Hound Vs. Hale!

[SCENE CUTS TO BAPO]

[Bapo sprinted through the dense forest, his breaths ragged, his heartbeat drumming in his ears.]

[The towering trees loomed over him, their dark silhouettes swaying under the stormy sky. Rain pounded against the leaves, drenching the ground beneath his hurried steps. The cold wind howled through the branches, yet it did nothing to cool the rising panic burning inside him.

As he neared the tower, his stomach twisted—because it was gone. Vanished right in front of his eyes. The once radiant beacon was now nothing more than empty space.]

BAPO: WHERE DID IT GO!?

[He frantically scanned the area, but the only response was the relentless downpour and the whispering rustle of the wind. Not a single person. Not even a trace of the Leaf.]

[His chest tightened, and a dreadful realization crept in.]

BAPO: It... It'll be too late if we go for the next tower now...

[The rain felt heavier now, the droplets hammering against his skin like tiny needles. The weight of failure pressed down on him, making the world feel colder, darker. His hands curled into fists, trembling as frustration and despair swirled inside him like a raging storm.]

BAPO: What... should I do now...?

[Negativity clawed at his mind, whispering all the worst possibilities. He had no plan, no direction—nothing but the dimming hope of reviving Steller. His vision blurred. Whether from the rain or the overwhelming helplessness, he couldn't tell.]

BAPO: STELLER...

[For a moment, he considered rushing toward the next tower himself—but where was it? His mind raced, desperate for a solution. Then it struck him. If he couldn't make it, there was someone who could.]

BAPO: I can get TACKLER's help to get STELLER back... That's the only solution now... I need to get back to AQUA!

[Just as he turned to run, a streak of blue light sliced through the sky. It was fast—so fast that it barely left an afterimage in his vision.]

BAPO: WOAH... But WHERE IS IT HEADED?

[His eyes followed its trajectory, and his breath hitched.]

BAPO: Towards SAIFUR?

[Realization struck like a bolt of lightning. Without a second thought, he pushed forward, his feet slamming against the wet ground. The earth squelched beneath his steps, but he didn't slow. He couldn't. He had to—]

[His legs buckled.]

[Bapo tumbled to the muddy ground, his body refusing to move. A sharp pain shot through his limbs as exhaustion and stress finally took their toll.]

BAPO: C'MON! MOVE IT! THERE'S NO TIME TO RELAX!

[He clenched his teeth and tried to rise, but his limbs felt like dead weight. His fingers dug into the cold, wet earth, his breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. Then, in the faint glow of the lightning, he caught sight of his reflection in a puddle beside him.]

[A wave of sheer terror crashed over him.]

[His reflection stared back—but it wasn't his own.One of his eyes had turned completely black.]

BAPO: N-No way...

[A shiver ran down his spine as dread clawed at his throat. His breath hitched, his body frozen in horror. The rain lashed against his skin, but he barely felt it. He could only stare at his reflection, at the unnatural void where his eye should've been.]

[His pulse pounded erratically as his vision blurred. His mouth opened, but his voice came out weak, desperate.]

BAPO: AQUA... HELP...

[Darkness swallowed him before he could hear an answer.]

[SCENE CUTS TO HOUND, WHO IS FIGHTING HALE]

[Having a sword has many advantages, but only for those who know how to wield it.]

[Even though Hound had a sword reacting to his element, he didn't have good control over it. His swings were clumsy, missing vital strikes.]

HALE: What's up? You were going to kill me, right?

ILLEGAL HOUND (in mind): I've gotta think of some other way...

[He stopped for a moment, catching his breath, and questioned his reasoning for his actions.

ILLEGAL HOUND: What's your benefit in doing all of this?]

[Hale didn't answer, and Hound took it as a chance to convince him to stop fighting.]

ILLEGAL HOUND: Tackler might not be good with strangers... but then, he never hurt you or anything, right?

HALE: He tried to kill me at first sight... so... not a good impression...

ILLEGAL HOUND (in mind): Damn you, Tackler. There goes my talking-things-over plan.

[Hound threw his sword upwards, its blade spinning through the damp air, and charged toward Hale, forming poison in his hands. At first, Hale assumed he might use the sword to kill him. While Hale was too focused on the falling weapon, he didn't notice Hound closing the distance. The moment Hale reacted, he vanished with Tackler's lightning powers, but as he reappeared, the sword that had been in midair streaked toward him like a bolt of judgment. It pierced through his chest, forcing his form to flicker and reveal his real identity—his pale, light-green skin, his strange asymmetric pupils.]

HALE (in mind): I-Impossible! HoW DID HE DO THAT?

[He gasped, trying to pull the blade out, but before he could, Hound grabbed his collar and threw him to the ground. A ruthless expression crossed Hound's face as he wrenched the sword from Hale's chest and began pounding his fists into him, over and over. Hale barely had time to react—every punch crashed into his skull like a hammer, his vision growing blurry.]

[Hale was just a kid. He never had a real life. He only did what he was told to do. And now, as the hits kept coming, his defenses shattered. Tears welled up in his eyes as, through broken breaths, he started to beg.]

HALE: I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! DON'T HIT ME! PLEASE STOP! I'LL NEVER IMITATE ANYONE AGAIN! PLEASE LET ME GO!

[And suddenly, Hound froze. His knuckles, bloodied from the beating, stopped midair. The desperate cries rang in his ears, louder than his own breath, louder than the storm in his head. He looked down at Hale, who lay trembling beneath him, and then at his own hands—shaking, stained, monstrous.]

HOUND: What was I doing...?

[Hale panted, his body wracked with pain. He watched as Hound slowly moved away, as if horrified by himself.]

HALE: You... you're not going to kill me?

[There was a long pause before Hound muttered, almost to himself:]

HOUND: In our world... killing someone is a big deal. It's not easy for people to do that unless they're driven into a corner... or pushed to the edge. But murderers... they kill without remorse. I don't know why it's so normal here. And why... we're slowly becoming like them...

[Hale groaned, forcing himself up slightly, still clutching his chest. He muttered with a faint chuckle:]

HALE: So... you'd rather get killed than kill someone, is that right...?

[Amidst the tension, a groan escaped from nearby. Tackler stirred, his body aching as he slowly lifted himself off the ground.]

TACKLER: Huh...?

[Hound turned sharply, relief flooding his face.]

ILLEGAL HOUND: TACKLER! THANK GOD YOU'RE AWAKE!!

TACKLER: I feel… kind of empty…

[Something was missing. His element? His power? Maybe that's what he meant. He saw HOUND approaching him, his expression almost joyful.]

TACKLER: HOUND? When did you—

[But before he could finish, another voice cut through the moment. A familiar voice, ringing from a distance.]

 'Oh! You really got me worrying when you left… you're alive…'

[TACKLER turned toward the voice, his heart skipping a beat. The tone, the inflection—it was HOUND's voice.]

[But the one who spoke… wasn't the HOUND standing in front of him.]

[It was HALE, who had shifted into HOUND's form.]

HOUND: Hey! STOP DOING THAT!

[TACKLER's eyes darted between the two, confusion spiraling into unease.]

TACKLER confusedly: Which of you… is the real one…?