Zaria's claws found his shoulder plate before he'd finished his own swing, and the impact rocked him back a step. He didn't stay back. He drove forward instead, caught her wrist against the Lance's shaft, and swung a knee into her ribs. She grunted and gave real ground for the first time all fight, one full step back.
He didn't let her reset. He planted the Lance and drove another pulse straight at her feet, and it caught clean, dropping her to a knee.
[■■■■■■■□□□] 70%
He barely registered the number this time, already closing while she was still recovering, driving a two-handed thrust into her exposed side. The impact rocked her sideways, pale scoring flashing across her scales where the hit had landed hardest.
I'm actually hurting her.
She planted a hand against the crater floor and shoved herself upright before he could follow up, but it cost her a half-second longer than it should have, and for the first time real strain showed in how she reset her stance.
He filed it away. She wasn't invincible, just further from empty than he was.
"Not bad." Her voice came out rougher than before. "Still not enough."
She came back swinging, and this exchange ran even, blow for blow, neither of them clearly ahead. He caught one claw strike on the Lance's shaft and answered with a pulse point-blank, and the shockwave threw them both backward at once.
[■■■■■□□□□□] 50%
He hit the ground hard. So did she.
"You're losing power, aren't you." It wasn't really a question.
He didn't answer right away. Something in his chest did feel thinner than it had ten minutes ago, like fuel running low, but agreeing to that meant agreeing he understood what it was, and he didn't.
"...Maybe."
"It's not decoration." Her claws stayed raised. "That's what's holding your armor together right now, every ability, every block, every hit you take. It all draws from the same well. Empty it, and the suit goes with it. So do you."
Zaria pushed herself up first, breathing harder than she had been ten minutes ago. That was small comfort, given how hard he was breathing too.
"Guess it's time I stopped holding this at a walk."
She reached over her shoulder into empty air.
SHING
Her Dragonscale Broadsword tore free of the light, wide and heavy, easily the length of her own arm. Serrated teeth ran along one edge, dark red scale patterns bleeding to black toward the hilt, molten light pulsing through a groove cut straight down its center.
Shit.
She closed immediately, the broadsword already swinging in a wide overhead arc. He got the Lance up to block, and the impact rang down his arms hard enough to numb his fingers, but he held it and shoved through, driving her back a step.
She swept low in answer. He cleared it by inches and countered with a pulse aimed at her planted foot, and it connected, buckling her stance again.
Molten light gathered along her blade's edge. She swept it upward, and a crescent of fire tore free, cutting across the gap between them.
He threw himself sideways. The fire carved a scar into the ground where he'd been standing a second ago, close enough that heat licked up through his boots.
"You can control fire."
"It's my ability." Her sword didn't lower, her eyes not leaving him.
He rolled out of the crouch and drove forward instead of retreating, catching her off guard with it, and landed a solid two-handed strike across her chest plate before she'd finished resetting.
She didn't stay down long. She drove forward again, sword and flame leading, and every step he'd just clawed away from her disappeared just as fast.
He caught one strike on the Lance's shaft, then another, boots skidding backward across the crater floor with every exchange.
A flash of gold caught the edge of his vision.
[■■■□□□□□□□] 30%
I can't just keep blocking. I need something that changes this.
He ran through what he had left while ducking her next swing. The Lance, running low. His hands, the one thing tonight that hadn't cost him anything yet. Whatever else the armor might still be hiding from him, if he could find it before he ran out of time to look.
He started watching her instead of just the fight in front of him. Every big overhead cut followed the same setup, a half-step back before she committed, like her body needed that instant to load the swing. He filed it away and tightened his guard instead, feeding her nothing to punish, saving the Lance instead of throwing pulses on reflex.
She swung again, the same half-step loading the strike, and this time he didn't retreat. He caught it on a tight block instead, absorbing most of the force, and used the half-second she needed to reset to close the gap instead of putting distance between them.
Inside her reach now, the broadsword too long to matter at this range, she had nothing left but her fists.
His own fist came up for a real shot at her exposed jaw, the kind that would've dropped a Sable Beast without a second thought, and some part of him pulled it half a step from home, the same instinct that made him check every sparring partner back home before he connected.
The punch landed anyway. Softer than it should have.
Zaria staggered back, catching herself against a jut of loose rock before she went all the way down. For a second she just stood there, breathing hard, staring at the space between them like it had personally betrayed her.
"You got inside." Not quite a question, not quite an accusation either.
"Yeah." He didn't move to give the room back. "Sword's not much good this close."
Something shifted in how she held herself, weight settling lower, hands coming up bare instead of reaching for the hilt at her hip.
"Fine." She rolled her neck once. "We do it your way, then."
She came at him bare-handed, fast, no wind-up at all this time. He caught the first strike on his forearm and answered with a jab to her ribs. She took it without flinching and drove an elbow toward his temple, and he ducked under it, barely.
He countered with a hook to her jaw. She rocked with it and came back low, a sweep aimed at his legs. He hopped it and drove a knee into her thigh, and she grunted, giving half a step before closing the distance again immediately.
Neither of them let up. Blow answered blow, closer now than the fight had been all night, no room left for thinking, just reacting and hoping his body remembered more than hers did.
A lull hit them both at the same moment, some unspoken agreement to breathe for half a second before the next exchange. He'd take it, pride be damned at this point.
Gold flickered at the edge of his vision.
[■■□□□□□□□□] 20%
He didn't get time to feel anything about that number before she came at him again.
She drove a strike toward his ribs, and he caught it wrong, his forearm buckling enough that pain shot clean up to his shoulder. He answered anyway, driving a punch into her stomach with everything he had left.
She took it without staggering this time, just absorbed it and kept coming.
Something in her face changed, the calculation dropping out of it entirely.
"Finally." She rolled her shoulders once, no wince this time. "Now we're actually fighting."
She came at him with everything left in her, no more testing, no more holding anything back. He met her the same way, past caution, past technique, just throwing whatever he had left and hoping it landed first.
It didn't.
Her claw caught his forearm before his fist ever found her jaw, and the follow-up drove clean into his chest, throwing him backward off his feet.
The Golden Dragon's light guttered out before he'd even hit the ground, armor dissolving into gold mist, the Triastra Driver cold at his hip.
He hit the crater floor hard enough to knock the air out of him, staring up at a fake sky the simulator hadn't bothered switching off yet.
Somebody should turn that off.
Zaria stood over him, breathing hard, crimson armor scored but intact.
"Stay down."
He didn't argue with that.
Guess that's it, then. He stared up at the ceiling instead of at her. Back to Earth, or wherever they put the rejects.
A pause stretched between them, filled with nothing but him catching his breath.
Zaria crossed her arms, looking down at him like she hadn't decided what to do with what she'd just seen.
"So that's it, then." He said it to the fake sky more than to her. "I don't make the team."
"I didn't say that."
"Not exactly."
"...What?"
"...I changed my mind." She said it like the admission physically cost her something. "About you. About whether you belong here."
"Why?"
"Because you didn't quit." Her jaw set. "Whatever that is, that refusal to stay down, that's not nothing. I don't see it often."
He went still, the reply he'd been ready to throw back at her dying somewhere before it reached his mouth.
Zaria stretched a hand toward him, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Make no mistake, this isn't approval. You still fight like someone who's only ever had to worry about one opponent at a time, and that will get you killed out here." Her fingers curled slightly, like she was reconsidering the offer even as she made it. "But for now. You're on the roster. Don't make me regret saying that out loud."
The words took a second to land right, and once they did, he couldn't stop the smile pulling at his mouth. He reached up and took her hand, letting her haul him to his feet, a sharp sting flaring up his side the second his weight settled.
"Easy." She caught his arm before he could sway, hooking it over her shoulder without asking first. "Lean on me. Let's get you to the medbay."
"Thanks."
His ponytail had come undone somewhere in the fight. Gold hair spilled loose over his shoulders, and with one arm slung over her shoulder, he didn't have a free hand to fix it even if he'd wanted to.
He didn't.
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