Chapter 5.9 — Clara / Hand-to-Hand
Arsenal and Mod sprinted into the fray. Beneath her helmet, her eyes were narrowed and it was a struggle not to smirk. Her heart pounded with excitement.
Arsenal had trained so much with her exosuits that fighting in them felt natural. Even her standard exosuit felt like an extension of herself. It moved by following the electrical impulses in her muscles. Weapon systems and other complicated maneuvers were controlled with internal switches in her gauntlets.
But her thinsuit was on another level entirely. It lacked the firepower and high defense of her standard exosuit, but it more than made up for it with speed, maneuverability, and close quarter combat potential.
It fit like a second skin and helped Arsenal focus and control her power.
With her standard suit, she could funnel power into flying and into her kinetic blasts. If Clara pushed herself, she could use the same kinetic empowerment to fuel her punches and kicks. It was a potent ability, but it required her to balance pushing and balancing her output.
That kinetic movement was exactly what her thinsuit was made for. But instead of a handful of thrusters located on her joints, her entire body was covered in scales—each acting as a thruster that could be turned on or off, and responding at the speed of electrical impulse.
As Arsenal ran across the subway platform, scales in her back opened. She moved so quickly she had to open scales in her legs to keep from tripping—a speed that would catch a Class 3 super by surprise.
Somehow, Mod kept up with her.
The pair skidded to a halt beside Athena. Mod clashed weapons with the spellsword, lightning up the subway platform with sparks, while Arsenal turned toward the edge of the platform.
The monk leapt off of the tracks and towards her. He bounded off a nearby support pillar and launched a flying kick. Arsenal blocked it with her armored shin.
The monk didn’t pause, immediately launching a barrage of punches. His fighting style was quick and direct, his stance strong. Arsenal blocked the strikes easily. Power jetted through her scales, punctuating each movement.
The monk’s brow furrowed, clearly noticing Arsenal’s power. “Your energy’s strong.”
Arsenal didn’t reply. Behind her, the battle continued. Clangs of weapons from Mod and the spellsword echoed through the station. Cracks of lightning lit up the station. Out of the corner of her eye, Arsenal saw Athena blocking lightning bolts from the mage.
Arsenal continued fighting the monk, but circled around, putting her enemy between her and the lightning. The last thing she needed was a bolt in the back.
But as Arsenal turned, the rogue flew out of the darkness. Without her helmet, Arsenal never would have seen him. The rogue left a thin trail of smokey UV and infrared energy.
He emerged in the air beside Clara, descending with twin daggers drawn.
Arsenal spun in a blink and fired a blast out of her palm. It was crude but effective, sending the rogue hurtling off the platform and back onto the tracks.
Multiple bolts of lightning tore across the platform. Athena succeeded in blocking several, but each time lightning struck one of her forcefields it dispersed in a flash of power—Athena had to reform them each time. The veteran super grunted in protest and muttered something.
TINA said, “Switch targets with Athena.”
Arsenal fired a palm blast at her enemy. The monk flew backward, flipping through the air and catching himself across the platform. Arsenal flared power out of her back, thrusting herself across the room. Her boots scraped across the tile and the station blurred around her.
Athena must’ve gotten a similar message, because she sprinted across the platform to engage the monk. Blood was dripping from her nose—likely feedback from using her forcefields to block the mage’s lightning. Meanwhile, Mod continued his furious engagement with the spellsword.
Arsenal crossed the platform in an instant. She knew her armor could withstand some energy attacks, but she didn’t want to find out its limits. Arsenal skidded between support pillars, circling around to the far side of the mage so that errant bolts wouldn’t endanger her teammates. Then Arsenal charged, resolving to take out the mage as quickly as possible.
Bolts of lightning sailed through the air, only some of which were in her direction. Arsenal spun, easily avoiding those that were meant for her. She didn’t have time to look back—
She had to trust that Mod and Athena would be okay.
~ ~
The spellsword’s blade flashed as Mod parried it, each time giving off the magical equivalent of sparks.
Mod twisted, striking out with the butt of his staff, but the spellsword held out a hand. Magic flared and the staff slammed into a translucent barrier, much like Athena used. At the same time, the spellsword stabbed toward him. Mod was forced to step back and parry.
He was envious of their magic. They’d already used a gust of wind to push him back once and shot smaller magic blasts. These were weaker than the mage’s lightning bolts, but strong enough that Mod didn’t want to get hit again if he could help it.
Then there were the spellsword’s fighting skills. They were good, way better at hand-to-hand combat than Mod, but Mod was stronger and faster. His enemy was easily Class 2, but it only showed how much Mod had grown in the past months.
And he was learning. Even in the middle of battle, Mod could feel his strikes becoming more efficient. He began to notice not just the spellsword’s fighting style but also the magic they used.
Their magic barrier was good, but it was nothing like Athena’s. For one, the mage had to activate it with a gesture. And most importantly, the barrier wasn’t anchored in the air.
Athena grunted as lightning bolts slammed into her barriers. Mod didn’t have to be psychic to know the bolts hurt. He’d seen Athena struggle during a similar matchup against the super named Feedback.
Mod had taken enough time enjoying the fight.
Mod baited the spellsword. He threw a lazy strike with his staff, one easily blocked by their magic barrier. The spellsword lunged forward on the offensive, thinking they had an opening, but Mod counted. He swung again with his staff—
The spellsword countered with their magic barrier. But this time, they were sent flying back through the air.
Mod didn’t relent. He lunged forward, covering fifty feet in a blink. At the same time, bolts of lightning flashed across the station. Mod felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he ducked out of the way.
Instead, two of the bolts hit the spellsword. Electricity flowed around their armor before seemingly absorbing into it. Soon, their armor glowed with the same silver mist as their blade did.
Mod met his enemy with a flurry of his own, but this time the spellsword matched him purely with their blade alone. The mage had clearly buffed his ally’s strength and their speed.
That was fine. Mod had other weapons.
Without pausing his flurry, Mod unsheathed his impact shield and his whip. Mod adjusted his grip so that he could use all three items at the same time—his whip undulating over his shoulder like a scorpion’s tail.
Mod redoubled his assault, lashing out not just with his staff, but also with the edge of his shield and with errant strikes from his whip. Even with the magic flowing through them, the spellsword backpedaled, barely able to keep up.
Mod couldn’t blame them. He couldn’t imagine too many supers were used to fighting someone with an extra hand.
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