The hexagonal arena stretched wide, its edges dissolving into the void, a battlefield of pure potential. It wasn't just a test of power—it was a clash of approach, of philosophy.
On one side, Orion stood poised, his breathing measured, his stance precise. His Mortal Layer 8 energy coiled around him like a second skin, radiating controlled intensity. Every flex of his fingers, every shift of his weight, was deliberate—a machine in motion.
Across from him, Zephyr slouched, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off sleep. His energy flickered like candlelight, unpredictable, untamed. His posture was loose, almost careless, but his eyes weren't. Beneath the facade of laziness, his gaze was razor-sharp, tracking Orion's every breath, every twitch.
"Ready whenever, genius."
And then—
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
The arena's Overseer AI glitched into its Joker-mode, its voice splitting into a chorus of overlapping tones.
"Tonight's MAIN EVENT: A BATTLE OF BRAINS VERSUS WHATEVER-THE-HELL-ZEPHYR-IS! ON ONE SIDE: ORION, THE MAN WHO BROUGHT A FLOWCHART TO A FISTFIGHT!"
Orion's left eye twitched. The damn AI.
Zephyr chuckled. "Oh, I love this guy."
DING. The fight began.
---
Calculated Domination
Orion closed the gap instantly, vanishing from view. His first test strike—a precise palm aimed at Zephyr's sternum—lashed out with the force of a sledgehammer.
Zephyr leaned, the blow grazing past his ribs. No block. No counter. Just a slip, like water flowing around stone.
Orion's mind whirred. Passive reaction. He's testing me, too.
His next three strikes chained seamlessly—a low kick, an elbow, a spinning palm. Each one a calculated probe.
Kick? Dodged.
Elbow? Deflected.
Palm? Zephyr dipped under it, his breath steady.
Orion adjusted instantly, his stance shifting to optimize the next engagement.
But something was off.
Zephyr was doing nothing.
He wasn't countering, wasn't pushing back—just slipping past Orion's offense, like a shadow flickering at the edges of light.
The AI hollered in amusement:
"OH NO, ORION! HE'S NOT ATTACKING! HE'S JUST VIBING!"
A flicker of irritation crawled up Orion's spine.
Why isn't he fighting back?
He wasn't arrogant enough to assume it was because Zephyr couldn't.
---
The First Opening
Orion exhaled, pushing the thought aside. Doesn't matter. Adapt.
If Zephyr wouldn't attack, he'd make him.
With a half-step feint, Orion angled Zephyr toward the arena's edge—a maneuver he'd used countless times before.
There. The moment Zephyr's foot touched the edge, his movements would be restricted—predictable.
Orion struck.
A lightning-fast palm drove toward Zephyr's ribs.
For a fraction of a second, Zephyr hesitated.
Orion's strike landed clean, the impact splitting the air with a sharp, concussive crack.
Zephyr stumbled back, coughing blood. The metallic tang of it laced the air.
First blood drawn.
The AI screeched with delight:
"OHHH! AND THE CROWD GOES—wait, there is no crowd. But if there was—OH, THEY'D BE LOSING THEIR MINDS!"
Orion stepped forward to press the advantage. This was it. Zephyr was cornered. His opening had finally appeared.
Then—
Zephyr grinned through bloody teeth, his breath ragged. His eyes, previously lazy, now held a sharp, calculating glint.
"Finally."
And Orion felt his stomach drop.
---
Chapter Hook
Zephyr's posture shifted—no longer passive, no longer lazy.
His stance mimicked Orion's own, step for step.
Orion's heart hammered once.
"He's not just reacting."
"He's learning me."
END OF CHAPTER 46