Double Duel

Jade bursts into the main chamber and is surprised with the sight before her. A long assembly line snakes through the room, churning out firearms at the end of the conveyor belt. Giant vats are filled to the brim with cartridges. Workers, faces tense and focused, assemble the rifles, stuff ammo into boxes, and send the finished products off on automated carts. The carts hum along painted track, disappearing into a dark, underground tunnel. Clearly an escape route.

But there's no time to observe the scale of the operation.

Unnoticed by the roar of the machinery, Jade gets to work. She begins by slicing cables, breaking levers, and smashing control panels.

Alarms start blaring. The assembly line grinds to a halt.

The workers finally notice Jade is causing the chaos. She shifts into a ready stance, armed with her bloodied karambits in each hand.

“So,” she taunts, “anyone here want to fight a girl?”

The workers, scramble to draw their rifles. They try to aim, but Jade is already in motion. She closes the distance. A swift kick sends one sprawling, followed by a slice across another's throat. She dives low and slices an ankle, felling another worker. One manages to get a shot off. BANG, the shot reverberates throughout the chamber. The lead projectile slams into a piece of machinery, breaking it as sparks fly.

Jade contorts with annoyance and covers her ears. “Hey! That was very loud!” She unleashes a flurry of slashes all over the poor worker’s body. Death by a thousand cuts.

She looks around, panting in short bursts. No one else remains standing.

“Anyone else?” she taunts, seemingly for her own amusement.

But a voice responds: “Gladly.”

Dreyse emerges from the tunnel, complete his crisp white suit. He is jarringly overdressed, more suited for being in a cocktail party than around grime and machinery.

“The little troublemaker,” he says with a smooth tone. “Why must you ruin the Master's plans?”

“So you're up for a little sparring?” Jade counters, shifting her stance.

“I apologize for the improper introductions the other day. The name is Dreyse.” He bows slightly. “And what's your name, sweetheart?”

“It's Jade,” she snaps. “Remember that name when I carve up your ass.” She launches the first attack, but Dreyse dodges with grace. Another karambit slash, but he swiftly redirects her wrist, spinning her to face away from him.

They begin their spar. Jade attacks with a torrent of rapid kicks, punches, and slashes. Dreyse, in contrast, is evasive, with attacks few, methodical, and precise, never creasing his impeccable white suit.

Jade disengages and leaps back, creating distance to catch her breath and recover. Her breath becomes ragged from excertion.

Dreyse smirks. “You're formidable. How about we put a stop to all this fighting? Might I recommend a dinner date with wine? It will be exquisite.”

“Sorry,” she snarls, panting from exhaustion, “but I don't swing that way.”

They both execute a high kick, and their legs collide with resounding force. Jade breaks away, clearly exhausted. While they may be at the same skill level of combat, Dreyse has more power and stamina.

Jade fakes another kick, Dreyse reacts to block. She opens a slash instead. It connects and makes a cut on Dreyse’s cheek, drawing a thin line of blood that lands on his pristine lapel.

He takes out a silk handkerchief and dabs the blood off his face. His eyes narrow into anger, wiping the smugness off his face.

“You ruined my suit.” His voice is threateningly low.

Dreyse throws a punch with brutal force. The blow connects and sends Jade backward, stunning her with disbelief.

Where did this strength suddenly come from?

…

Locke rushes into the Sakura grove. The beautiful cherry blossoms dot the area, their petals falling slowly at five centimeters per second.

She looks around cautiously, senses on high alert. She reloads her flintlock pistols.

Ray, dashing in a blur of motion, ambushes her from behind, but Locke is ready. His slashes are blocked with the bodies of her pistols, barely scratching on impact. Locke tries to aim, but Ray knocks her wrists, altering her aim away from him. Locke delivers a powerful kick to Ray’s stomach, forcing him back. He rolls backward, before recovering to his feet. Now there is distance between the two.

The moment quiets down, sounds of combat surrounding them fading away. Only the gentle breeze can be felt between the two of them. They pace in a circle, each waiting for the other’s first move, eyes never breaking away from each other. Pink Sakura petals swirl around them, dancing off the ground with each step.

A bead of sweat trickles down both their foreheads.

Ray charges forward, breaking away into a zig-zag pattern.

Locke aims, tracks Ray. Bang. Projectile splinters into a tree trunk.

Locke clicks her tongue. She holsters one pistol and cracks open the other, reaching into her pouch to reload. Ray uses the opportunity to close the distance, dealing a swift kick that sends the pistol flying, splashing into the nearby garden pond.

Locke, startled, reels back and counters with a one-two punch to Ray’s chest, sending him back again.

Ray closes in again, this time with his sword arcing through the air.

Locke unholsters her second pistol. Bang. Ray flinches as the shot grazes him and his sword shatters. He’s knocked to the ground, but otherwise okay.

Locke reloads. Ray dives for cover behind a large Sakura tree. She hesitates, her finger hovering over the trigger. He moves laterally to another tree. Locke breathes deep and hones in her focus.

Patience… A gust of wind.

A petal lands on the hammer of her matchlock pistol. She squeezes the trigger, and a brief electrical discharge sparks from the hammer's tip as it falls forward.

BANG.

The projectile pierces through Ray’s thigh. He trips forward, landing at the edge of the pond. Grimacing through the pain, he reaches past the sharp fragments of his shortsword, looking for it. He finds it. Reaches for it. Pulls Locke’s other pistol out of the water.

She freezes, knowing it’s loaded, hammer cocked back, and ready to fire. If he pulls the trigger, she's dead.

Ray smirks, savoring the power shift to his advantage. He copies what he saw Locke do, and aim the barrel at her.

Click.

Nothing. Wires shorted, powder wet, the firearm is waterlogged. Ray looks on in horror.

She’s saved, somehow. Locke gives a menacing grin.

“Just so you know,” she says as she aims her gun. “Your colleague’s death was nothing personal.”

Boom.

Ray falls backward onto the grass. He’s motionless.

Locke slowly moves toward Ray’s body, her pistol still aimed. Ray’s eyes are closed.

She kicks his body. No reaction. But she can’t be sure. Just in case, she reaches into her pouch and inserts a fresh cartridge in her pistol.

She aims at the body and clicks the hammer back.

Ray snaps to, grabbing the pistol, blocking the hammer with his thumb. Locke pulls the trigger. The hammer slams on Ray’s thumb, the electric tip shocking him. He grimaces, but holds in the pain.

With his free hand, Ray plunges a sharp fragment his shortsword deep into Locke’s gut.

Locke freezes. She looks down at the piece of blade protruding from her abdomen, her stoic expression changing only slightly. She stumbles backward, reaching for any support on the castle parapet.

But as she leans on it, it crumbles, causing her to fall backward into the moat with a splash.

Ray groans in pain and clutches his gut as he unbuckles and flings off his penetrated chest rig. He inspects the pierced armor layers. Embedded lead ball on one side, nothing on the other. He laughs to himself. He just survived.

He tries to stand, but his leg scream with pain and drips with blood. Now being incapable to fight, he can only turn his gaze at the main castle.

“Good luck, Mika...”