Chapter 51: It's Not Over

Lyra could hear whispers. Strange voices hissed at the back of her head, suggestive sounds that filled her mind with cold, dreadful ravagings and stirred her emotions. They were haunting.

The battle between the two women was unrelenting, with each blow traded for the next. It was a battle as grand as Huey and the Elder God's, or Huey and Barrack's. The skies didn't collapse and fall, space wasn't ruptured, and mountains weren't miraculously raised from the ground.

Regardless, it was on a scale that left Hathaway, who was watching from afar, whistling in surprise. The two participants were fast and vicious, with Lyra only slightly slower. For now. But she was quickly catching up and adapting at a pace that made Tyla frown. The young woman was a monster.

A couple minutes ago, she had problems managing her Up until a couple of minutes ago, Lyra had struggled to manage her balance and maintain equilibrium. Each of her movements was made with explosive power that seemed almost boundless. Tyla had to acknowledge that Lyra's new and modified body hid incredible power; even Lyra's blunders could be lethal if Tyla weren't careful.

But as time passed, those death-threatening blunders slowly ceased and became minimal. Lyra was quickly growing used to her new strength and body and was beginning to embrace it wholly. Quite frankly, it took far less time than Tyla had expected. The constant pressure applied by Tyla during their exchanges had forced Lyra to master her body more quickly.

In the end, experience was unmatchable. But there was something else—something Lyra discovered, like a sudden epiphany or enlightenment, during the fight.

"Just don't think about it!"

She left it all to instinct. She stopped trying to tell her body what to do and instead let it move on its own. She didn't consider her next actions or her next steps; she simply embraced all of the barbarity with open hands. Once she did, not only did she manage to slowly gain control and understanding of her body, but her blows became more precise and focused.

As the fight continued, Lyra found herself relishing the clash of fists, flesh, sweat, bones, and blood. All of the dark and serious feelings she held at the beginning quickly dissolved and vanished, leaving behind only pure, dark, and twisted ecstasy. The longer the fight went on, the faster Lyra's heart beat, and the more powerful she seemed to grow.

Tyla was no different. She soon got over her initial shock and surprise at Lyra's unnatural adaptability. As a warrior bred by the Ntuli Tribe, she was raised to enjoy the sweat of battle.

But alas, in the end, Lyra was still 'learning' her body. As much as it seemed like the two women were almost equal from an outside perspective, it wasn't strength or speed that determined the fight.

Cold and ruthless experience drew the line. Tyla had a wild grin and unrestrained ferocity burning in her azure eyes. The steel chains coiled around her fists pulsed with an ominous azure radiance. Her movements were explosive, her fists flashing toward Lyra's midsection and shattering through the air.

The impact was resounding. Tyla recognized the familiar sensation of shattering rib bones. To Lyra, it was almost like being hit by a truck or a battering ram. She wanted to gasp but couldn't; all the air had been knocked out of her lungs, and her eyes threatened to bulge from their sockets.

Lyra's fair face drained of all color immediately as her world flashed black. She crashed into the ground, rolled, and tumbled to a stop, cradling her midsection in trembling pain. She wanted to cough and gasp for breath, but her shattered ribs wouldn't let her. Instead, puddles of thick red blood coughed out of her mouth.

All of a sudden, Lyra felt cold. Tyla's blow had seemingly smashed all the strength from her body. She found it hard to move, hard to get up. All the rising intensity she had felt in her limbs since the beginning was gone, nowhere to be found.

"Wh... what...?" Lyra shifted and shuffled against the floor, thick trails of saliva mixed with blood trickling from her mouth and lips. The pain was excruciating. Half of her ribs had been shattered by that one blow. She wanted to pass out but couldn't.

As she struggled to get up, she heard Tyla's cold and aloof voice. It was steady, flat, and scornful. "Are you done?" Tyla spat the words out as she peered down. Her azure eyes glinted with disdain, yet a small smirk angled up one side of her lips.

"I am better!" Tyla clenched her fists.

This was it. That was all she needed. In the end, with a core or not, she had proven she was stronger and better. To Tyla, strength determined the worth of a person, and she was stronger than Lyra. This meant Lyra was undeserving of someone as powerful as Huey and was only there to leech off him. The Natives of the Apocalypse, especially the Ntuli Tribe, saw such behavior as disdainful.

Weak blood was not allowed and was treated with contempt. They were shunned and ostracized. That was why Tyla could hold nothing but contempt for someone like Lyra.

No, for Lyra herself.

Tyla's shoulders trembled slightly as she restrained a laugh. In the end she let out only a small breath and pushed back her feral bangs with grace.

The battle savage maniacal expression she had on a second earlier was no more. She had reverted to her usual, cold, aloof yet graceful visage once more.

Tyla shifted on her feet and snorted.

To her, the match was over.

___ ___

Hathaway watched the fight from his monitors and sighed deeply. He took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with a small rag as he lamented, "I told them to take it easy."

He had agreed to the notion of the two ladies having a duel, but it wasn't to resolve whatever grievance they had. The way it turned out, nothing was settled, and only more seeds of discord were sown instead.

Hathaway judged it to be a suitable opportunity to discover any changes or effects in Lyra's mental, physical, or emotional condition. There were a few he had noticed, like Lyra's sudden ferocity and aggressiveness during the fight. But he had no way of knowing if that was a new personality shift or if Lyra had always had it deep inside her, and the transplant only managed to unearth it.

"Whatever the case might be, I'll address it later. For now, I guess it's over," he sighed again and got up. He was prepared to call on his assistant and a few helpers to retrieve his patient when he suddenly stopped and looked toward a particular screen in his office.

Hathaway lingered. The silence drew on. He took off his glasses again, wiped the lenses once more, and his grey eyes deepened. Then he said in a deep, low voice, "Looks like we have visitors." It was almost a whisper, but it resonated in the still silence of his office and personal space.

Right there, on the monitor, was a video feed from a security camera set up at one of the entrances to the tribe's underground civilization from above.

"Barak and the others should have noticed, so it should be fine." Hathaway muttered and slowly looked away for the meantime.

He had no intention of presenting himself to those people. Not yet at least. He would leave it all up the the Natives, and find out their reason for being here later.

Although he might have an idea what it may be.

At that point, Hathaway's thoughts drifted, but the sudden beeping from a device brought him back to reality. He jolted, jerking his head from side to side, and finally landed his gaze on his tablet. It was the same one that displayed Lyra's vitals.

He quickly picked it up and scrolled across the wide screen. All of a sudden, Hathaway froze for a few seconds, and his eyes slowly widened. Then he drew his gaze back to the monitor he had been watching earlier, the one with the fight.

Something... something was happening.

___ ___

Tyla turned her back to leave, deeming the sparring exchange over and her victory secured. She had confirmed her superiority and strength; she no longer had anything else to do with Lyra. She was better, and that was all that mattered.

"Wh...where do you think you're going, you silver bitch?" Lyra's voice came slowly, laced with unsteady laughter as she struggled to her feet.

Tyla turned around slowly, her expression cold. "So you can still stand after all. Well, it doesn't matter at this point. The match is over."

But Lyra's laughter was fleeting, her shoulders trembling.

The match was over?

Over?

What match?

Who said so?

...When?

Lyra let out a ragged breath, but wisps of violet flames escaped her lips. She raised her head, her sapphire eyes turning into blinding amethyst radiance. In the next moment, she burst into ferocious violet flames that roared into the sky, spreading through the environment like a rolling wave across the ocean.

Lyra smiled from within the sea of flames. "Hahaha! It's not over until I say it is!"

It was only beginning.