The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, before he finally spoke, his voice sharp, each word a asured strike.
"When?" His gaze pinned Reves in place, unwavering. "Where? And how?"
The last word ca out colder than ice, laced with a barely controlled anger that crackled beneath the surface. Reves swallowed hard, a bead of sweat forming on his brow.
"Father," Reves said, his voice trembling, "d-don't worry. The Reality Master I serve… he's not like the others. He's—he's good."
Nathan's lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable.
"Good?" The word fell from his lips with a bitter edge, as if it were sothing foreign, sothing that could never belong in the sa sentence as 'Reality Master.'
His fists clenched at his sides, the muscles in his arms taut with restraint.
"Reves, a Reality Master doesn't follow morality. They don't care about right or wrong. They exist to shape reality to their will, no matter the cost."
He stepped forward, closing the gap between them.
"Now answer ," he said, his voice low but filled with raw intensity. "When? Where? And how did you beco a Walker?"
Reves opened his mouth to speak, but before the words could escape, his father's hand shot out, covering his mouth.
Nathan's eyes scanned the surroundings, his body tense, every sense alert.
In that instant, a transparent whip, like a glimr of glass, lashed out from the shadows toward them.
Nathan reacted without hesitation. He pushed Reves back with one arm, the motion swift but controlled.
His skin hardened into a tallic sheen, the smooth, cold surface of his [tallic Skin] skill forming instantly.
The whip struck against him with a soft, ringing sound, but there was no mark left behind.
Yet, even with the blow absorbed, Nathan's body trembled slightly. It wasn't the pain of the strike—it was sothing deeper, an emotional sting that pierced him unexpectedly.
The whip wasn't just a physical attack; it seed to reach inside him, stirring feelings he'd buried long ago.
For a mont, his emotions stirred as he clasped his hands to aim towards the direction of the attacker. However, just then another figure appeared to the side.
Nathan caught the faint shimr of invisible chains slithering across the ground, coiling toward him like serpents. He didn't wait for them to strike.
He activated [tal Spear].
His steel-tipped spear ford in his hand, razor-sharp and gleaming. With a single, fluid motion, he swept it across the ground, the edge slicing through the unseen chains.
The air humd with tension, and the earth itself seed to recoil under the oppressive weight of the enemy's abilities. Nathan's skin rippled, the tallic surface shifting as spiked protrusions erupted along his forearms.
A cruel lash of the whip ca at him again, this ti faster, more precise. Nathan didn't dodge. Instead, his spear blurred in his hands, deflecting the whip mid-air and sending it snapping harmlessly back to where it ca from.
The figure using a whip then stretched their arms wide, and an invisible force began to squeeze Nathan's tallic fra. He felt the strain, the invisible grip tightening around his ribs, threatening to crack them despite his reinforced body.
Gritting his teeth, Nathan's tallic skin shimred brighter, layers of hardened steel forming against the invisible force. With a sudden burst of strength, he flexed, the tallic shell fracturing outward in a sharp shockwave.
The invisible grip shattered like glass, forcing the enemies back a step.
From behind, the faint red glow of a bloody mirror flared. Nathan turned too late to stop its reflection. Across the surface of the crimson mirror, his tallic skin began to ripple, faint cracks appearing and glowing red-hot. Pain shot through him, amplified by the mirror's cruel mimicry.
The mirror had reflected its wounds onto Nathan!
'There's three of them?' He thought.
His breath hitched, but his movents didn't falter.
He drove his spear into the ground. The motion sent a shockwave of jagged, tallic shards rippling through the air like a burst of shrapnel.
The shards tore toward the enemies, disrupting their control over the battlefield.
One of the shards grazed the edge of the whip-user's hand, forcing them to step back. Another tore through the faint glow surrounding the mirror, dimming its power for a precious mont.
Nathan seized the opening. His body shot forward in a blur of sharp angles and flashing silver, a dance of fluid motion. His tallic arm extended with deadly precision, morphing mid-swing into a long, serrated blade.
With a wide, cutting arc, he forced the trio back, pushing them further into the shadows, the air around him crackling with intensity.
But the whip user wasn't fazed. Their eyes narrowed briefly, calculating, and with a sudden shift, they whipped their arm to the side, sending another lash slicing through the air.
This ti, however, the target was not Nathan—it was Reves.
Nathan's eyes flashed with panic as the whip sailed toward his son, a blur of lethal force. His heart skipped a beat, and for the briefest mont, his usual calm faltered. He thrust his arms outward, trying to pull it into a shield to protect his son.
The whip user had stretched their arms again, trapping him, his movents completely restricted. His limbs felt heavy, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.
Fear flared in his chest, his mind scrambling as he realized Reves was in danger, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Panic surged inside Nathan's chest. He was trapped. Reves was—
But before fear could take hold, Reves launched himself into the air, higher than he should have been able to leap, his body defying the limits of his height. The whip struck nothing but air as Reves soared past it.
Reves landed lightly on his feet, barely winded, and looked back at his father with a grin. "Dad, don't worry about ! I got this! I can dodge anything!"
His words were confident, but Nathan could hear the faint tremor beneath them—the anxiety hidden in his son's voice.
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