Kraiten.2

Boom.

An explosion sounded.

Jack and Deylor both got up and looked each other in the eyes.

"That sounds dangerous." Jack spoke as he grabbed his Katana from his ring.

"You're right about that." Deylor replied as he pulled his trusted knife from beside his bed.

They opened the door.

Bang.

The wall on their left bent from the impact before imploding.

A masked man with the number 5 rolled on the floor as he saw 2 bright, blue eyes and a thick red silhouette in the darkness.

His left side was bruised but he was still more than vigorous.

No words were spoken.

The masked man quickly released a handful of wired-kunais, their corrosive natures prominent.

Deylor blurred around them before landing on the back wall. He swiftly blurred until his dagger pierced the masked mans back.

Krercht.

Blood burst before it corroded green.

It formed 8 spider limbs that closed swiftly.

Deylor widened his eyes in horror.

He had been had.

Jack rushed in from the front his sword gleaming with bright-blue energy.

The spider-legs retreated into the ground.

A spike formed.

Jack right before the strike did the only thing he could.

He released a powerful burst of energy from his Katana as the force ragdolled him towards the left.

The masked man released a crescent wave of poisoned blood towards Deylor he blurred upwards before he found the masked mans arm on his neck.

He wasn't the only one who had fast feet.

As Deylor was grabbed by the neck the masked man pummeled his stomach.

Deylor smirked.

The vast energy surrounding his body sharpened.

The man punched once more.

Blood spilt.

For the worst.

Jack who zoomed in from behind met 5 poisoned-blood spears.

They honed in on him.

The momentum drove him forward.

To his soon-to-come death.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

3 trails of blue formed as 3 small daggers had flew to his rescue.

The masked man quickly combined the spears to create a lance.

He prepared to dig the lance into Deylors body.

Deylor turned the dense energy around his neck into a field of spikes.

The masked man felt his hand pierce.

He smiled like a maniac.

He controlled his blood to ki-.

His blood was gone.

And on the blurred after-image of Deylor lay a ring.

A dimensional ring.

Jack, on his sword held his hand out to Deylor.

Deylor grasped his hand in his before a force propelled the two away.

The masked man gritted his teeth.

He opened the door.

Spluurt.

His blood spurted like a fountain. His arm layed on the floor. Cold.

A sharp white trail had been left.

He swiftly moved his blood to form a lance but before the lance could even move a centimeter.

Spluurt.

His other arm fell.

A fountain of blood sprinkled.

He formed another lance before sending them at his robed opponent.

Spluurt.

Red spurted in front of him.

As he slowly met the cold rock floor.

The robed-man put his sword back into its sheath.

On his robe lay a badge.

The badge exclaimed.

Teacher of Swordsmanship.

Yes, this robed individual was actually the teacher of the swordsmanship classes at the academy.

A hand placed on his shoulder.

A cheery voice arose.

" 1 lay-"

A severed hand lay on his shoulder as he brushed it off.

The masked individual with the number 3 stared in hesitation.

"Get him, 7." His voiced now icy and his tone full of hints of anger.

A bulky masked figure appeared on the other side of the room. He jumped down from the top corner of the room as his finger touched the floor.

As his finger graced the floor, the floor quickly rotated. Before the swordsmanship teacher could even lift a finger, a hand moved towards his neck.

Slash.

A mark lay on the wall.

"One less rotation and I would be a goner. He's dangerous." Number 7 spoke in a serious tone.

Number 3 spoke next.

"Just flank him, one touch from either of us and he's head."

"Alright." 7 responded hesitantly.

The floor once again rotated.

A hand found itself on the robed mans shoulders.

A severed hand.

A severed fake hand. As the robed man could only urge his body to move, the masked man bearing the number 3 rushed towards him..

His remaining arm outstretched.

Slash.

A slash engraved on the wall where it lay.

"His skill is non-contact slashes. He can make a slash appear if his body pays 10 times the energy toll it would normally cost. No wonder we thought he was so fast."

The man bearing the 3 spoke arrogantly.

The robed man shook slightly but replied calmly.

"Even if you know my ability, can you even defeat it?"

"I wonder." 3 spoke as he blurred.

The robed man formed a slice.

It engraved on the wall behind it.

The man bearing the mask of 3 rushed forwards.

The robed man formed another slash however none of his attacks landed as the room rotated before a slash could hit its target.

3 landed on the ground, a light cloud of dust formed.

The swordsmanship teacher took his chance.

A slash formed.

It aimed for the heart.

It missed.

How? The swordsmanship teacher thought in confusion.

It had parted the masked mans low chest.

It was as if, the room had risen.

Or rather, the floor had layered higher.

3 used the last of his energy to boost himself towards the swordsmanship teacher.

His hand outstretched, his smile wide.

Contact was made.

"Burn." His voice echoed in the swordsmanship teachers head as his body twitched uncontrollably before he fell

Number 7 quickly appeared above him.

A maze of slashes formed.

The feeling of rotation arrived.

His slashes engraved on the ceiling.

He breathed heavily.

As he raised his sword, overflowing it with his energy. Cracks formed until it broke.

But he kept pushing the energy and keeping it intact before it took the form of the sword.

Just as he began to begin his final attack.

His body imploded.

Blood spilt the room.

Number 7 looked at the new arrivee.

He spoke cautiously.

"Number 8..."

Within Kraiten, everyone knew number 8 was the most dangerous.

His ability, energy implosion could cause high masses of energy to implode at the cost of heavy concentration and energy.

Against a dog he would probably lose but against the world's greatest superheroes? He'd give them a run for their money.

Number 8 stood in silence before he pointed west.

He spoke slowly and patiently.

"Demonic.. Energy."