Alexander's obsidian spike erupted from the ground. Vazroth sidestepped. Ivy's poisoned strike came from behind. He caught her wrist without turning. Then his free hand ignited with fire that burned cold enough to frost the air.
Copied from their tournament match months ago, replicated perfectly in Johann's stolen flesh. He released Ivy and swept the flames in an arc that forced everyone back, that created space where there had been none.
Astra's starlight rained from above. Vazroth raised his hand and thorns erupted from his palm - Lisa's thorns, grown from flesh that shouldn't support plant life. They caught the starlight mid-descent and absorbed it, grew brighter and sharper with each photon consumed.
Lisa stumbled back, watching her power wielded against them. Watching plants grow from a body that was killing the earth it stood on.
Noel's barriers manifested between Vazroth and the others. Diamond-hard constructs that should have contained him. Vazroth pressed both palms against the nearest barrier, and Alexander's obsidian crawled across his skin like living armor. He punched through Noel's construct with Noel's best friend's power, shattered it with force multiplied by volcanic glass that knew how to break things.
Maeve's temporal manipulation slowed the air around him. He smiled and time stuttered backward - her own power reflected, turned against its caster. She aged three years in the space of a heartbeat, and the manipulation collapsed.
He'd copied that too. Copied everything. Every fighter he'd faced, every ability Johann had duplicated during his life, every technique stored in flesh that remembered what its original had learned.
Alexander came in low with obsidian forming gauntlets. Vazroth met him with the same - perfect mirror, perfect counter. Their fists collided and the impact cratered earth, sent shockwaves rippling outward. Alexander's obsidian cracked. Vazroth's held.
Ivy circled left while Lisa moved right. Coordinated assault, pincer movement, forcing him to divide attention. Vazroth inhaled and exhaled poison - Ivy's poison, concentrations that should have required years of exposure to survive. It misted the air between them, and both women had to retreat from their own weapon turned against them.
Astra created platforms above, raining starlight in patterns meant to overwhelm. Vazroth's hands moved through gestures he shouldn't know, and barriers manifested - Noel's barriers, geometric perfection blocking every attack. The starlight shattered against constructs made from will that wasn't originally his.
Noel charged from the front while Maeve manipulated time from behind. Vazroth's thorns caught Noel mid-stride, wrapped around his legs and yanked him down. His fire flash-froze Maeve's temporal pocket, shattered it like glass, sent her stumbling backward with more gray in her hair.
Six fighters. Six different abilities. All of them being used against their wielders by something wearing their friend's face.
Alexander's obsidian became spikes. Vazroth grew thorns to meet them. Ivy's poison coated her remaining blade. Vazroth breathed it back at her. Lisa's vines surged from soil. Vazroth's fire burned them to ash. Astra's starlight illuminated the battlefield. Vazroth's barriers blocked every photon. Noel's constructs formed walls. Vazroth's obsidian shattered them. Maeve's temporal manipulation bought seconds. Vazroth's reflection stole years.
They were fighting themselves. Fighting every technique they'd developed, every strategy they'd refined, every advantage they thought they possessed. And losing to all of it.
Alexander created distance with obsidian walls. Vazroth phased through them - not his power, not Johann's power, something else entirely. Something copied from a fighter they'd never seen, stored in Johann's flesh from an encounter that predated the tournament.
Ivy struck with precision born from desperation. Vazroth caught her blade with bare hands and the poison just made him smile. His grip tightened and the metal bent, and Ivy had to release it or lose fingers.
Lisa's thorns surged in waves. Vazroth's fire met them, and the plants burned screaming. She felt each death through her connection, felt the betrayal compound as her power destroyed itself.
Astra's starlight formed shapes that defied geometry. Vazroth's barriers matched them perfectly, construct for construct, angle for angle. Two people manifesting will into reality, and his was stronger.
Noel's barriers layered in defensive formation. Vazroth's obsidian broke through like they were suggestions. Each shatter sent feedback through Noel's arms, made his hands shake with accumulated damage.
Maeve's temporal manipulation stuttered time itself. Vazroth moved through it unaffected, and the cost hit Maeve alone. More gray. More lines. More years traded for nothing.
They regrouped. Thirty feet between them and Vazroth, breathing hard, bleeding from a dozen minor wounds. He stood in the center of scorched earth, barely winded, wearing damage like decoration.
Alexander's obsidian dripped from his hands. Ivy's poison coated fingers that shook with exhaustion. Lisa's thorns withdrew reluctantly, still wanting to help the enemy. Astra's starlight flickered with diminishing reserves. Noel's barriers manifested thinner, weaker. Maeve's hands trembled through patterns that cost more with each repetition.
Vazroth watched them with something that might have been fondness or might have been pity. His hands hung loose at his sides, relaxed, ready. Johann's face wore an expression Johann had never made - patient assessment of opponents who'd already lost but hadn't accepted it yet.
Fire danced across his knuckles. Thorns grew from his shoulders. Obsidian crawled up his forearms. Barriers shimmered around his torso. His breathing synchronized with temporal rhythms that suggested mastery over stolen time manipulation. Poison misted from his skin like cologne.
Every power they possessed. Every ability they'd relied on. All of it his to command, refined by centuries of experience they couldn't match.
The silence stretched. Alexander's grip tightened on obsidian that kept reforming. Ivy retrieved her bent blade with hands that wouldn't stop shaking. Lisa pressed palms against dying earth. Astra's platforms dissolved and reformed nervously. Noel manifested barriers that lasted seconds before preemptively shattering. Maeve's temporal manipulation created pockets that collapsed under their own cost.
They were outmatched. Outclassed. Fighting an enemy who wielded their own strengths better than they did, who knew their techniques because Johann had studied them, who possessed centuries of combat experience they'd never accumulate. And Vazroth knew they knew.
His smile widened. Johann's smile, but wrong. Ancient. Patient. Certain. He spoke, and his voice carried across the battlefield with perfect clarity.
VTH: Do you really think you have a chance at winning this?
The question hung in scorched air between them. Not mocking. Not cruel. Just genuinely curious, like he wanted to understand what kept them fighting when the outcome was already decided. Six fighters stood in formation that was already breaking. Six sets of eyes met Johann's face wearing an expression that didn't belong to him. Six hearts beating too fast, too hard, too desperately. And no one had an answer.