You Already Won

Jack stretched as he stepped into the strange building. The city outside had the bones of New York style city—now it looked like something out of an apocalypse movie.

The building itself was a bizarre cube-bowl hybrid, the kind of architectural nonsense you only saw when someone wanted to make the fantasy setting pop. He hoped it would also pop out a new cloak or something—anything to fix his current "Team Friendship ruined my cool clothes" situation.

His last fight had forced him to unleash an attack that was… let's just say unkind to both them and his wardrobe. Now he was shirtless, his once-pants reduced to shorts, and barefoot. His swords stayed tucked away in storage. Looking innocent and vulnerable? That was a tactic.

A gem tracker—liberated from some unlucky group at some point—pinged faint traces of a purple gem. The signal pointed to the basement.

Then he felt it: Ryun spikes, the floor trembling like the building had a heartbeat. A second later, the gem signature blinked out.

"That sucks," he murmured, though the smile on his face said otherwise. Whatever was happening down there, it sounded fun.

Being strong had its perks. Like treating an event—hell, an entire disaster—like it was just another game.

One thing the all-powerful Jack couldn't do? Tell where the hell the basement was.

He could blast his way down, sure—but he was strong, not stupid. And the faint auras he felt below included one that had just… been snuffed out. Not the best time to start making a lot of noise.

After playing Which Door Leads to the Prize for what felt like forever, he finally found a stairwell he hadn't tried yet. It went down. And when something goes down? You follow it. That's just good game sense.

He descended at an easy pace, resisting the urge to whistle. Whoever was down here, maybe he could use them—assuming they weren't lugging around many gems already. Funny thing for a gem-nabbing event: way too many people didn't even have gems.

As luck (and his obviously brilliant deduction skills) would have it, the stairs ended at a plain basement door. Jackpot.

He reached for the handle—then froze. There was an odd aura clinging to it, wrong in a way that made the hair on his arms rise. Slowly, he backed away.

Hmm…

From his storage, he pulled out a flaming sphere he'd stolen from that one fire-throwing girl in that guy's overstuffed harem party. Her flames had been a boring orange. But with Jack's Dimensional Echo Authority, he'd refined them into something far nastier. Now the flame burned violet-blue, humming with lethal heat, melting the walls just by existing in his palm.

Jack grinned and lobbed it at the door. If they were holed up down there, it meant one of two things:

A) they needed time to rest, or

B) there was only one way in.

Or maybe he was wrong entirely—but that didn't matter.

The flame smashed into the door, which sagged and hissed before exploding backward. A hidden iron barrier flared to life, spitting arcs of deadly Ryun energy. It held for one desperate second—then the violet-blue fireball blew straight through, detonating into the basement in a storm of heat and light.

The next thing that happened was… odd.

As Jack stepped forward, he dug into his storage and pulled out a flash grenade—or something like one. Honestly, he wasn't sure. The original owner hadn't been in a position to give him full instructions… or any instructions.

He tossed it into the room and grinned when it went off.

Movement.

He smirked. "Easy to make rats scurry when—ooooh, woah, holy shit!"

It had no head.

A headless figure in a tattered, scorched blue-orange robe staggered into view.

Zombie?! That was his first thought—right up until the thing lunged and, without warning, exploded.

It wasn't a small blast. The next thing Jack knew, he was outside the building, ears ringing, vision spinning, and wondering how he'd gone from MC to human cannonball in three seconds flat.

"That… was some explosion."

Then came the bullets—shredding through the smoke and walls. Jack flicked up a Ryun shield, the impacts sparking harmlessly off its surface. He dusted himself off with an exaggerated sigh.

"Everyone's so rude nowa—"

A rocket slammed into the shield, rattling the air. It didn't do much… but now he was pissed. Not because of the hit—it barely scuffed him—but because the collapsing building's debris created a cloud of thick smoke, and someone had tossed in gas canisters for good measure.

"Okay. No more games."

He pressed two fingers together and released a sharp burst of pure Ryun. The wave shredded the smoke and carried his aura outward—touching everything in its reach.

Three signatures flared in his mind.

First—an Outlander. He'd gotten good at spotting them, and why? Because unknown to most people, Outlanders and natives have different auras. It wasn't easy to track or tell… More proof he was the Main Character.

The other two, though… those made him hesitate. One burned with pure, unshakable intent that nearly made him flinch. The other radiated something ancient—old in a way that reminded him of the time he'd barely escaped a pregnant sea god. Not his fault. Long story.

Jack's smirk sharpened.

"Well, well, well."

Silence.

It stretched. And stretched.

"…Okay, you're supposed to respond here. What is this?"

"You wit' Caelus, blood?" Jamal asked, eyes narrowed.

"Who?" Jack tilted his head.

"Brotha, I'm not repeating myself. If you want revenge for Danyel—"

"Who's Danyel?"

Silence.

"…Is that the person you murdered and booby-trapped?"

More silence.

Jack chuckled. "Y'all are evil. But I'm just here for a gem—a purple one, if you'd be so kind."

Crisper and Jamal exchanged a glance.

"Shit broke, blood," Jamal muttered.

He already figured that out when the gem signature disappeared. But the way this guy talked… "Blood?" Jack grinned. "Ohhh, you're a gangster. That's crazy. I know y'all don't leave your hoods or whatever—"

"Please shut up," Crisper groaned, raising her rifle.

Jack wagged a finger. "I wouldn't do that. So far, I'm on a win streak. And I see you trying to creep around me, blondie—" He shifted his gaze to Destiny, smirking. "Or… silver? Huh. A super blonde."

Destiny smirked back and lifted her rifle.

Jack sighed. "Well… can't say I didn't try to be friendly."

Jack raised his hand, and the air changed. Then three odd things happen at once.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

First: the sound of hooves. Three silver horses tearing across the ruined streets like they'd been cut from a fairytale.

Second: a distant shockwave, rolling through the air like an unseen tide.

Third: Jamal's arm sliding around Jack's shoulders.

Jack blinked.

"When—?"

He'd fought speedsters before. Time-benders. Short-range teleporters. This wasn't that. Jamal's afterimages lingered in ways that didn't make sense—like the space between each frame was bent, not skipped.

But those questions could wait.

The riders were here.

They dismounted in perfect unison, their presence pressing down like a storm front. And in the middle—the blue-haired one with eyes like molten gold—looked at Jack with an expression that could peel flesh from bone.

"Where's Danyel?!" Caelus demanded. His eyes swept the wreckage, locking on Jack and Jamal—no sign of his comrade. The building was half-gone, the air still hot from the blast. His pulse spiked.

"She dead, blood," Jamal said flatly.

"What?!" Caelus's aura flared, a pressure like crushing steel.

"Yeah—" Jamal slapped Jack's shoulder. "My man here wasted shawty. Blew her head off, then the rest. Didn't leave enough for a funeral."

"Wait, no—" Jack started, but Jamal shoved him forward.

"Fuck 'em up!" Jamal raised his rifle, teeth bared.

Caelus's men moved in without a word, their formation tightening. Jack sighed when he saw Caelus draw his blade. He'd fought plenty of swordsmen. And then it hit—dread, pure and suffocating, rolling toward him like a tidal wave. None of them felt like this before.

Caelus stepped in to swing.

Destiny and Crisper opened fire first, their rifles cracking in rapid bursts. Caelus's men staggered but kept advancing, forcing Jamal to dive into the fray and add his own barrage of bullets.

Meanwhile, Caelus and Jack closed the distance.

Jack summoned his twin greatswords in a flare of violet-blue light, steel crossing just in time to catch Caelus's opening strike—

—but a phantom edge of blue energy ripped clean past the block, carving into Jack's side. Blood sprayed across the cracked street.

Jack hissed and leapt back, but Caelus was already there, another slash arcing toward his neck.

Xitgen—the one wreathed in faint coils of flame Ryun—lashed his long, sinuous tail across the ground with a whip-crack, the impact denting the concrete. He exhaled a jet of fire, forcing Jamal and Destiny to dive apart as heat shimmered across their rifles. Using what seemed to be cars and small random objects as cover. He wasn't letting them enter any buildings.

Decfare, broader and heavier, stepped through the haze with four blackened horns crowning his head. Mirror swords of pure Ryun formed around him in a widening circle, spinning lazily before darting toward the trio like spears.

Destiny and Jamal fired in unison, their shots pinging off summoned blades or forcing Xitgen back between tail strikes. Crisper stayed in motion—roll, throw, bang—grenades concussing the area in bursts of light and sound. The stuns bought them seconds. She glanced at her HUD. 9:00 until evac.

Her jaw tightened. If she was being honest, that might as well have been an hour with the way the fight was going.

A shockwave ripped through the city, a boom that sent everyone sprawling, collapsing buildings and sinking parts of the street. Dust and hot air blasted across them, stinging eyes and ringing ears.

Crisper rolled onto her side just in time to see it—off to the right, a storm of blue slashes tearing through the air like a living current. Each arc left a ghostly trail before it slammed into whatever Jack tried to summon—greatswords, shields, walls of Ryun—all shredded in seconds. Sparks and fragments of violet-blue Ryun flared and died as the cutting swarm pressed closer.

Jack's grin was gone now, Caelus's blade work had shifted into an advanced form, each motion producing a concentrated arc of blue energy. These arcs accumulate into a swarm of high-velocity slashes, their trajectories weaving through the battlefield with surgical precision.

Jack's constructs were being systematically dismantled. Each slash cleaves through his defenses as though they were insubstantial, the residual force cutting through land, air, and whatever plans Jack had. The repeated impacts create a constant staccato of rupturing air and cracking stone.

Jack hurled himself forward with twin blades drawn. A horizontal arc split the ground, forcing Caelus to sidestep, but Jack quickstepped to intervene—his second sword stabbing low, then uppercutting. Sparks erupted as Caelus deflected with the flat of his blade, his body shifting like mist.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Not bad, pretty boy."

Caelus didn't answer. His blade moved instead.

A sudden triple-slash—first diagonal, then mirrored, then a half-second-delayed phantom cut that bloomed across Jack's side like blue fire. Jack grunted, stumbling back. Blood hit the fractured street.

Jack responded with a spinning cross-slam, his Ryun coating one blade in density and the other in acceleration. Caelus blocked both—but the second blow was heavier than it looked, forcing him to lean and drag his foot.

Jack surged in. A knee to the ribs. A rising elbow. A slash aimed at the neck—

—but Caelus vanished. Flicker step. Then reappeared behind him with a ghostly backslash, just missing him. Another afterimage followed it, crossing Jack's chest with a phantom arc.

He tumbled, caught himself, and swore.

"Motherfu—"

Caelus pressed. Three more slashes rippled out, the third leaving behind a glowing echo that repeated all three at once. Jack was already mid-swing when the phantom blades hit from the same direction again, forcing him to block twice.

"Alright!" Jack roared, slamming both swords into the ground, triggering a burst of Ryun shockwaves.

Caelus spun away—his foot dragging glyphs into the dirt as blue slashes whirled around him in a full circle. Ryun pillars erupted in sequence, popping like timed traps, one after the next.

Jack skidded, barely avoiding the center of the spiral. He was bleeding in two places now.

Still standing.

Still smirking.

"Okay, okay," Jack muttered, raising both swords again. "Maybe I do need to get serious." He stared down Caelus, who didn't even look winded. His blade was steady.

The smile on Jack's face didn't reach his eyes.

Beneath the surface, a sliver of unease carved itself into his gut. Three cuts. That's all Caelus had landed.

Three.

But every single one made the knot in his stomach tighter and tighter.

"He fights like one of those over-designed mobile MMORPG bosses," Jack muttered, flexing his shoulders. "Flashy as hell. And if even one full combo lands, I'm done."

He didn't know how he knew—he just did. Instinct screamed that Caelus's swordplay didn't operate on normal logic. Whatever danced inside those cuts wasn't just Ryun. It was lethal.

He reached into the space to the side of him.

[Dimensional Echo Inventory Accessed]

Six pieces slotted themselves onto his body in flickers of light—gleaming scraps of gear earned from kills, events, and gambles across the worlds he visited. Chestplate from the Burning Operien Trials. Bracers taken off a molten tyrant. Greaves stolen from a fleeing bishop during the Last Chichicten Raid.

And then came the Helm Of Nuxoc—fused bone and starlight. The moment it clasped on, the world changed.

The colors dimmed. Not from shadow, but distortion—Jack's Dimensional Echo Authority leaking into reality like static.

Blue became duller. Red twisted toward magenta.

Sound dampened, except for Caelus's heartbeat—which pulsed like a war drum.

And the world… stuttered. Just slightly.

Jack blinked at the casual look on the man's face. It pissed him off. He then created two illusory clones from stored battle data, each using a unique past fighting style. Then a corkscrew blade that destabilizes defense by cutting the air in four dimensions. Lastly, one of his favorite hacks—Rulebreaker Edge. It temporarily ignores durability and shielding effects from sources below Jack's Echo Level.

He sent all three abilities at once.

Caelus stood still.

The moment they neared, he flicked his sword sideways, dispersing them without a second thought.

Jack's real body felt the slice—across his thigh, just above the knee. Then a heartbeat later, another cut slid across his side, even cleaner than the first.

Jack shot back, greaves skidding in a spiral across the street, through four——five——six buildings.

He was breathing hard now.

Not from exhaustion.

But from something colder. He could feel it.

Death.

Jack exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing beneath his helmet. He rolled his shoulder, blood still trailing from his side as he stepped back into position. His smile had disappeared. Not from pain—he'd been gutted before. This was worse.

This was pressure.

Caelus hadn't said a word. Hadn't shown a hint of effort. And yet, every step he took, the world bent with it.

Jack spat to the side. "Alright, let's play ball!"

He reached into his Dimensional Echo Inventory and ripped out a lance wrapped in black cloth, its tip leaking wisps of sickly green mist. The air around it distorted, curling away like it had been insulted. The lance hissed as he gripped it, each breath from its core warping the space between atoms. Next, a chime echoed faintly. Then again. Then again. Jack pulled out a handful of silver bells, each dangling from an ethereal blue chain. He shook them once and dropped them midair.

They hung there. Vibrating and ringing to a tune only he could hear.

And from them the wraiths came—shadows flickering to life, forming from places that didn't exist in this realm, wrapping themselves in silence and malice. They circled behind him like a pack of hunters waiting for the leash to snap.

And yet… none of it mattered.

Jack felt it.

Wherever Caelus walked, his sword's presence erased Jack's tricks. The spear Jack had summoned—gone the moment the blade passed. His wraiths? Scattered like smoke when Caelus had simply swung in their direction. Even Jack's Authority couldn't mimic anything the man did. His Echo steal—the very core of how he grew stronger—failed the moment he tried to imprint Caelus's movement or aura.

"You're a goddamn glitch dude… and that's supposed to be my thing," Jack growled under his breath.

This wasn't a fight. This was a mismatch.

Which left only one option.

Jack gritted his teeth and slammed both palms together. Ryun flared from his armor, his weapons, the ground beneath him. His own version of a limit break—a move he hadn't named because naming it felt like jinxing it. Hence what happened to Haruki.

He started stacking.

Aura Overdrive.

Echo Cascade Boost.

Godsgrip Reflex Chains.

Dimensional Inventory Lock Override.

The wind went still. Even the ringing bells cut to silence.

Caelus tilted his head, finally registering something worth acknowledging. And then—

SLASSSSSSSSHHHHH!!

A blur. A wave of blue aura, coming straight for Jack's chest.

Another followed before Jack even blinked.

He just jumped back, hand pressed to his chest, eyes wide, as everything in front of him, the street, buildings, severed and sunk.

He felt death again.

It was crawling up his spine, whispering through his bones. And for the first time in a long time…

Jack was afraid.

Meanwhile, in the city streets a couple blocks away…

Jamal's warning ripped from his throat.

"D! DUCK!!"

Destiny turned—too slow. She had been shielding Crisper, rifle up, barrel smoking, blood on her hands still warm.

She saw it. The flash of grey Ryun. The sharpened edge coming straight for her head.

Shit—too late. I can't—

She couldn't dodge completely—not at this angle, not with Crisper behind her. Her only option was to minimize the kill.

If she tilted her head just right, the blade would miss her brain. Definitely rip apart of her cheek, and her eye, but she didn't have time—

A flash of green cut across her vision.

Thunk.

Not the sound of impact—interruption.

The sword didn't hit her. Instead, it deflected, skidding midair.

Destiny blinked.

Was that… an arrow?