Deus in Machina (a Warhammer 40K-setting inspired LitRPG)

Angar hurtled across the dueling ring's stone, blood trickling from some blaster wounds, welling from others.

Pain raked his body, clawing at his mind, and his vision wavered through the Infernus Oculus implant as blood from the hit he took on his forehead seeped into it, making it struggle to pierce beyond.

Zhaeryn Vexn glided further away with his twin pistols resting lightly in his hands, spitting fire as he danced back, some alien energy coiling around him with unseen power.

The crowd's murmurs faded into a dull roar in Angar's ears, drowned out by the pounding of his own heartbeat, and the cold and insidious whispers of doubt slithering into his mind.

Vexn was countering his every move, turning everything around, always escaping to safety. Each retreat fueled Angar's resolve. This alien thrived on bending chance to his will, just a well-studied coward cloaked in cunning.

As Angar spun through the air avoiding blasts as best he could, another hit grazed along his thigh, seared painfully along the skin.

His grip tightened on the power hammer as he shifted course, rolling sideways across the stone, vowing he'd land at least one shattering blow before his death. The Lord demanded blood, and Angar swore the chamber's stone would drink deep before he fell, a vow etched in his soul.

He couldn't outlast Vexn's relentless pistols at range. He needed to close the distance, get and stay in close, where his hammer could smash the strange silvery armor apart. Then he'd sink it into the Pleiadean's creepy face and watch those frigid eyes dim with lifelessness.

Then he'd sink it in again, over and over, until there was not enough of that creepy head left to sink his maul into.

Lightning Strike was ready, but Ground Current needed a few seconds more, and a plan sparked in his mind.

He wove through the barrage with acrobatic precision, doing well avoiding the shots, until he didn't.

A searing blast tore into his back, a fire that ripped through his unarmored flesh with terrible force, hurling him into a chaotic tumble across the stone. The impact jolted his bones, and sent his blood splattering the ancient stone like a martyr's offering.

A fresh salvo blazed toward him, streaks of incandescent death scorching the air with lethal purpose. He couldn't avoid them.

But he didn't need to. His form unraveled into a storm of charged particles, crackling tendrils of lightning that surged through the stone itself.

Angar erupted from the ground in a burst of lightning and righteous fury, the air crackling with the stench of burnt flesh and vengeance. Like a storm incarnate, he materialized behind Vexn, his hammer arcing through the air as he unleashed a bellowing roar that shook the ancient walls.

But the Pleiadean had vanished, slipped away again, not merely displaced, but gone entirely, erased from sight and sense.

Completely gone.

Just as Angar had expected.

The more powerful the Ability, the longer its cooldown. That was how the Holy System worked, and there were very few exceptions.

Two of Zhaeryn Vexn's powers were well known. Those were Wrathful Withdrawal and Shrouded Retribution.

It was thought he had three Abilities, but the Pleiadean had four, and Angar now knew them all. Unless he had a fifth.

One, an Ability-ender, had extinguished Tempest the instant it roared to life, halting his whirlwind assault. The other, an Ability-reset Vexn had been forced to use on Wrathful Withdrawal when Angar shrugged off Mind Flay so quickly, driving the alien to retreat and regain distance from his foe.

Shrouded Retribution cloaked Vexn from all perception for up to three seconds, amplifying his next strike's potency.

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Angar admired the Pleiadean's speed, amazed he had evaded the three-meter radius of Geomagnetic Phenomena and the stun so quickly. He had slipped free, unscathed, as taking damage would've ended the shroud, as would attacking.

The alien was blazing fast.

When Vexn reappeared, Angar knew he'd be shooting his blaster.

Harc had explained that this blaster lacked the semi-automatic or fully automatic firing modes of auto-blasters, instead being a single-shot weapon, packing the most power a blaster could muster, with its strength edging close to the lower end of a lancer's devastating single-shot capacity.

Lancers were much better suited to the role Vexn employed this blaster for, making it another deception.

With a groan that wasn't entirely feigned, Angar clutched his missing eye and stumbled forward, letting his hammer dip as if his strength were failing.

Then he activated Lightning Strike, and prepared.

Maybe Vexn took the bait. Maybe Shrouded Retribution had lasted the full three seconds. Angar didn't know for certain, but the Pleiadean materialized over ten meters to his side, like a rakar scenting a wounded prey's blood, blaster clasped in both hands, its barrel erupting in an explosion of searing light.

The damage shield burst as Angar surged forward, pouring every ounce of his battered frame into the sprint.

Vexn retreated a step, firing again, this shot barely avoided by Angar as he closed the distance.

The crystalline compartment on Vexn's forearm split open, revealing the violet crystal once more.

A surge of psionic, alien energy erupted through the air, as the Pleiadean unleashed Mind Control, a vicious psychic assault that clawed into Angar's mind, sending spectral tendrils digging, seeking to crush his will in an iron grip.

His thoughts wavered as voices hissed in alien tongues, burrowing deep, demanding control, gnawing away at his resolve.

But Angar's blood roared louder, breaking the Pleiadean's psychic chains, shattering the intrusion like brittle glass. His relentless stride faltered only a moment, his righteous fire burning brighter, his hammer thirsty for blood, unwilling to let his enemy escape again.

With glowing conduits on its head distorted with gravitational warping, the maul tore through the air in a merciless arc towards the Pleiadean.

Swift and unyielding, Vexn, with both hands on his blaster, held the weapon out like a shield, ready to catch the haft of the crushing blow.

The Pleiadean stood much taller than Angar. Taller, but not stronger. The block barely slowed the weapon crashing into the alien's left shoulder with a resounding crack, empowered by both the graviton pulse amplification and Lightning Strike.

A lightning bolt lashed out toward the alien. Maybe it was fully or partially resisted, but it didn't matter.

Crusader Armor came in light, medium, and heavy variants, all forged from galvornium, a metal renowned for its exceptional durability and resistance to all types of damage.

But, when the hammer struck Vexn, it was like he wasn't wearing Crusader Armor at all, as the blow caved the armor inward, crumpling the shoulder plate with a loud crunch.

Vexn's left arm fell slack and hung dead, the blaster slipping from his grasp as he leapt back, his violet crystal flaring again, unleashing Pin in a desperate bid to trap Angar.

The psychic grip seized him for a split instant before he tore free, only for Push to shove him sliding back some meters in its wake.

Vexn hurled pellets to the stone, spawning a thick smoke cloud he sought to vanish within. Determined to deny his foe escape, Angar channeled an Energy Point into his maul and hurled it toward the fading silhouette.

A pistol shot burrowed into Angar's furred forearm, the sting barely felt, as a clang and a pained grunt from Vexn confirmed the hammer's strike.

Crusader Armor helms boasted a myriad of abilities via installed mods. Common ones pierced obstructions like smoke or offered infrared sight.

Assuming Vexn's visor granted such vision, and could see Angar, while the reverse wasn't true, he still had no choice and plunged into the smoke cloud.

More pistol shots blazed forth, streaks of lights vivid through the haze. With his power hammer lost in the cloud, he had two hands free, and caught each blast on his leonine forearms, their strange resilience shrugging off the barrage. And a diminished barrage as Vexn's firepower halved from being down an arm.

Lightning Strike ticked off cooldown, its power ready to go, but Angar held it in reserve.

His pursuit nearly faltered as his boot snagged his maul's haft. That was a lucky find. He snatched it up with his right hand, blocking a blaster bolt with his left forearm, remembering who he was, where he came from, his glorious ancestors, that he was the son of a mighty king.

He had been forged in trials far worse than this.

The Harmongulan tested him sorely, as did its venom, and he had emerged victorious. The Phasorax, slayer of mighty Saints like Kragor the Hellcleaver, had fallen before him.

As long as an ember of defiance burned within his chest, victory was always a possibility. Vexn was just another enemy, another challenge to overcome, more blood to offer the Lord in sacred tribute.

He had only landed one true blow, but that had crippled his opponent's arm. He didn't know if the hammer throw did much or any damage, but that had hit too.

His body bore the duel's brutal toll, far more ravaged than Vexn's, but the tide had shifted.

The crowd's roar erupted, sensing that shift in the match. Angar had turned certain doom into a crucible of fate, the winner uncertain. At the least, he'd give these people a show like none other.