The collective breath of the onlookers hung in the alley like a held note. They weren't just witnessing a fight; they were spectators at the unveiling of something new. For Desmond, for Neko, this was more than an intervention. It was a crucible. A chance to prove that the power he'd used to pull people from danger could also be used to stand against it.
Jax's fist was a blur of malice. It didn't just hit; it impacted, a concussive force that bypassed Neko's guard and connected with a sound like a sack of wet cement dropped from a roof. The air left Neko's lungs in a shocked gasp. He felt his feet leave the ground, and then he was airborne, the world tilting on its axis.
He sailed down the length of the narrow service street, a comet of purple and blue, before crashing through a phalanx of overstuffed trash bins. Plastic cracked, metal shrieked, and a cloud of discarded wrappers and coffee grounds erupted around him. He hit the pavement and rolled, his suit's polymer dispersing the impact in a series of shuddering waves through his frame. He came to a stop on his back, staring up at a strip of darkening sky between the rooftops, ears ringing.
Scattered gasps from the fleeing bystanders echoed around him. And then came the thunder of pursuit.
Jax was already sprinting toward him, his boots pounding the asphalt, a predator closing on dazed prey. His grin was a slash of pure, savage delight. Before Neko could even push himself up onto his elbows, Jax was there, looming, his shadow swallowing the light. He cocked his arm back, muscles coiling with that terrible, building-breaking power.
Neko braced, instinct telling him to roll, but his body was still catching up to the trauma. As he tensed, a strange, warm vibration pulsed in his right hand. He glanced down.
Beneath the blue fabric of his glove, threads of golden light were swirling, spiraling from his knuckles to his wrist like liquid sunlight caught under his skin. It wasn't painful. It felt... focused. Alive.
"What the...?" The whisper was lost in Jax's grunt of effort as he began his downward swing.
There was no time for thought. Only instinct. Neko's mind, honed by years of sensing the world in hyper-detail, latched onto the energy. He didn't understand it, but he could feel its potential, a coiled spring waiting for release. He closed his fist.
The golden threads responded, converging, intensifying. A heatless fire raced up his forearm. As Jax's fist descended, Neko didn't block. He thrust his own glowing fist forward, palm open, not in a punch, but in a gesture of pure expulsion.
The world went white and gold.
A brilliant, compact beam of energy, crackling with barely-contained force, erupted from his palm. It wasn't a wild blast; it was a focused lance, striking Jax square in the sternum with the sound of a thunderclap contained in a soda can.
The grin vanished from Jax's face, replaced by stunned disbelief. The kinetic energy of his own punch was utterly inverted, overwhelmed. He was lifted off his feet and hurled backward as if yanked by a giant's hand, skidding fifteen feet down the pavement on his back, his leather jacket and shirt smoldering, leaving twin scorch marks on the asphalt.
Silence, for a single, profound second.
Neko stared at his own hand. The glow was fading, leaving behind a faint, pleasing tingle. His golden eyes were wide with a shock that was entirely his own.
"I can do that?" he breathed, the question hanging in the acrid air.
The spell broke. The remaining crowd, already teetering on the edge of panic, broke into a full rout. Shrieks and the frantic slap of footsteps filled the street as they scattered, seeking the safety of the main thoroughfares. A strange relief washed over Neko. The battlefield was clear. No more collateral damage to worry about. Just him, the ringing in his ears, and the problem he'd started.
Down the street, Jax stirred. He pushed himself up with a groan, ash and debris falling from his broad chest. He looked down at the ruined, smoking fabric, then back at Neko. The fury in his flinty eyes had been refined, heated in the forge of humiliation into something hotter and more dangerous.
"A cheap shot," Jax growled, his voice a gravelly rasp. He spat a glob of blood and soot onto the pavement. "A light show. It's gonna take a lot more than that to keep me down, alley-cat."
With a roar that was more rage than breath, Jax charged. He was slower this time, angrier, less precise, a battering ram of pure intent. His fist, still capable of reducing brick to powder, swung in a wide, telegraphed arc aimed at Neko's head.
But Neko was different now. The shock had burned away, replaced by a hyper-clarity. The world slowed. He could see the micro-tremors in Jax's shoulder, the shift of weight to his front foot, the exact trajectory of the punch. It wasn't just about seeing it; it was about his body finally believing it could move fast enough to match.
He didn't duck. He raised his forearm, crossing his body in a solid, practiced block.
THUD.
The impact was solid, a deep, resonant sound that traveled up Neko's arm and settled in his teeth. But his arm held. The suit's padding compressed, dispersing the force. Jax's eyes, mere inches away, widened in genuine, uncomprehending shock. His fist wasn't just stopped; it was caught.
Before that shock could translate into a new action, Neko moved. His free hand shot out, seizing Jax's massive wrist. He pivoted on the ball of his foot, using Jax's own momentum against him, his tail lashing for balance. It was a fluid, almost gentle motion—a judo throw executed with impossible speed and leverage.
Jax felt the world upend. He was airborne again, but this time with a sickening, uncontrolled rotation. He flew across the width of the street, a human projectile.
He hit the side of a defunct print shop not with a crash, but with a deep, structural CRUNCH. Brick and mortar surrendered. A cloud of dust and shattered glass bloomed outward as Jax disappeared into the sudden, gaping maw in the building's side. The sound of collapsing drywall and rattling pipes echoed into the sudden, empty quiet.
Neko stood alone in the center of the street, dust settling around him like dirty snow. His breath fogged in the cool air. He slowly lowered his arms, looking from the glowing tinge in his right hand to the jagged hole in the wall.
A block away, a black sedan with tinted windows pulled silently to the curb. Inside, a man in a sleek suit watched a live feed on a tablet, the source a high-altitude drone. He tapped his earpiece. "Subject 'Neko.' Energy projection confirmed. Physical enhancement parameters... significantly exceeding initial profile. Containment protocol upgraded to Alpha. Mr. Mayhem will want to see this."
Neko, unaware of the new eyes upon him, took one last look at the rubble. A siren wailed in the distance, drawing closer. Time to go. With a final flick of his tail, he turned and vanished into the labyrinth of fire escapes and shadowed rooftops, the golden energy in his hand fading to a memory, and a promise.36Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡryJZgqBBeA
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