Zephyra closed the distance fast.
Lightning danced along her spear—ready to strike down the perceived kidnapper.
Jahil barely lifted his shield in time—catching her blow with a resounding clang.
The force drove him back, boots scraping ice and broken concrete.
"Wait—!" Velira shouted.
But Zephyra was already pivoting, readying another strike.
Jahil gritted his teeth—bracing for impact—
when a new tremor shook the street.
Varron roared—his corrupted body expanding grotesquely.
Relic implants along his spine ignited—fusing flesh, metal, and failed glyph code into a monstrous new form.
His skin split.
Extra limbs sprouted.
Eyes flickered across his mutating shoulders.
He had become a homunculus—
a living experiment designed for pure combat and terror.
Zephyra (gritting her teeth):
"Tch—he transformed."
She disengaged Jahil instantly—refocusing on the true threat.
Varron charged.
Jahil moved first—intercepting the brute-force lunge with a low shield bash.
Zephyra struck high—spearing toward one of Varron’s newly grown limbs.
The two moved in tandem—unspoken coordination born from sheer necessity.
For a moment—they pressured him.
Shield deflections.
Spear thrusts.
Cryo bursts.
Storm surges.
But Varron's new form adapted fast.
A sweeping blow caught both Jahil and Zephyra across the chest—sending them sprawling into the wreckage.
Velira gasped—watching in horror as Varron lumbered toward her.
He didn’t even run.
He walked—casual, cruel, confident.
One hand extended toward the relic core hidden beneath her jacket.
Zephyra struggled upright—but too slow.
Varron’s hand closed around her throat—lifting her off the ground effortlessly.
She kicked and sparked—but he didn’t even flinch.
Velira stumbled back—out of reach—
but it wouldn’t matter.
In seconds, Varron would kill Zephyra, grab Velira, and disappear.
Unless—
A pulse.
A freezing pulse.
Jahil Roze stood up—slow, shaking—
eyes locked on Varron.
The relic core at his chest synced—
not bonded fully—
but resonating.
Stat lines across his internal HUD surged.
Strength.
Speed.
Control.
All spiked higher.
Varron (mocking):
"Protecting broken little dreams now, Roze?"
Jahil didn’t answer.
He moved.
One step—then another.
The relic surge condensed his presence—
air frosting around him—
ice blooming underfoot.
Varron's instincts flared—
but too late.
Jahil swung his shield in a rising arc—
connecting with Varron's chest with a crack of splitting flesh and fracturing metal.
The blow ripped Zephyra free—
sent her crashing safely into a snowbank.
She gasped—but she was alive.
Jahil caught her mid-fall—setting her down carefully.
Then he turned back to Varron.
The mutant stumbled—body spasming under the force of the relic-enhanced strike.
Black ichor leaked from his mouth.
Jahil walked forward slowly.
"Maybe it's time," Jahil said lowly,
"to stop blocking the punches—"
(Beat.)
"—and start throwing them."
Varron snarled—lashing out with a half-formed claw.
Jahil ducked—cold precision—driving his elbow into the joint.
Snap.
Followed by a crushing shield bash to the knee—shattering the corrupted limb.
Varron howled—collapsing partially.
Move 1: Cryo Strike: Frostpulse Impact.
A flash-freeze detonation blasted across Varron’s exposed core implants—locking up half his torso.
Varron twisted in rage—trying to regenerate.
Move 2: Cryogenic Sever: Shatterline.
Jahil carved a freezing line across Varron’s mutated spine—suppressing his regenerative coding with pure relic cold.
Varron staggered—spitting blood and fragments of broken glyph tech.
Move 3: Impaling Ice: Core Breaker Finisher.
Jahil drove a crystallized spike of frozen relic energy directly into Varron's main biological heart.
The impact sent a shockwave through the street.
Snow blasted outward.
Concrete cracked under the force.
Varron collapsed completely—body locking up—mutations failing to regenerate.
He wasn't dead—
but he was paralyzed.
Frozen inside his own broken frame.
Jahil stood over him—breathing hard but steady.
The relic core pulsed at his chest.
Behind him—
Velira stumbled forward—awake now, flushed, hands trembling.
She looked between Jahil and Zephyra.
Her heart thundered in her chest, louder than the wind.
Her brain screamed not to say it.
Her mouth moved anyway.
Velira (blurted):
"He’s not the kidnapper—he’s my boyfriend!"
A silence followed.
Her eyes widened—face going from pink to scarlet.
Velira (panicking):
"I-I mean—he’s my... bodyguard!"
Jahil blinked once—then cracked the faintest, most tired grin.
Velira, realizing what she just confessed, stomped her foot in frustration.
Zephyra rose slowly—still catching her breath.
She watched the two of them—
watched Velira fumble and Jahil smirk faintly—
and something tugged sharply at her chest.
An unfamiliar tightness.
Jealousy.
But she didn't recognize it yet.
Zephyra moved in—slapping relic-dampening cuffs onto Varron's frozen body.
"You made enough noise to wake half the agencies," she said dryly.
(Beat.)
"Others will be coming."
Jahil nodded—lifting Velira gently.
Together, they moved away from the battle zone.
Hours later—
Jahil and Velira reached a quiet corner of Brooklyn's outer fringe.
His old house.
A battered relic of a home he’d secretly bought back with saved hero money.
"You live here?" Velira asked, half-teasing.
"Was mine before," Jahil said.
"Bought it back."
"Buying a house to impress me, huh?"
Jahil didn't answer—just gave her a rare, genuine smile.
Velira flushed—grabbing his arm and dragging him toward the door.
Inside, the warmth of the hearth flickered—
and outside, the snow continued to fall.
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