Masks Part 8

Through my many brutal battles across this damned underworld, I've been able to turn intuition into instinct and, by extension, speed. Being the first to plan, act, attack, and defend saved me more than others. Very few have ever matched my speed; if they had, they always lacked in another aspect. Tonight was the exception.

Because if I didn't raise my Carbine rifle at the last possible second, Hermes would've bludgeoned my brains in with his weapon. Staring me down was a massive golden cacedus molded to the shape of two long and heavy mallets. My inner licensed medical practitioner found the motion insulting. Hermes provided the injury, though.

He immediately disarmed my rifle without missing a beat and dealt a speedy knee I barely matched. My foot instantly throbbed badly, alongside my enemy's headbutt. Because of the incline, the attack sent spiraling downhill. Along the way, I did my damnedest to roll away from Hermes' continued strikes like it was the world's deadliest game of whack-a-mole.

When I built enough speed, I drew my staff to stand up. Either way, the onslaught didn't cease as I countered blows whose speed and strength matched a force of nature. Weakness overtook my shoulder as I desperately tried to gain even the tiniest distance through some trusty smoke bombs. Only to have my projectiles instantly batted, deflected, or caught by Hermes' save for one without losing an ounce of momentum as he slipped seamlessly towards another mad dash, taking me in complete awe.

Already I could tell he was nothing like Arachne. The overblown showboat was a savant in the worst way. Smart, yes, but he only became dangerous when pressured. This guy, though? It didn't fucking matter if it was torque, acceleration, kinetic vision, or reflex; Hermes' speed reigned supreme. Plus, he had the power/technique to match.

I could already tell this guy would give me trouble on my best day, but in my current state, the gap was already getting as wide as the Grand Canyon. When my last smoke bomb was in sight, the human tornado slammed it straight to the ground, creating a split-second cover between us to shift his tempo slightly in another strong swing.

The unearthly dynamism made the hit crack back like a bullwhip, sending my staff in the air. My broken right ring finger may as well have gone with it. Blinding pain didn't stop Hermes, though, as he prepared another strike. Except this time, I could see in full view. Call it hysterical strength, peak adrenaline, survival instinct, or a near-death experience. I felt this calmness before.

So instead of facing him head-on, I leaned back at the right angle to perform the ultimate sacrifice throw. I hoped the technique could careen him to a bottomless pit, but instead, he landed right side up before speeding straight toward me. In my new state, though, I was ready, with a move that took me years to replicate.

"Shattering Palm," I whisper under my breath.

I then barely stood up and curled my fingers, compressing muscle and bone to be more compact than a diamond. And when my speedster got within range, I let my hand fly. Concussive force reverberated through Hermes's face like a shock, his speed working against him to have him skim across the ground. A low painful buzz radiated from my skeleton afterward, seizing up my body something fierce. At least with both of our respective winds knocked out of us, I tried doing James favorite pastime: stalling through talking.

"For someone who believes in doing things the old fashioned way you sure have a funny way of showing it. Using your cavalcade of crooks to kill me doesn't exactly scream confidence."

Hermes' body then twitched before groggily requip his weapons and composure.

"Maybe not but after what you did to Arachne, it was better safe than sorry. Besides their deaths were a worthy cause for bringing your head in."

"Hmph, more like your cause. With all that bullshit about micro-macro, I never thought any of you Pantheon pricks would be friends. Y'all go out for drinks between your talks of taking over the world or-."

"Something like that. Arachne and I were never friends though. I mentored him as he rose through our ranks but we never saw eye to eye much. He wanted to make a performance of everything. It was only a matter of time before his stretched strings got cut. I prefer a much more … subtle approach," He said as he raised his cacedus.

Our auras started to peak with bloodlust, heating the winter air to a boiling peak. My overcoat of blood, leaves, and dust transformed into horrid-looking armor against my next proclamation.

"So do I. Which is why after tonight. No one's going to find your body," I said through my caught second wind.

If my threat scared Hermes, he did a good job of not showing it, instead showing an ounce of respect as he took a running stance.

"We'll see."

Realizing I wouldn't tag with Gungir, I decided to bet my life on my ever-faithful sai, knowing full well that death was approaching. Whatever limits I had were surpassed a long time ago; whatever time I had left ran out long ago. To my enemies' dread-inducing sprint, I might as well have been a statue waiting to be pulverized.

Yet, I smirked nonetheless. I couldn't tell if Messenger's brain was too frazzled from my earlier attack to listen, or maybe "he" was good enough to take out his remaining men without anyone noticing. Then again, Hermes underestimated the power of an individual. Either way, I found this quote coming back to me.

"From here on out, we're your shadows."

Before we could connect again, Persona leaped out faster than both of us and leaped forth to sweep his leg and unleashed a spinning one-armed shoulder throw. Again Hermes corrected himself as he rolled back to equilibrium to stare down his opponent. I almost thought Persona was wearing his street clothes till I saw it was his outfit.

Compared to Hermes and me, Persona commanded a slightly torn-up gray hooded hexagonal textured jacket that gave light indents of extra padding with large black stripes over the sleeves and legs. They wore fingerless black gloves and gray running sneakers. His gray cargo pants were nothing compared to their white mask, which remained featureless. Despite this, Persona still emoted with no issue.

"You're not the only one who can make an entrance," he said playfully.

My confidence then instantly soared as I simply responded back.

"True but let's see if we can arrange your exit," I said happily.

"YEAH, LET'S!!," Hermes said as he zoomed forward.

A well of pity appeared in my throat at his charge, realizing he had no idea how fearsome our two weeks of teamwork made us. In perfect synchronization, the two of us kicked up a wall's worth of leaves, forming a split-second screen as we instantly pincered Hermes's blindspots with a loaded-up elbow and kick, respectively.

Undeterred, Hermes stopped on a dime and blocked both strikes. Persona then instantly grabbed hold of his right hand to unleash a kani basami, scissoring and buckling Hermes's legs instantly. Mid-fall Persona then morphed towards an arm bar to open up his upper body for me to try and pierce open with a single strike.

Unfortunately, Hermes' free hand spun his baton so fast it parried my strike.

Persona flipped out of a dangerous swipe as Hermes separated us both in spun in a dangerous cyclone of swings. He then went for the weak link: Me. A massive gold streak completely clouded my vision from on high as Hermes tried to hit me like a guillotine. He never got the chance, though, as Persona intervened double wrist lock, lowering his head enough to get hit by my vicious rising knee!

His skull shifted back like a bobblehead for a brief second. Unfortunately, he was just as persistent as I was, refusing to give in as he pushed off with a dropkick. That hit and sent me down for a while, forcing me to be a spectator as Persona pursued. Soon as my winged foe landed next to a tree, Persona immediately followed.

Entering the fray, he tried to slide-kick Hermes, only for him to jump up and try deploying a flying kick. However, Peyton dodged at the last second, rolling out of the way while keeping his body low. When they both steadied properly, I watched as the two combatants engaged in a dead staredown. Hermes didn't dare come down first this time, instead staying still as Persona sized him up.

Everything from there felt like it came from an old martial arts movie as the agent of a thousand faces performed a wrestling-style low tackle. Which immediately got interrupted by Hermes aiming a Taekwondo roundhouse. Unfortunately, Peyton fell for the bait as he narrowly dodged the feinted strike to get hit by a spinning high kick.

Persona blocked at the last second, as they relied on some Judo to hook and catch his foot. He dared not stop, though, switching towards Kali Arnis to sweep Persona's shin. The strike completely befuddled Persona as they groaned in pain while Hermes raised his mallets to smash his head in.

That's where I jumped in through my glue bombs. Without even looking, he caught the adhesive ball with his cacedus. And the others as he forcefully twirled both weapons to catch every single one. When I ran out, I immediately fired my grapple gun to follow up. Reacting accordingly, Hermes parried the claw, realizing a little too late it stuck to his left cacedus. Our deadly fight then became a climactic tug as Hermes somehow held strong.

Either way, his sheer power got me finally standing up. Realizing it was getting him nowhere, Hermes let go. The sheer recoil made me lose grip of the grapple. Giving Persona the opening, he needed to slip in like water and transform into Hermes' perfect counter. Despite clutching his thigh earlier, he leaped into a mid-air headlock.

Anger flashed across Hermes' face as he tried to use his glue-laden baton on him. The blow came up empty, though, for if our joint foe was a master of tempo, Persona was a grappling master. Shifting their center of gravity, he slightly dodged the attack and stomped on his left ankle. Their balance got lost in the scuffle as Persona scrambled to twist back and deliver a spinning headlock elbow drop.

LHermes struck a blow into Persona's elbow on the way down as the baton stuck to her jacket. It was a massively brutal hit, too, as Persona's left shoulder gave out a sickening crack amongst the snapping twigs. Hopped on adrenaline, though, they kept on as they unfurled their jacket. Hermes tried getting up using the brief window, but Persona matched him like a mirror.

In cobra-like nimbleness, he scissored around Hermes' head and launched him into a prone position before arm-locking him . The Messenger immediately tried getting out of the hold until he saw me level my Gungir pistol. The man then froze like a deer in headlights. Weariness consumed our three panting themes as I belted out a last insult.

"I wonder. Back at the store when you said that war's are won by those who are willing to lose the most. Did you ever include yourself in that equation?"

My opponent gave me a steely-eyed look before coldly responding.

"No, I never did. And I never will."

From his free arm, Hermes revealed a dreaded secret; a smoke bomb owned by yours truly. I was so drained from my earlier fights I couldn't even react fast enough, only firing into the thick cloud that had sounds of popping bones and yelled grunts. Once it was cleared, I was left with a disappointed Persona carrying a bloodied army helmet.