Time seemed to freeze at the moment of impact. The deafening CLANG of Murasame's blade meeting Incursio's armor echoed through the warehouse, an impossible symphony. Sparks of purple and black danced in the air between us. Akame leaped backward, landing lightly several feet away, her usually expressionless face now showing pure shock. She looked at her blade, as if the weapon had betrayed her, then back at me.
Inside my draconic helmet, my mind raced at lightning speed, trying to process what had just happened. I had survived. The attack that should have been the end of everything, that inescapable curse, had failed. Why? And then, an understanding flashed through my mind, a conclusion born from the knowledge of my former world and the instincts of my new power. Tyrant. The name of the legendary Danger Beast that was the origin of Incursio. A dragon. Poisons, curses… none of that would work on a dragon with such overwhelming vitality. This armor wasn't just metal; it carried the life-force legacy of the creature that created it. Incursio, at its core, possessed a resistance or even an immunity to poison.
However, this realization was accompanied by another, far more dangerous sensation. With the full manifestation of Incursio, the dragon's rage was much stronger. A wave of primal fury, a desire to destroy the threat before me, threatened to engulf my consciousness. My mind screamed. 'No! Control it! She is not an enemy to be destroyed!' I had to fight Akame in the outside world, and fight Tyrant within my own mind.
"How…?" Akame whispered, her cold voice heard for the first time, laced with disbelief.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Speaking required concentration, and right now, all my concentration was being used to hold back the killing instinct of this armor. With a distorted roar from my helmet, I charged forward. My movements were faster, stronger than before, but also more savage and unpolished. This was no longer a battle of strategy; it was an explosion of raw power.
I slammed my armored fist where she had been standing. She dodged with ease, her blade moving in a deadly arc to try and sever the joint at my elbow. I twisted my body, allowing the attack to only graze my shoulder guard. The warehouse became our arena. I smashed wooden crates into splinters with my missed blows. She danced between my attacks, her sword occasionally clashing with my armor, each impact sending a shockwave through my body.
"STOP THIS FIGHT!" roared Ryukyu.
Her massive draconic form finally began to move. She was too large for this space, but she had no choice. She swung her giant claws, not to attack Akame, but to separate us, shattering the concrete floor between us and creating a barrier. Nejire, seeing an opening, fired several precise energy blasts, Nejire Pikes, at Akame, forcing her to leap up onto the steel beams in the ceiling.
The situation devolved into a chaotic three-way dance. Ryukyu tried to use her size to control the area, but it just restricted her own movements. Nejire provided support fire from the air, but she had to be extremely careful not to hit me. And in the middle of it all, Akame and I continued our chase, a clash between brutal strength and lethal speed.
I could see that Akame was no longer trying to kill me. Each of her strikes was now aimed at the joints of my armor or at weak points she perceived. She was testing my defenses, analyzing my movements. This was no longer an assassination; it was data collection. Realizing this, I managed to gain a sliver of control over Incursio's rage. I began to try and mirror her movements, to fight smarter, not just harder.
Our battle carried us away from Ryukyu and Nejire for a moment, to a darker corner of the warehouse. There, for a split second, we paused, staring at each other from a few feet away.
"Who are you?" she asked again, her voice more demanding this time. "That armor… it shouldn't exist here. In this world."
So, she knew. She was just like me. An anomaly. "I could ask you the same thing," I countered, my distorted voice raspy. "Murasame shouldn't be here either."
The silent acknowledgment hung between us. We were two ghosts from a dead world, who had accidentally met in this strange place. But there was no time for a reunion. I could hear the heavy footsteps of Ryukyu approaching, and the faint sound of police sirens was beginning to grow in the distance. I couldn't let her get caught. If the government in this world got their hands on Murasame and analyzed it, the consequences could be disastrous. And I… I didn't want to see Akame end up in a laboratory cell.
I had to end this. Now. I had to take a crazy gamble, an act that defied all combat logic.
As Ryukyu and Nejire got a line of sight on us again, I did the most unexpected thing. In the middle of a fight against the deadliest assassin I had ever known, I stopped completely. I dropped my fighting stance. I looked straight at Akame.
In my mind, I screamed at Incursio. 'RELEASE!'
With one last burst of energy and a wave of agonizing pain, I forcibly retracted the entire Incursio armor back into my body. The process tore me apart from the inside, and I fell to my knees, then slumped forward onto the cold concrete floor. I was completely helpless, gasping for breath, my torn gym uniform my only protection. I lifted my heavy head, looking up at Akame who stood frozen above me, her cursed blade still raised.
The entire warehouse froze. Nejire screamed my name from above. Ryukyu let out a furious roar, ready to pounce to protect me. But they all stopped when I opened my mouth. With the last of my breath, I mumbled a single word. A single name. A name I should not know in this world.
"Akame..."
The word, though weakly spoken, hit her harder than any of All Might's punches. Her ruby eyes widened in total shock, her cold assassin's mask shattering into a million pieces. Confusion, disbelief, and a flicker of terrifying hope flashed across her face. How? How could this boy… know her real name?
She stood there, frozen, her sword poised over my helpless form. Behind her, a giant dragon prepared to strike. Above, a young hero shot downward. And in the distance, the sound of police sirens grew ever closer. Time seemed to stop, hanging on the one unspoken question in the killer's eyes.