"Your granddaughter is a softie you know. My report claims she has a D rank," Thomas says cooly, "That obviously leads her to be nothing more than a light snack for Hanger."
Edward smirks, eyes narrowing on the Acid King. "Hanger? One of your comrades' names?"
"Strange fellow. Big guy. Huge appetite. He must have surely gave your granddaughter a hard time," Thomas replied bluntly, opening his sharp-clawed gauntlets.
"Oh, he did give my granddaughter a hard time but ultimately–" Edward explains slowly, unsheathing his katana, "It's best you call to clean up on Sacramento Street,"
What does he mean by that? Thomas questions, trying to decode Edward's cryptic remark.
"Your friend ended up as roadkill as what she told me," Edward angrily says pointing his katana directly towards Thomas, "For a man with such an insatiable appetite- he got an easier death than most."
Thomas' eyes with shock, bewildered by this turn of events. The confusion fades as he maintains himself.
He's caught off guard–only for a moment.
"Surprised?" Edward taunts.
"No I'm not," Thomas snaps, though the shock on his face betrays him. Edward's fingers curl around the hilt, his blade rose in a steadied arc, the tip aimed at his enemy's heart. His eyes are sharp and unwavering–an unspoken promise of what's about to come.
No way Hanger got killed by a girl like her–without a technique as well, Thomas' thoughts spiral, as he stares at Edward's blade–a little too long for his comfort. He grits his teeth, refusing to believe it. That pig got caught up scaring his prey. Playing with his food.
The walls around him trickled a memory the assassin couldn't reach.
Crouching down on his feet, Thomas launches forward, closing the distance between his target. Shooting his arm forward in a ruthless arc, Thomas aims for Edward's neck. With a quick almost casual block, Edward deflects Thomas' arm aside.
Grabbing onto Edward's arm, Thomas pulls the old man forward, striking him with his jagged gauntlet. The metal scraps against the flesh with a harsh grating sound as the force is enough to make Edward drop his sword on the floor.
Without hesitation, swinging over with his left hand, Thomas slams Edward in the face before he can recover. Staggering on his feet, Edward regains balance just in time. Countering, Edward's hand comes underneath, grabbing Thomas's wrist.
Flicking his hand, Edward delivers three rapid chops to Thomas' body– neck, chest, and a faster chop to his neck again.
Grabbing onto Thomas' black coat, Edward yanks it over his head with a crack, pulling the assassin close. Coiling up his fist, Edward's muscles tense before unleashing a full crushing knockout that cracks Thomas' head back.
Building on the pressure, Edward takes a deep step to his left side and pulls the assassin back in. Keeping his feet laid flat on the floor, Edward wraps Thomas' ankles with his own, tripping him to the floor.
Without missing a beat, Thomas kicks his knee up, planting his foot flat onto the ground. He uses his hands to balance and pushes himself back to his feet.
The air around Thomas' metal glove crackles and shimmers. Glowing with a radioactive green, the assassin steps forward, spraying the corrosive acid directly at Edward.
Shifting his body, the old man narrowly dodges the attack–just in time, leaving the wall behind him an unfortunate victim. The intricate stone wall disintegrates into sludgy ruin–hissing in the aftermath.
He didn't look back, he knew that could have been his face.
That's a fast-working acid, Edward notes, analyzing the speed of the wall collapsing. Probably the most refined acid manipulation I've ever seen.
With a flick of his wrists, a thin ribbon of corrosive acid slashes around like a whip. It cuts through the walls cleanly, with no splash or residue.
Not even the strongest acids around can melt brick like that, Edward's mind races carefully dodging the acidic whips curving mid-air. Most acid manipulators are volatile and messy–just as likely to burn themselves as well as their opponent.
Thomas flicks his wrist, with a cold calculating glare. The air hisses like a dying animal, bubbling as a corrosive jet devours everything in its path. The stone path melted together like candle wax.
Who are you? Edward questions, dodging another acid projectile at him. A few droplets nearly splash onto his face but he manages to get out of its trajectory in time.
"Every battle is a reminder that survival comes before everything else," Thomas remarks, shooting out his flat hand towards Edward's head, but the old man shifts his weight. The assassin's hand slices through the air where the old man's head is.
"I've fought through hell to get to where I am," Thomas glares at Edward directly below him. Swinging his blade in a gentle arc, Edward aims at Thomas' head but the assassin steps back.
"Your hands are shaking. No wonder you lost your edge," Thomas insults, trying to dismiss his skills. "Try being in a rocking chair, not throwing punches." Firing a horizontal burst, acid tears through the air like boiling rain, hissing as it knew who to melt.
Edward's pupil shrank.
The air thickened–not with heat but with intent.
Sliding one foot back and pivoting with the other, he twists with surgical precision. His movements are exact and crisp–like dancing on a thread between life and death. The corrosive wave nearly consumes Edward as he dodges out of its trajectory.
The vapor claws on his cloak, taking a light snack on the edges in smoky wisps.
Narrowing his gaze, he bends down in a low stance. The air around Thomas shifts unnaturally as if something heavy weight on his shoulders. With a gentle push, the old man leaps forward.
He appears in front of Thomas as if his body moved with the wind. It wasn't like any simple teleportation or flash effect move- it was something different. Thomas' eyes widen as he sees Edward's katana near his neck.
Thomas' body needed to move but something didn't allow it. An overpowering force felt like it was tying him to the ground- He knew he could easily break through it but something didn't allow him to.
His instincts screamed, but the paycheck told him to shut up. It was as if the world around him had stopped.
Thomas, managing to move his arm, swiping it to block Edward's katana. Edward pivots around the Acid King, launching another surprise attack— but Thomas twists in time, deflecting it with a hiss of metal.
That was too close, Thomas thinks to himself, Still what was that?
"Flame," Edward shouts, his blade engulfed in an inferno of fire and ash. The smell of ozone lingers in the stone corridors around them.
With his eyes widening, Thomas defends himself from Edward's katana swing. A metal clink rings in the corridors as the blade gets stuck on Thomas' clawed gauntlet.
"Never underestimate age with strength." Edward retorts, moving his legs forward. He sidesteps around Thomas, landing a visceral slash across his chest.
Thomas' expression is unmoving but his eyes tell a different story.
The assassin steps back, his steps stumbling on each other. He clutches tightly on the scorching slash made across his body. His breath was heavy, shoulders rising and falling with uncertainty.
The stone walls felt like it was closing in on Thomas. His mind racing trying to regain his composure, it was all of his imagination. It all felt like a void- just like that room.
The cold sterile environment of the walls sends a shiver down his spine.
"How did you do that?" Thomas angrily questions, "A person of your age shouldn't have been able to do that?"
"I'm not that old." Edward softly retorts back, "I'm only 72 years old. I still have that passion in me."
Thomas' eyes grow angrier as he pictures Edward as someone familiar yet distant to him. Edward's presence shifts between himself and a man in a white suit, his face smudged and distorted. His facial features were unrecognizable but Thomas could recognize him.
That face.
A physical emotional whiplash hits Thomas as the world around him feels like it's slowing down. His body instinctively recoils and freezes. The memory of the man in front of him punches through the moment, and Thomas' fury flares up like a match to gasoline.
"You call yourself having a passion," Thomas' blood pressure boils, gritting his teeth together. "What is there to be noble or idealistic over? Passion is a relentless pursuit to survive–it has no place where only you have yourself."
Edward's gaze narrows, carefully keeping his distance. Zhang slowly rises off the marble floor, his surroundings slowly coming back to him. Turning his head, he spots Thomas standing in front of his view–back turned, his gaze directed towards Edward.
"I refuse to believe a decrepit person like yourself is fighting for something noble—you only care to matter," Thomas' gauntlets glow a radioactive glow, illuminating the corridors in its toxic glow. "We buried men like you decades ago, always rushing into the minefields."
Edward's shoulders tense up, as he hears Thomas' harsh blunt words. His eyes sharpen, almost protecting mentally protecting himself. Zhang slowly summons his katanas, making sure not to alert Thomas' attention.
"Go ahead and hurt me," the old man snaps, soft but defiant. "I do not fight for some selfish gain because I actually have something worth protecting. If I don't fight, who will? I–"
"Go back to fixing your broken legacy–Mothman," Thomas cuts him off, shooting his arm forward, a powerful stream of clear corrosive sprays towards Edward like a wave. "The world's already moved on without you."
"Hydros," Edward yells out, pointing the tip of his blade forward. "Water shield: Ph 12." Edward's blade turns into a liquid form, creating a massive barrier, protecting him. The acidic wave crashes with the shield causing it to disperse all over the narrow corridor. The walls hiss loudly as the intricate patterns turn into a discolored powdery texture.
Thomas' eyes grow wider as his acid is slowly being diluted by the second. Droplets fly out like projectiles slightly burning Edward as he protects himself from the corrosive wave. Suddenly two air slashes slice through Thomas' back.
Turning his head, Thomas oversees Zhang slowly crouched down with his katana outstretched. Edward appears in front of Thomas in a smear of motion, his blade raised in a powerful arc.
Swinging his arm forward, Thomas' metal gauntlet blocks Edward's blade. A loud metallic sound rings in Edward's ear as Thomas kicks him forward with a thud. Zhang's fingers curl around his hilt, rushing in with a delicate precision. Emerging in an instant, he twirls his katana in mid-air to deflect any oncoming attacks.
Raising his gauntlets in time, the force of the collision rattles all over Thomas' arm. Using the strike's energy against Zhang to deflect it to his side. As the blade is pushed off course, Thomas moves in with a sudden spinning kick directed at Zhang's chest.
The force pushes Zhang off balance for a brief moment allowing Thomas to maintain the upper hand. Outstretching his hands forward, Thomas crouches down on his knees. Zhang strikes with two fast slashes, the first aiming for Thomas' left shoulder, the second aiming for his midsection.
Thomas parries around the first slash but is forced to twist his body sideways to dodge the second. In one swift motion, Thomas drives his metal gauntlet into Zhang's stomach, driving the wind out of him. Jabbing his elbow into Thomas' back, Zhang throws one of his katanas toward Edward.
Suddenly lifting his head, Thomas smacks the back of his hard head against Zhang's chin with a brutal headbutt. He drops his remaining katana on the cold marbled floor. Not wasting a second, Zhang leaves with a wide arc, chopping Thomas' neck. As the assassin clutches his neck trying to breathe, Zhang continues the pressure.
He leads with a slap across the Acid King's face then with a powerful punch against his cheek. He doesn't stop the momentum as each slap and chop flows from the previous, creating an endless barrage.
Stepping forward, Zhang closes the distance, leaving with a palm strike to Thomas' chin, knocking his head back for a second. Swinging his leg, he strikes Thomas' knee like a lash of lightning before ending with a three chop–one to the neck and two to the chest.
With a sharp flick, Thomas flings his arm forward sending pressurized acid spraying across the corridors like a ruptured pipe.
"Water shield: Ph.12," Edward screams out, summoning a barrier to protect Zhang from the incoming projectiles. The corrosive wave hisses upon contact with the water as it breaks down into harmless vapors. It whispers into a lullaby, thinning into obscurity.
Thomas felt his heart pound louder than his voice. His jaw clenches as his lips peel back in a snarl. The muscles in his arms coiled so tightly that it might explode.
Edward and Zhang stare off together as Thomas slowly removes his tie. His expression is detached yet scornful as he throws the piece of cloth onto the floor like it is nothing. Keeping his body low, Thomas glares at his two opponents, extending his arms forward.
Pointing the tip of their blades, Zhang and Edward both prepare for the right moment to pounce. The corridors fell into a deathly silence as no one made a move like broken statues.