Chapter 5 - Justice
"If you don't release me in ten seconds, I will do it."
Outside, Lyra and Ajax exchanged a meaningful glance. Both adopted combat stances: arms in front of their bodies, knees slightly bent, chins lowered, and gazes sharp. Tension filled the air as the countdown reached its end.
When the final second passed, the woman emerged from the crate like a silent shadow, stepping into the outside world. Her silver eyes quickly analyzed the two opponents. Then, she assumed a stance similar to theirs but with subtle differences: her left hand slightly ahead of her right, fingers poised to grasp any incoming attack, shoulders relaxed, ready to act.
For a moment that seemed eternal, the three remained in a standoff. No one wanted to make the first move, no one wanted to reveal their hand.
Lyra couldn't hold back for long and was the first to strike. She launched a high kick with her left leg, but the dark-clad figure dodged by throwing herself backward. Ajax joined the fray to assist Lyra in recapturing their target, lunging forward to grapple her. However, he was met with a knee strike that sent blood dripping from his nose. The woman's remark almost irritated him:
"You are very amateurish in hand-to-hand combat. I suppose your skills have made you too comfortable."
Unlike Ajax, Lyra took the comment to heart. For the first time, someone was mocking her abilities. Determined, she prepared to unleash a wave of ice. Noticing the mage's movements, the woman—who had once been Deimos—charged forward. This time, Ajax managed to grab her leg, believing he could hold her long enough for Lyra's attack to land. But he hadn't anticipated her overwhelming strength. With an explosive movement, the woman kicked him away, though Lyra's ice attack was already in motion.
Sharp ice spikes flew toward the woman, who blocked them with her right arm. The impact left clear marks: cryogenic burns spread across her frozen skin. For a brief moment, her eyes widened, and her pupils narrowed into slits. Lyra seized the opening and launched a flurry of punches at her face, ribs, and solar plexus. The pain and the state of her incapacitated arm allowed Lyra's strikes to land effectively, forcing her opponent to spit blood.
Lyra smirked, but her satisfaction vanished as she witnessed something that sent a shiver down her spine. The furious young woman, entirely disregarding the pain, gripped her injured arm and, with a grotesque movement, ripped it off. The dry tearing sound made Lyra take a step back, incredulous at the insanity of the act.
Yet what should have been a gruesome, bloody spectacle took an even more disturbing turn. Instead of blood, a dark, viscous liquid oozed from the wound, pulsing as if it had a life of its own. The girl averted her gaze for an instant, her lips pressing into a tense line, while her hands hesitated briefly before relaxing at her sides. Still, she remained still, allowing the black fluid to continue flowing.
The dark liquid stopped abruptly, and where there had been a severed arm, a new limb began to form, sculpted in a moment of pure chaos. When the process was complete, the newly regenerated arm rose to eyebrow level, fist clenched in defiance. The gesture, heavy with intent, was followed by a sharp declaration:
"I have given you enough courtesy."
Suddenly, the changes in the girl's body became even more pronounced. Gauntlets made of dark metal enveloped her hands, the material gleaming with a menacing aura. Razor-sharp edges extended from her fingers and knuckles, while intricate patterns pulsed in shades of green, occasionally flickering with an almost ethereal purple glow. On her feet, pointed boots completed the transformation, radiating the same sinister energy.
Lyra felt the weight of reality collapse around her. This was no longer just a mere setback, a random altercation. The battle had escalated into something much greater—a duel of life and death.
Before the situation could spiral further, Ajax suddenly intervened, interrupting the moment with a clear gesture. One of his hands was raised vertically, while the other rested horizontally, forming a "T" in the air.
"Time. We surrender. It's over." His voice was firm, yet carried his usual nonchalant tone.
Lyra, however, couldn't hide her frustration. "What are you saying? We have to take him… her… that thing with us!"
Ajax sighed, his tired eyes reflecting the tension accumulating by the second. "Do you really think we can take that thing with us without having to kill it? I mean, she grew a new arm. And those gauntlets…" He gestured slightly with his head. "They're different from mine. Maybe it's because our fighting styles share some similarities, but I can tell from here: that metal is alive. It's a part of her."
He paused, as if choosing his words carefully, or maybe he was simply exhausted by the situation. "Look, if you want to die fighting, that's on you. I, on the other hand, accept my defeat."
Lyra hesitated for a moment. Ajax wasn't the sharpest mind she knew, but he was someone who respected his own limits. If he admitted defeat, it was because he truly couldn't see himself winning against the creature before them. The silence that followed lasted only seconds, yet it felt like an eternity, until it was broken by the voice of the figure responsible for all the tension hanging in the air.
"Where do you plan to take me, and why?" she asked, her tone severe, like an elder reprimanding a child.
This time, Ajax took the lead and answered:
"We want to take you to Alt Zufluchts, the place where we live. There, we refine our skills, develop new sciences, and seek to understand the unknown. The goal… well, our goal would be to understand more about your nature. We've heard some stories: of a ghost boy who lived too long, of a barbarian with bloodshot eyes, and of a spectral woman. As you may have noticed, we are mages. It is in our nature to dismantle myths and establish facts."
"I see. You see us as objects of study… Fine, I'll go with you to this rat's nest. But if I don't like what I find there, I will root out the problem myself."
Ajax now seemed more at ease, even wearing a modest smile on his face.
"See, Lyra? Problem solved."