The shadow exploded outward like ink through water, coating frost-covered ground in waves that consumed starlight and warmth. It pressed against Alexander's skin like oil. His obsidian armor flickered. Died.
The plates dissolved like sugar in rain. His hands went bare, vulnerable flesh exposed to cold air and the figure's terrible patience. He reached for fire. Nothing. Ice. Nothing. Any scrap of elemental power. Dead. All of it. The figure's hood tilted.
"You're mine."
The voice came from inside his skull, from the shadow coating his skin-
"It doesn't fucking matter!"
Alexander lunged forward, bare fists leading. No armor, no fire, no ice. Just flesh and bone and three weeks bleeding himself against practice posts.
His fist connected with where the figure's face should be. Like punching smoke that occasionally remembered being solid. But it connected. The figure's head snapped back.
Left hook to ribs. Right uppercut through shadow-flesh. Knee to midsection. He moved like his master taught him - efficient, brutal, violence as breathing.
The figure struck back. Shadow-fist crashed into Alexander's jaw, sent stars exploding across his vision. He rolled with it, spun into an elbow strike that caught the figure's temple.
Blood ran from Alexander's split lip. He grinned through it.
Another exchange - Alexander's fist into the figure's throat, the figure's knee into Alexander's ribs with force that cracked bone. Pain bloomed white-hot. Alexander gasped, staggered, but didn't fall.
The figure's hood pulled back slightly from the strikes. Still no face, just deeper darkness. But Alexander could feel it. That smile.
So he smiled back.
Shadow-fingers caught his throat, squeezed. Alexander drove both fists into the figure's midsection. The grip loosened. He twisted, broke free, headbutted where the nose should be.
The figure staggered. Actually staggered.
"That's right,"
Alexander panted, blood running from his nose.
"I don't need powers to break you."
The figure moved - frame-skipping - suddenly inside his guard. Shadow-palm struck his solar plexus, drove air from lungs. Follow-up to kidney made his knees buckle. Fingers twisted his wrist, made his shoulder scream.
Alexander went with the throw, rolled, came up swinging. Found the figure's jaw. Grabbed the cloak, yanked hard, pulled in close where longer reach meant nothing.
They grappled. Shadow-solid and flesh-and-bone, trading strikes too fast for thought. Alexander's training took over - block, counter, strike. Take the hit coming and make sure yours lands harder.
Blood ran from his mouth, his nose, the cut above his eye. Ribs screamed with each breath. Shoulder probably dislocated. The shadow still pressed, still smothered his abilities.
But he was standing. Fighting. Grinning through blood because this thing made a critical mistake.
It thought taking his powers would make him helpless.
Shadow-fist crashed into his face. He rolled with it, drove his elbow into the figure's temple. The void beneath the hood flickered.
Vulnerability. This thing could be hurt.
The figure's knee found his stomach. Alexander doubled over. Shadow-hands grabbed his head, drove it down while knee came up. Impact made reality white out.
He hit the ground. Frost bit into palms. Blood dripped from his face.
The figure stood over him, hood tilted. Waiting. Still smiling that invisible smile.
Alexander pushed himself up. Knees first, then one foot, leveraging against pain. His ribs protested. Vision swam. Blood ran freely from too many wounds. But he was standing. Still smiling.
"Whatever you are,"
He said, voice rough but steady.
"You can lead me to Johann."
The figure's head tilted. Question without words.
"You're not random. Targeted. Specific. Something sent you to end me, which means you're connected to whatever took him."
Blood seeped through his shirt from wounds needing attention soon. The shadow still pressed, but he didn't care anymore.
"So go ahead. Try to end me. But every second you waste fighting means another second I get closer to understanding what you are."
Another step forward.
"Another clue to finding him."
The figure went completely still. Then the void beneath its hood deepened. Recognition. Understanding. This fight had just changed from execution to something more complicated.
"Come on then."
Alexander raised his bare, bleeding fists.
"Round two. Let's see which one of us breaks first."
The shadow pulsed once. Twice. And the figure smiled wider.