Vagaborn

Vagaborn heard the explosion and immediately thought they were under attack. Without hesitation, he and several other Nullborns rushed toward the scene.

When they arrived, they found Kooky pinned beneath Spam.

"What is going on here?" Vagaborn demanded.

No one answered. Instead, Spam split—creating a duplicate of himself.

"I dub you Scorn," he declared.

Emac, Paps, and Raith lay conscious but still struggling on the ground.

"Did he just name his split?" Raith muttered, disbelief in his voice. He wasn't the only one surprised.

Vagaborn frowned. "I thought they were with you."

Kooky, coughing violently as she clutched her throat, shook her head in response.

Scorn suddenly lunged at Vagaborn. But with a swift motion, Vagaborn smacked him aside with his felt hand, then followed up with a powerful punch to the chest. Scorn stumbled back but remained standing.

"It seems his splits are more durable now," Paps observed. "That punch would've torn a hole through his old ones."

Kooky sprang into action, grabbing Spam from behind. He reacted instantly, driving his elbow into her nose with a sickening crack. She recoiled, blood streaming down her face. Without hesitation, she reached up, carefully resetting the break before charging at him again.

Before she could strike, Vagaborn stepped between them.

"Do not interfere," he commanded. "He is mine."

The group stood back, watching as the battle unfolded.

Spam and Scorn moved in unison, circling Vagaborn like predators hunting for an opening. But before they could strike, Vagaborn shattered their formation—appearing in front of Scorn in an instant, grabbing him, and slamming him into the ground with bone-crushing force.

Spam retaliated, hurling a volley of blades at Vagaborn. They passed straight through him.

Paps and the others caught the knives on the other side.

"He needs to stop throwing knives at me," Paps muttered, catching a couple effortlessly.

"What's with all the running around? Let's end this quickly."

Vagaborn appeared right in front of Spam, seizing him in an instant.

Spam reacted instinctively, unleashing a flurry of blows—a thousand fists. A technique he had invented on the spot. His strikes were so fast, he might have even split extra fists to aid the assault.

But before his attacks could land, Vagaborn vanished in a puff of smoke, reappearing several feet away.

Spam didn't hesitate. He charged forward, attempting a thousand fists again. This time, his punches phased right through Vagaborn as if he were striking air.

Before Spam could react, Vagaborn grabbed him. In a blink, they were high above the battlefield.

Then, with crushing force, Vagaborn slammed him into the ground.

The impact sent shockwaves through the earth.

It all happened so fast that even Scorn struggled to follow.

Spam coughed up blood, pain radiating through his body—but he could already feel his regeneration kicking in. His broken ribs were beginning to mend.

Scorn helped Spam to his feet as they carefully planned their next move.

Vagaborn sighed, then dissolved into a thick cloud of smoke, filling the entire space.

The effect was immediate. Everyone in the room—except for the Nullborns—was overcome with uncontrollable rage.

Chaos erupted.

Friends turned on each other, attacking in blind fury. Scorn, lost in the haze, grabbed Spam by the neck. Emac fought to resist the effect, but every punch and kick he took weakened his will. Eventually, he too succumbed, throwing himself into the battle.

Raith scattered seeds across the floor, forcing them to germinate. Vines and trees erupted from the ground. One of them impaled Adam, skewering him through the chest.

On the brink of death, something within Adam awakened.

A shift in energy pulsed through the room as the Invisible Hand took over.

The rage-filled smoke dissipated instantly.

Adam's eyes flared with glowing energy. His hair turned stark white, and the aura surrounding him surged, amplifying his regenerative ability.

Vagaborn staggered back, his expression shifting. His eyes were wide—perhaps with recognition, perhaps with fear. He fell to his knees as Adam slowly approached.

Vagaborn tried to teleport away.

He couldn't.

Adam reached out and touched him.

Vagaborn burst into a cloud of smoke, the wind carrying him away—leaving nothing behind.

The other Nullborns didn't hesitate. They turned and ran.

The room was a battlefield of exhaustion. Everyone, drained from their mindless brawl, could barely stand. As the power of the Invisible Hand receded, Adam remained conscious—but visibly shaken.

For many, this was the first time witnessing such power.

Naté looked at Adam with newfound respect.

Raith turned to Paps. "Who is he?"

"Adam a student of Emac."

Raith shook his head. "I've never seen anything like that before."

Kooky, who had only heard of the Invisible Hand, stood in stunned silence. She said nothing. She simply walked away.

Raith clutched his wounds. They weren't healing.

They needed answers.

And they needed them fast.