Adam’s chest heaved, his lungs singeing like they’d been doused in gasoline and set on fire. His claws dripped in the musketeer’s blood, sparked under the illuminating red lightning tearing through the blackened sky.
The monster in front of him grinned, its rough, uneven teeth spewing with black saliva that lted the ground it landed on. The cut Adam had carved into its torso was already healing, flesh bubbling and knitting together, fed by the chaos boiling in the clouds.
The storm twisted, mouths and teeth grinding in the sky, spitting down bolts that wrapped around the creature like chains, feeding it strength.
Adam didn’t flinch. His legs trembled, his body begged to collapse, but his eyes burned with the sa brighter fire that lit up in the hospital, carrying him through the night.
I’m not a liability, not anymore, not ever.
He lunged, his claws aid for the monster’s throat. The musketeer didn’t bother dodging. It caught his wrist mid-swing and twisted. Bones snapped, his bones. Adam bit down, tasting blood as he held back the scream.
Lightning sparked from its claws, searing his flesh, locking his body in spasms. The sll of burning skin filled the already wretched air.
"Pathetic," it rasped, voice guttural, like broken glass pieces sliding down a pipe. It threw Adam across the pavent. He skidded until his back tore open, blood soaking into the dirt and ash. The creature lood over him, fire glowing in its hollow eyes. "You think you can scratch and win? You’re nothing but a fucking liability, you side-character shit."
Adam coughed, blood on his lips. Shaking, as he forced himself to his knees. His claws twitched, still itching to fight. "I’m not done," he spat, his voice calm and steady.
He staggered forward again, low this ti, and tore into its thigh. His claws ripped through muscle and bone. Black blood sprayed, burning holes in the pavent.
The musketeer roared, not in pain, but in rage, and the storm replied, sending another bolt colliding against its body, the wound sealing instantly. It laughed, a sick, wet sound, and swung a massive claw.
Adam ducked, barely, but still lost a strip of flesh from his shoulders. Blood poured, hot and heavy, but he kept moving. His claws gash across its chest, breaking ribs, forcing it back. Then, again, lightning healed it. Flesh knitted closed like nothing happened.
"Fuck you," Adam said, his voice breaking.
He dove forward, tackling it to the ground. His claws dug deeper into its gut, tearing and twisting. Black blood coated his arms, the stench choking him, but he didn’t stop. He ripped and shredded, desperate to leave a wound that stayed.
The musketeer’s laugh turned into a scream, the sky answering his call quickly. Another bolt hit, healing the musketeer faster this ti. It grabbed Adam by the throat, lifting him like a doll. Lightning burned into his chest. Adam scread, his body jerking, but his eyes stayed locked on it.
"I’m... not... done," he gasped through the pain.
The monster sneered, jaw stretching wide, teeth glinting. "You’re already dead, kid." Its grip tightened. Black spots filled Adam’s vision. His body limp, claws limp. But inside, the fire still burned.
Then a new voice cut in, sharp and mocking: "Well, well. Look at this sad excuse for TNT trash. Can’t even handle a rookie? Fucking pathetic."
The musketeer froze, grip loosening. Adam sucked in air, collapsing to the ground. Boots crunched against the cracked pavent. Marcus stepped into view. His scuffed leather jacket, his smirk, his sharp, cunning eyes, he carried a storm even bigger than the musketeer’s form. He didn’t even glance at Adam.
The musketeer turned, eyes narrowing, sensing the imminent danger. "You," it growled, lightning crawling across its claws. "Marcus, the guild’s lapdog."
Marcus laughed low, mocking, his voice teasing, "Lapdog? Nah, I am not a ’lapdog,’ consider more like a dragon. I an, you probably don’t even know what a dragon is, considering you’re a glorified spark plug. I an, is TNT really scraping the barrel with you, huh? Cain couldn’t even find a guy who could kill a kid?"
The creature snarled, storm roaring louder. Red lightning licked down from the sky. It lunged, claws trailing sparks. Marcus didn’t move. He raised a hand, and a barrier of raw energy snapped into place, stopping the strike cold.
The ground shook, but Marcus didn’t even blink. He tilted his head, his smirking growing. "That’s it? I’ve seen street magicians do better tricks. You fucking clown."
Adam, barely standing, leaned on a broken slide. His body was wrecked, but his eyes stayed on Marcus. The guy looked born to crush things like this musketeer.
The monster called down a massive bolt of lightning, thick as a tree trunk. It smashed into Marcus’s barrier, the air shaking. Marcus yawned, actually yawned, and flicked his wrist. The lightning bounced off, exploding into the ground, leaving a smoking crater.
"That’s your big move? My grandma can hit harder, and she’s been dead twenty years."
The musketeer warped, body stretching, bones cracking, sprouting more limbs. It charged claws for Marcus’s chest. Marcus feinted aside, smooth as water, and slamd his fist into its ribs.
The sound was a bomb, bones shattered, blood spewed on the ground, spraying it rotten, and the musketeer flew back through a swing set.
Marcus walked forward, cracking his knuckles. "TNT freaks, like you, think you’re untouchable. Crystals, mutations, lightning storms. Newsflash: you’re not special. You’re just garbage with a glow stick. And think of like the garbage collector, keeping the streets clean of your bullshit."
The musketeer staggered up, slower to heal. The storm above flickered like it was fading. It roared, calling another bolt, but Marcus was already on it. He closed the gap in a blink, fist glowing.
He drove straight into the musketeer’s chest. Bones caved, blood gushed. The creature scread, Marcus grabbed its head, energy surging, and slamd it into the ground. Pavent cracked like glass.
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