the air, snapping Ace's attention to the Reunion soldier charging at him. Instinctively, Ace swung his hammer, connecting with the attacker and knocking him out cold. The Reunion soldier hit the ground, motionless, as Ace stood panting, his heart racing from the close call.

"Ace, are you alright?!" Amiya called out, rushing toward him with the others. But Ace didn't respond immediately. His eyes were scanning the area, searching, as if looking for someone. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you okay Ace?" Amiya asked, concern creeping into her voice.

"I'm... I'm not sure," Ace replied, still catching his breath, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Did one of you warn me about the soldier behind me?" He turned to face the group, scanning their faces for answers.

The others exchanged puzzled glances, uncertainty hanging in the air. Amiya stepped forward, her concern evident. "No, none of us did," she said, shaking her head. "But we did hear someone shout your name, it's what made us look in your direction."

Ace's confusion deepened, a sense of unease creeping into his thoughts as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Ace's brow furrowed as Amiya and the others shook their heads in confusion. "No one?" he asked again, his voice trailing off. He scanned their faces, all of them wearing the same expression of concern.

Ace couldn't let it go. The voice that had shouted his name, it was unmistakable, familiar even. He thought about a person that the voice could belong to, but the idea seemed impossible. "I... I swear I heard someone," Ace mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

Dobermann stepped forward. "Ace. Whoever or whatever warned you is not important right now. We can't waste time. The mission isn't over."

Ace nodded slowly, forcing himself to focus. "Y-Yeah. You're right." But even as they prepared to move out, his mind was still racing. That voice, it couldn't have been a ghost, right?

As Rhodes Island regrouped under Dobermann's lead and moved out, Ace lingered behind, his eyes sweeping the area one last time before he turned to follow. His mind was heavy with disbelief, the voice he'd heard still echoing in his thoughts. It was a voice he hadn't heard in years, a voice that belonged to someone who had once fought by his side, now seemingly resurfaced from the shadows of the past.

"Was that... the kid's voice?" Ace whispered to himself, struggling to make sense of the confusion and doubt swirling in his mind.

Meanwhile, on the rooftop of a nearby building, Ronin lay motionless on his side, unconscious. His breathing was shallow, and faint traces of blood were visible at the corners of his mouth. The toll of pushing his body past its limits had finally caught up to him, and now, with the battle over and the adrenaline gone, his weakened state had taken over.

The sun began to set over the city, casting a dim glow over the rooftop where Ronin lay, unnoticed by anyone below.





To be continued in TG - 8 Decisions & Questions

Author note :
Here's a double upload, now I leave to work on the other chapters.
Connor Vs Ronin fight is the first real fight that I wrote since the hiatus of my previous book. I hope it's entertaining and well-paced and not boring for all of you.
The same goes for the story and info pacing.