Void Manipulation: Part II

Elesch crouched beside Nova, her breath shallow, eyes locked on him as she awaited his next move. The fireball caster had gone quiet, no more blazing orbs tearing through the air since they'd ducked behind the grimy concrete wall. Inside the shop, the clerk had vanished behind the counter, his weathered face drained of color, muttering frantic prayers under his breath, his body trembling as if he'd pissed himself in terror.

Nova's mind raced, a storm of calculations sparking behind his narrowed eyes. Angle was sharp, came from high, possibly from a rooftop across the street, he thought, mentally tracing the fireball's trajectory, gauging its distance through the neon-soaked chaos of the bustling street.

His jaw clenched, muscles taut, as he pieced together the unseen assailant's position, his pulse became more consistent, as he calmed himself down, for only then, could be think properly. 

Maybe... let's see if this works, Nova thought, sweat beading at his temple, his heart pounding as he thrust his hand out into the open, a bold gamble to draw the attacker's fire.

Elesch's eyes widened, her breath catching at the reckless move. He's risking his arm just to pinpoint a position? she thought, her fingers tightening over the void-etched pillar on her skin, its faint pulse thrumming with her unease.

A distant spark crackled, sharp and ominous. Nova jerked his head around the wall's edge, yanking his arm back just as a fireball roared past, missing him by milliseconds, its blistering heat searing the hairs on his skin.

He cursed under his breath, the agonizing burn lingering on his arm. Whoever's slinging these is no amateur, he thought, his mind racing. The fireball's size and force spoke of a caster with real power, someone not to be underestimated.

Ducking back to Elesch's side of the wall, he motioned for her to switch places, his eyes scanning her briefly to ensure she was unharmed. He peeked again, the street now eerily still, no fireballs in sight. Drawing on his mental map of the last projectile's sharp angle and trajectory, he pinpointed the source.

Across the street, three buildings loomed as potential perches for the assailant. The middle one, a squat structure with a clear line of sight into the shop, felt like the likely roost. Problem is, that spot gives them a damn near perfect view of us, he thought, his stomach twisting at the tactical disadvantage.

He turned to Elesch, his voice low and urgent. "What's your void manipulation do? I've got a vague idea, but I need the details. Quick, so I can figure out a plan."

Elesch's gaze turned inward, her fingers brushing the pillar on her arm as if consulting its silent power. "The basic form of void manipulation lets me control fragments of the void," she said, her voice steady but laced with awe. "I can absorb small amounts of matter or energy within touching distance. I can also dampen magical energy in a tight radius, close enough to snuff out a fireball if I'm near the source. And I can erase power outright by contact." She paused, her eyes narrowing with a mix of pride and unease. "It feels almost too strong for a starting point." Then, in a hushed whisper, her voice trembled with quiet dread. I wonder what it'll become at full power.

The air hung heavy with the acrid tang of scorched earth, the alley a crucible of flickering shadows and latent violence.

I'll need time to forge my weapons, my magical energy is still rejuvenating, I will need a bit more time. Nova's jaw clenched as he thought: She couldn't conjure a void wall yet, but her touch could unravel fireballs, dismissing their searing wrath. One misstep, though, and death would claim her. Fucking hell.

Nova's irritation surged, a molten tide beneath his skin, yet he fought to tether his composure. He inhaled deeply through his nose, his arms rising in sync with the breath, a deliberate ascent, then exhaled sharply yet slowly through his mouth. Clarity pierced the fog in his mind; they couldn't cower here forever. Risk was their only path.

In a burst of fury, he erupted from cover. A spark cracked the air, a fireball blazing toward him. He dodged, the heat grazing his cheek, and sprinted across the street, only to face another fiery orb. The assailant's limited; he needs seconds to summon another. The realization steadied Nova's pulse as he wove past the second fireball, his movements a taut dance of survival.

He began crafting two daggers, their forms coalescing from his depleted magic, a process slower now. Once, in the dungeon's depths, he'd wielded two pillars of power, an E-rank teetering on ascension. Now, inexplicably reduced to one, he languished at F-rank, his strength a shadow of its former self.

Slipping into the building's shadowed maw, he gained a fleeting reprieve; the rooftop assailant couldn't reach him here. But as he turned, instinct screamed. He ducked, a metal pipe whistling past his temple. His daggers, now fully formed, flashed in the dim light. He lunged, piercing one of the four figures looming before him.

The building's door lay in ruins, torn from its hinges by the quartet now facing him. Nova's blade found the pipe-wielder's flesh, a swift, brutal slice. Pivoting, he unleashed a roundhouse kick, his heel crashing against the man's temple, dropping him like a felled tree.

Three remained, their cigarette smoke curling like specters in the gloom. The one in the center, clearly the leader, stood tallest, his glasses glinting with cold authority. His dark hair matched his comrades', but his voice carried the weight of command: "Take him," he barked, and the other two surged forward.

Fuck, Nova thought, his grip on the daggers tightening, muscles coiling like taut springs for the fight. The two attackers were Awakened; a fleeting glimpse revealed their pillars. Both were E-rank, their power flickering but potent. The leader, though, was an evolved F-rank, his aura a deeper, more perilous pulse, marking him as far more dangerous than the two lackeys before Nova.

The lackeys were Chinese, their movements sharp and disciplined, but the leader's voice carried a European lilt, perhaps Welsh, its cadence rolling like mist over rugged hills. He stood tall, draped in a lavish tuxedo that shimmered faintly in the dim light, tailored to perfection. The jacket, double-breasted and adorned with fine metallic embroidery, boasted sweeping lapels and a midnight-black silk finish that hugged his frame with elegant menace. A crisp ivory shirt with a high, pleated collar peeked beneath, anchored by a jet-black, diamond-studded bow tie. His trousers, sharply creased and slightly flared, balanced modern flair with timeless gravitas. Custom cufflinks glinted, and hand-stitched seams whispered wealth, confidence, and deliberate theatricality.

The lackey on the left, a water manipulator, moved first. He unslung a two-liter water bottle from his back, popped the cap, and splashed the liquid upward. With a flick of his wrist, the water coalesced into a gleaming sword, its edge honed by his will, and he launched it at Nova with lethal precision.

Nova twisted aside, the blade slicing the air where he'd stood, but the right-hand lackey seized the moment. Gifted with above-average strength, he closed the distance in a heartbeat, his fist arcing toward Nova's face. The soul-crushing punch connected, a brutal impact that sent Nova staggering back into the open street, vulnerable to the rooftop assailant. A spark flared above, and a fireball roared toward him.

Time fractured; the fireball was moments away, its heat already singeing the air. Nova braced, crossing his arms, daggers forward to blunt the impending damage. But before the flames could engulf him, Elesch darted forward, her eyes blazing with desperate resolve. She thrust her hands out, summoning her nascent void manipulation to unravel the fireball's fury.

If she miscalculates, she will be severely injured, or worse death. Though, she would be sent back to High Heaven, Nova thought, his heart pounding as he watched her fragile power clash with the inferno.

Elesch summoned the void, its dark shimmer flaring just inches from the fireball. Half the inferno dissolved into nothingness, but the remaining flames struck her core with merciless force. She lurched backward, collapsing into Nova's arms. His voice cracked, raw with panic, as he shouted for her to wake. His fingers pressed against her neck, finding a faint pulse; she was alive, but barely. Another fireball screamed through the air. Nova, his senses sharpened by desperation, gauged its speed and dodged, the heat grazing his shoulder.

He dragged Elesch behind a crumbling concrete wall, his chest heaving with barely contained fury. Not now, he thought, reining in the tempest within. Rage could wait; the assailants were still active, their threat a blade at his throat. Neutralize them first, then unleash the storm.

Nova stepped back into the open, his movements fluid as he sidestepped another fireball, its arc predictable now. The two lackeys stood ready, their grins smug, as if victory were already theirs. They were wrong; the fight was far from over.

Nova's gaze burned with primordial rage, a predator's promise of retribution. He charged, daggers gleaming, their brutal, slow deaths already vivid in his mind's eye.