No: O:Ne Can Hear Yo:U

Tackle blinked back to the present.

Epongi leaned against the wall, his expression twisting into one of pure delight. “You know, I watched that entire situation with your mother,” he said, fishing something from his pocket. He carried a cruel playful tone. “I was thrilled to see how many humans the Monitor would blitz through. It was… exhilarating.”

A hollow laugh bubbled out of him, filling the already suffocating silence of the abandoned hotel.

Tackle, clutched her sided. You bastard!” she shouted. “You don’t know what it’s like! She sacrificed herself for me to get away!”

Epongi’s smirk didn’t waver. Instead, he held up a glowing, ominous chip, its surface pulsating with an eerie red light.

“Ah, such passion!” he sneered. “But enough about the past. Let’s focus on the now, shall we?” He twirled the chip between his fingers.

Tackle’s eyes widened in horror. “That’s a virus!”

“Spot on!” Epongi chuckled, his grin growing as he began to plug the chip behind his ear. His body jerked unnaturally as the virus began to integrate. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Panic surged through Tackle’s veins. Without thinking, she turned and bolted, her legs barely carrying her through the hallways of the hotel.

I don’t know what that virus is going to do to him, but I need to find a place to heal.

Her thoughts were cut short as Epongi appeared beside her, moving faster than her eyes could follow. His leg shot out, slamming into her side. The force sent her flying into a room, her arms instinctively shielding her face as she crashed into a wall.

Pain exploded through her back as she slumped to the floor. She groaned, reaching for the wall to steady herself.

Epongi burst into the room, maniacally. “I’m gonna beat the shit out of you!” he yelled. “And only with my kicks! I’d rather your nasty, human blood stain my shoes than my hands!”

His leg lashed out again, and Tackle barely managed to block it. The impact sent her skidding across the floor, leaving streaks of blood in her wake.

Blow after blow, Epongi drove her through walls and into room after room, his laughter echoing through the desolate halls. “You know,” he sneered, “this hotel’s been on the market for months! Commercial real estate’s been dying to sell this dump. No one’s gonna hear the music of your screams while I kill the shit out you!”

Tackle coughed, blood dripping from her mouth. Every movement sent waves of pain through her body, but she forced herself up.

“Still trying to fight, huh?” Epongi mocked. He looked at her trembling figure. “A human could never outdo a computer. It doesn’t matter if you’re using our technology or not. You’re still weak.”

Tackle wiped the blood from her mouth and steadied her stance, her legs shaking beneath her. “If this is my last stand,” she growled, her voice filled with determination, “I’ll give it my all. Come at me!”

Epongi’s grin widened, his body twitching unnaturally as the virus took deeper hold. “Oh, gladly!” he snarled, rushing toward her with blinding speed.

Shinku and Binar darted across towering structures. Shinku’s EMP webs crackled through the air, meanwhile, Binar’s corrupted touch left trails of infection on every surface.

When the distance between them closed, Shinku slapped away Binar’s hands, ensuring he was never touched. But Binar was relentless. In a split second, he surged forward, slamming his forehead into Shinku’s. The impact sent Shinku flying backward, but he quickly retaliated, twisting his body mid-air to land a rising kick to Binar’s chin.

The force sent him flying, but Shinku wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip.

“This is it!” Shinku shouted. He fired an EMP web directly at Binar, who twisted his body mid-air. The web struck his arm and side, temporarily disabling parts of his body.

Shinku anticipated the fallout. To avoid being infected by the building, he shot another EMP web beneath himself, cushioning his landing. He winced, eyes tightly shut, bracing for any signs of infection creeping through his body.

When he opened his eyes, relief washed over him. As I thought, he thought, steadying himself. Using my EMPs as a cushion buffers the infection. I can fight a little longer.

Shinku could feel his body weakening. He ran toward Binar, firing smaller EMP webs at his feet to neutralize the ground he was about to step on. Each movement was deliberate, a calculated dance against an opponent far more dangerous than anyone he’d faced before.

“I commend you for your strategy,” Binar said, swinging at Shinku. “From one officer to another, I’ll acknowledge your capability.”

“Then answer me!” Shinku demanded, narrowly avoiding a swipe. “What’s your goal? What’s the point of all this? And what does District 3 have to do with it?”

Binar smirked, his movements relentless as they continued to trade blows. “I don’t mind sharing,” he said. “After all, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. But once I answer your questions, you’ll answer mine.”

Shinku hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Speak!”

As they fought, Binar finally revealed his intentions. “The Human Killers and I have been collecting and producing viruses,” he said. “We’ve been distributing them among the communities in District 1 to test how effectively they kill hybrids. It’s all preparation for our bigger plan.”

Shinku’s heart sank. “What plan?!”

Binar’s smirk widened. “We’re going to kill the Mother of District 3—Mother Brain.”

Shinku froze mid-step. “Mother Brain?!” he shouted.

Binar lunged at him, pressing the attack as he continued. “Is it not obvious? Those viruses will be fed to Mother Brain. We predict that if everything goes as planned, every hybrid she births will be stillborn and dead on arrival.”

Shinku’s fists trembled as the weight of Binar’s words sank in. “That’s your mother!” he shouted. “That’s my mother! She’s the only one who creates hybrids!”

Binar growled, his hand clutching his injured arm as they clashed again. “Human Killers, Shinku! Get it through your brain! This is the real world!”

Shinku blocked Binar’s strike and countered with a blow to his side. “Do you hate yourself that much?” he roared.

Binar didn’t falter. “No,” he said, his voice cold and unwavering. “Because regardless of what I am biologically, I consider myself a computer. Why would I side with humans when we’re so much better than them?”

Their battle continued, the rooftop shaking under their relentless assault. Shinku’s resolve hardened as he realized the depth of Binar’s conviction—and the lengths he’d go to in order to prove it.

Shinku tightened his fists, ready to retort, but Binar cut him off with a venomous glare.

“And don’t you dare claim you’re a computer!” Binar growled, his voice laced with disdain. “If you truly were, you wouldn’t be trying to stop me. Everything I’m doing is for the betterment of computers, for our future!”

The words stung, but Shinku refused to waver. His eyes locked with Binar’s as their battle raged on, each blow exchanged carrying the weight of their emotions. Sparks flew from Shinku’s EMP webs as they narrowly struck Binar’s limbs, slowing him down further with every hit.

Binar’s thoughts raced, his composure starting to falter. The EMP web is draining my data faster than I anticipated. If this keeps up, I won’t be able to move much longer. But I can’t let up—not yet.

Shinku noticed the change in Binar’s movements. His strikes, once swift and calculated, were now slower and more erratic. But he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

As they clashed, Shinku took a brief moment to survey his surroundings. The landscape had changed significantly since their battle began. In the distance, he spotted a towering structure with bright neon lights illuminating its pristine white exterior. His eyes widened in recognition.

“The CGA Golf Stadium?” he muttered under his breath, narrowly dodging another swing from Binar. “We’ve traveled this far already? That’s miles from the Eon Terminal…”

For a fleeting moment, Shinku’s mind drifted to the others. He thought of Tackle, locked in her own desperate battle against Epongi. He thought of the chaos they had left behind at the terminal.

I hope they’re okay, he thought, his resolve strengthening. I have to finish this quickly. There’s no telling how much longer they can hold out.

Binar, noticing Shinku’s brief distraction, lunged forward with renewed aggression. “Are you listening, Shinku!?”

Shinku’s gaze snapped back to his opponent, his determination burning brighter than ever. “You’re wrong, Binar,” he said, his voice firm. “I’m not like you. I don’t fight for myself—I fight for everyone who still believes in a better future!”

Binar smirked, his movements slowing but his defiance unshaken. “Your ideals are nothing but human sentimentality,” he spat. “And that’s why you’ll lose in the end.”