Samson drew a slow breath as he rose, his posture still slightly bent.
Christopher advanced—each step deliberate, his gaze steeped in lethal intent.
The instant he closed the distance—
He struck.
A killing blow.
But—
Samson caught it.
He lifted his head, a sinister smile creeping across his lips.
Samson: Surprise!
In the same breath, his other fist drove into Christopher's abdomen—
A crushing impact.
Christopher was hurled backward.
Samson straightened, rolling his shoulders as realization settled in.
Samson: So… your true ability is exponential growth. You become stronger with every passing second.
His grin widened.
Samson: Then all I need… is to keep up. To mirror you—second by second.
Christopher: You talk too much.
Without warning, he launched himself skyward—rising above the treeline.
The sun fell directly behind him—
Blinding.
For a fleeting moment, Samson's vision fractured.
And in that moment—
Christopher descended.
What followed was a relentless exchange—strikes colliding in rapid succession, each blow heavier than the last, neither yielding ground.
Then—
Samson found an opening.
His fist connected cleanly with Christopher's face.
A decisive hit.
But—
It was intentional.
Before Samson could capitalize, Christopher seized his arm—
Twisted sharply—
And flung him downward.
Samson's body slammed onto the crown of a palm tree, the trunk bowing violently beneath the force as he crashed from above.
Christopher released his grip on the palm tree.
The bent trunk snapped back—
Catapulting Samson high into the sky.
But before he could be carried any farther, Samson shapeshifted—his form collapsing into that of a crow, wings cutting through the air with precision.
He stabilized.
Reformed.
Samson: Impressive. You truly caught me off guard. But it won't happen again. I'll end this myself.
Christopher launched himself upward.
Samson dove to meet him—shifting mid-descent, returning to Christopher's appearance.
They closed in—
Collision imminent.
But Samson had the advantage.
Momentum.
Speed.
He struck first.
Driving into Christopher, he seized him mid-air and forced him downward in a brutal dive—
CRASH.
The ground gave way beneath them, a crater erupting on impact.
Samson didn't stop.
He twisted, slammed Christopher into the earth—
Then locked him in a chokehold.
Tight.
Unyielding.
Christopher struggled.
But the grip only constricted further.
His vision began to dim—
Edges darkening.
Breath failing.
Then—
A blur.
Lynn.
She struck from behind, plunging both daggers into Samson's shoulder.
The wounds were shallow—
But enough.
Samson roared, releasing his hold as he wrenched her away and hurled her aside.
That was all Christopher needed.
He surged forward, seized Samson's leg—
Spun him with violent force—
And flung him straight into the hospital structure.
Christopher: I told you not to come. Why can't you listen to me?!
Lynn: Are you insane?! He was about to kill you!
Samson:(groaning) You worthless pieces of shits… I'll kill you both.
Christopher had hurled Samson into the hospital hallway, and alarms began to blare as nurses rushed to evacuate patients. But Samson no longer cared—right or wrong meant nothing now; only rage remained. He tore a vending machine from its place and hurled it forward. Christopher caught it head-on, his boots grinding against the floor as the force drove him backward.
Lynn's dagger cut through the air, but Samson slipped past it and caught it mid-flight—only for Lynn to appear instantly at the blade. Her teleport was seamless. In the same motion, she carved across his cheek.
Blood.
Samson's restraint snapped. He surged forward, unleashing a relentless barrage of punches—each strike fast enough to shatter bone, each impact carrying crippling force.
Yet Lynn moved with uncanny precision, weaving through every attack as though she could anticipate them before they were thrown. That only fueled his fury further.
While evading, she countered—her daggers flashing in rapid succession, striking again and again from shifting angles. The wounds were not deep, nor immediately fatal, but they accumulated—sharp, persistent, inescapable.
And Samson felt every one of them.
Samson quickly adjusted his pace, having already analyzed Lynn's ability.
Samson:(Thought) Iron Maiden… you surpass me in speed. I'll admit your resolve to stand against stronger opponents… but how unfortunate.
Without warning, he stomped the ground, cracking and displacing the tiles beneath them. Lynn's balance faltered, and before she could recover, Samson clapped his hands—releasing a shockwave that hurled her straight into the wall.
Christopher: No—no, no!
He burst forward at full speed, driving a punch into Samson that sent him skidding back. Without hesitation, Christopher turned to Lynn, quickly checking her condition.
Samson rose slowly, dusting himself off.
Samson:(Sighs) What an eyesore.
He seized a steel bench and hurled it toward Christopher. Christopher caught it, teeth clenched, pivoted with the momentum, and flung it back with doubled force. Samson struck it aside—but in that instant, he failed to notice—
Christopher was already there.
An uppercut surged upward, carrying the full weight of the next second's power.
As Christopher hurled the bench back, he surged forward in the same motion. The instant Samson deflected it, Christopher was already upon him—his fist rising in a flawless uppercut before Samson could even react.
The blow launched Samson straight into the air.
But Christopher did not relent.
He seized Samson's leg mid-flight and drove him into the ground—once to the left, once to the right—each impact cracking the surface beneath them. Shifting his grip, he raised him again and slammed him down a third time, his restraint long abandoned.
Then, with precise control, he caught the leg at a perfect angle and brought his hand down in a sharp strike—
A clean break.
A scream tore from Samson as pain surged through him. Desperate, he lashed out with a kick, forcing Christopher back just enough to breathe.
Samson: You fucking monster! You broke my leg!
But even that bought him nothing.
Christopher surged forward again, intent on ending it with a single, decisive blow.
Cornered, Samson had no choice but to meet him head-on, drawing back every ounce of strength he had left.
Their fists collided—
—and in that instant, the disparity between them became undeniable.
Christopher's strike did not merely overpower Samson's.
It shattered him.
Bone splintered from knuckle to shoulder as the force tore through Samson's entire arm.
The force carried through.
From knuckle to shoulder, Samson's arm shattered, and the shockwave hurled him backward with such violence it felt as though gravity itself had turned against him—dragging him down, slamming him into the ground hard enough to carve a crater with his own body.
The air fled his lungs. Thought vanished. Movement followed.
He lay there—broken, stunned, barely conscious.
But Christopher was not finished.
Rage consumed him. He mounted Samson and drove his fists down again and again, each blow heavier than the last, until Samson's face was nothing but blood and ruin.
And then—
Samson smiled.
Christopher froze.
Christopher: The hell are you smiling for?
Samson: You lost, bitch.
A sharp, mechanical chorus answered him.
Beeping.
From every corner of the hospital.
Realization struck too late—this had never been about winning. Samson had already decided the outcome.
Win or lose…
the hospital dies with him.
Samson: See you in hell, BeeGees.
Christopher's heart sank.
There was no time. No solution.
Only choice.
He turned and ran—back to Lynn—throwing himself over her, shielding her with his own body as the inevitable closed in.
Christopher: Forgive me… I couldn't save everyone… I'm sorry.
The timers hit zero.
All sixteen bombs detonated at once.
Christopher shut his eyes, still shielding Lynn beneath him. His body could endure even a nuclear blast—but that meant nothing now. He could not stop this. And for the first time, he felt it—
helplessness.
Shame.
Seconds passed.
He held her tighter, bracing for heat… for impact…
But none came.
No fire. No shockwave.
Nothing.
The hospital still stood—silent, untouched, as though the explosion had never existed.
Confusion overtook him. Slowly, he lifted his head.
What he saw—
defied reason.
Each bomb had been sealed within a perfect sphere of energy, suspended in place. Inside them, the explosions had already occurred—reduced to trapped shock, debris, and curling black smoke, all contained within those glowing boundaries.
Sixteen disasters.
Silenced.
Then—
footsteps.
A figure descended the stairs.
Humanoid.
Radiant.
Its body shimmered with soft white light, streaked with faint pink tracings that flowed like living currents. Its face… was almost human.
Almost—
Leona.
With a mere gesture, the being directed the spheres outward. They drifted away from the hospital, released into the distance like discarded fragments of catastrophe.
Then it approached.
Christopher.
Lynn.
And gently—
it knelt.
SentientBeing: Are you hurt?
Christopher stared, breath unsteady, mind struggling to catch up.
Christopher: No… who—what are you?
It turned its gaze to Lynn and reached out, placing a hand upon her.
Light spread.
Her wounds began to mend.
AstralAegis: I am Astral Aegis—a sentient construct born from Leona's life force. Her distress awakened me. I may resemble her, but I am not her. I possess my own mind… my own will. And in many ways, I am her opposite.
As the light faded, Lynn stirred—her breathing steady, her strength returning. She had heard everything.
Without hesitation, she rose and scanned the surroundings, ensuring no one else had been harmed.
There were none.
No casualties.
Only silence in the aftermath.
Astral Aegis turned—
toward where Samson had fallen.
But he was gone.
Instead—
he stood at the far end of the corridor.
One leg broken.
One arm shattered.
And yet—
still standing.
In his grip, a nurse struggled, his hand clamped around her throat, lifting her just enough to steal her breath. His remaining arm trembled, but his intent did not.
He faced Astral Aegis.
Samson: Stop right there, freak.
A crooked grin forced its way through blood and pain.
Samson: I don't know what the hell you did to my bombs…but you'd better stay the fuck back. Or she dies.
Christopher: Black Gryphone… you have nowhere left to run. Release her, and you may yet be shown mercy.
Samson threw his head back and laughed—wild, broken, unhinged.
Samson: You idiot. You couldn't even protect your own family… and you think you can save anyone else?
Christopher's jaw tightened. Rage surged again—
—but Astral Aegis raised a hand, halting him.
AstralAegis: You kill for pleasure… don't you? I can see it in your eyes. There is no one you value but yourself.
Samson's grin widened.
Samson: What if I do? Even if this is the last life I take…
His grip tightened around the nurse's throat.
Samson: I'll savour it.
A thin line of blood slipped from her lips.
Her body trembled.
Samson leaned closer, voice dropping into something colder—
crueler.
Samson: Mercy? Mercy is for the weak.
His fingers began to tense—
ready to tear.
Christopher moved.
All his strength gathered into his legs—ready to cross the distance in an instant.
At the same time, Lynn's arm snapped forward, her dagger cutting through the air toward Samson—
A desperate gamble.
A final second.
And yet—
amid the chaos…
amid the panic…
Astral Aegis did not move.
She did not rush.
She simply spoke—
softly.
AstralAegis: The only person who will go to hell... Is you.
A fragment of light gathered at her fingertips—small, precise, lethal.
She released it.
The construct cut through the air in silence and struck true—piercing Samson's skull before anyone else could reach him.
His body went still.
The nurse collapsed from his grasp.
Dead before the moment could even finish unfolding.
Astral Aegis stepped forward without haste. She caught the nurse before she hit the ground, her hand already glowing as it pressed against the torn flesh of her neck.
The wound closed.
Breath returned.
Life—restored in an instant.
Her abilities mirrored Leona's… yet refined—faster, sharper, absolute.
Astral Aegis glanced at Samson's corpse.
No hesitation.
No remorse.
Astral Aegis: Rot in hell, asshole.
She turned away.
That was all the judgment he was worth.
Without another word, she walked back toward the second floor. Christopher and Lynn followed, still processing what they had just witnessed.
Lynn: How… how did you do that?
AstralAegis: As I said, I am a sentient construct of energy—capable of manifesting weapons at will. I simply prefer efficiency.
They reached Leona's room.
She lay still upon the bed—quiet, untouched, almost unreal.
Like a figure preserved in time.
Astral Aegis stepped closer and placed a hand gently upon her forehead.
AstralAegis: When she wakes… tell her nothing of me. She has endured enough. I will not become another burden she has to carry.
Christopher met her gaze, steady.
Christopher: I care for her as much as you do. And I've never met anyone who would place her friend above her own life.
A brief pause.
Christopher: You have my word. She'll never hear of you.
Astral Aegis said nothing more.
The light around her softened—then unraveled.
Her form dissolved into pure energy and flowed back into Leona, as though she had never existed at all.
Silence returned.
Minutes later, Leona stirred.
Her eyes opened—clear, alive, restored. Strength had returned to her body as if the battle had never touched her. Christopher and Lynn stood at her side.
The first thing she noticed—
was the bruise on Christopher's cheek.
Without hesitation, she reached out, her hand glowing faintly as she healed it.
Leona: How did you get this?
Christopher hesitated—then shrugged it off.
Christopher: One of the patients kicked me while I was carrying him.
A lie.
A small one.
But necessary.
The doctor soon confirmed her condition—fully recovered. Given the urgency of the situation, she was discharged without delay.
As they walked down the hallway, Leona slowed.
Then stopped.
Her gaze drifted to the corner behind them.
Lingering.
Searching.
Lynn: Is something bothering you?
Leona: I just… felt like I've been here before… maybe I'm imagining things. Come on—we've already wasted enough time.
She turned and walked ahead.
A few steps behind, Lynn and Christopher exchanged low voices.
Lynn: Do you think she knows?
Christopher's gaze lingered on Leona's back.
Christopher: She and that entity are one. So yes… it's possible. But whatever she senses, it isn't clear—just fragments.
A brief pause.
Christopher: For now, the light must remain buried… for her sake.
Leona slowed, glancing back.
Leona: What are you two whispering about?
Lynn stiffened—then forced a casual tone.
Lynn: Nothing… really. We're close to our destination, so—let's keep moving. Our friends will be waiting for us.