Berserk

Neon moved in the blink of an eye.

The first soldier barely had time to react before Neon's blade cleaved through the air and struck with bone-crushing force. The impact sent the man flying backward, his armor crumpling inward where the blow had landed. He crashed onto the concrete, motionless, his weapon skidding away in a shower of sparks.

Neon didn’t pause.

The moment the first soldier fell, he was already on the next. His weapon shifted to a twin-edged dagger. He drove it into the second soldier’s shoulder, twisting deep, metal groaning under the pressure. The man choked on a cry as Neon ripped the weapon free, sending him sprawling to the ground, clutching his wound.

There was no hesitation. Only destruction.

The third soldier raised his rifle, desperate. He fired, but Neon was faster again. He lunged, his arm snapping forward. His fist slammed into the soldier’s gut, a brutal strike that sent the man’s body folding inward.

The soldier staggered, wheezing, but Neon wasn’t done. He wrenched the rifle from his hands and flipped it in one fluid motion before slamming the butt of it into his helmet. The crack of metal rang through the air as the soldier crumpled, barely conscious.

 Aria could barely keep up.

She had seen Neon fight before. Calculated, precise, ruthless when necessary. This was something else entirely. This wasn’t skill. This wasn’t the same discipline with which he had previously fought.

This was fury.

Raw, seething, merciless.

She took a step back, her pulse hammering in her skull. The tether connecting them, meant to keep them in sync, jerked violently, yanking her forward. The sudden force sent her stumbling, her boots scraping against the ground as she struggled to stay upright.

Then he moved again.

She had no time to react before she was dragged  with him. Neon shot forward without consideration, his body nothing more than a blur, and Aria was wrenched along like dead weight. 

Her feet barely skimmed the ground before the momentum ripped them from under her, sending her crashing to her knees.

A sharp cry tore from her throat, pain splintering up her leg, but Neon didn’t even glance back.

He didn’t see her.

Another soldier fell. Another crack of metal against bone.

The tether yanked again.

Aria barely had time to brace before she was slammed against a crumbling wall. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, white-hot pain searing through her chest. She gasped, vision blurring, and slid to the ground, her limbs trembling under the weight of exhaustion.

Neon didn’t stop.

The fourth soldier went down, his body collapsing like a ragdoll. He barely twitched, barely breathed.

Four down. One left.

Neon turned slowly. His breath was ragged, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his shifting weapon. The last figure stood frozen, blade clutched in shaking hands. His eyes darted between Neon and the others strewn across the battlefield, his chest rising and falling in rapid, panicked gasps.

He knew what was coming.

Neon took a step forward.

Aria, still on the ground, could feel it. The way the air thickened, charged with something dark, suffocating. She had never felt killing intent before, but she knew— instinctively, with every nerve screaming at her—that this was it.

Neon was going to kill him.

Her breath came in sharp, uneven bursts. Pain pulsed in her side, her legs felt weak, but she moved regardless, tightening her grip around the makeshift weapon in her hand.

One small step.

Another one.

Her feet dragged against the ground. She forced herself forward, gasping for air, pushing through the pain clawing at her ribs.

Neon raised his weapon.

Aria clenched her jaw and shoved harder, willing her body to move faster.

Neon lunged.

Aria broke into a sprint behind him.

Neon’s body tensed. His instincts flared. Aria threw her weapon away at the last second and opened up her arms wide, gathering speed. 

She slammed into him.

The impact knocked them both off their feet, rolling across dirt and rubble. The world spun violently until, finally, they came to a stop. Aria lay on top of him, her hands on his chest, her breath ragged and uneven.

Neon tensed beneath her, his muscles rigid, coiled, ready to fight.

She clung to him, gripping him tight, refusing to let go.

"Wake up," she screamed. "You idiot!" 

For a moment, he didn’t move.

"Neon..."

His chest rose and fell in heavy, erratic breaths. The rage hadn’t left him, still crackling beneath his skin, still burning in his eyes.

She didn’t care.

She held on, her fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket, grounding him, keeping him here.

“…Neon.”

A hush settled over the battlefield, thick and suffocating. Neon’s ragged breathing filled the silence, his pulse still furious, his muscles still tensed, ready to lash out.

But Aria didn’t let go.

She stayed pressed against him, her grip firm, her breath warm and shallow against his bodysuit. Slowly, the fire in his veins dimmed, the haze lifting just enough for his surroundings to sharpen. The destruction, the bodies, and then his own hands.

Then something shifted.

A whisper of movement on the edge of perception.

Aria stiffened first. Neon felt it through the tether. A sudden unease rippling through her body like a warning siren. Her head turned, and instinctively, so did his.

A figure stood in the distance.

Shrouded in darkness. Unmoving. Watching.

Neon’s eyes narrowed, adrenaline surging anew. The figure was too far away to have just appeared, yet he hadn’t noticed them before. Had they been there the entire time?

Aria blinked— once.

And the figure was gone.

No, not gone.

There was no time to react. A shadow loomed over him. A flash of movement. A foot connected with Neon´s side like a battering ram.

Pain exploded through his ribs as he was launched backward. His body slammed into the wall with a sickening crack, dust and debris cascading around him. He slumped forward, vision flickering, struggling to breathe.

What the hell just happened?

The figure stood where he had been an instant before, as if materializing out of thin air. Cloaked in flowing black fabric, their presence was intense, even more so than the other soldiers.

Aria scrambled to her feet, eyes wide with disbelief.

Neon groaned, pressing a hand against his ribs, but the pain barely registered. His mind reeled, trying to process what he had just witnessed. He had fought fast opponents before, but this—

This wasn’t speed. It was something else entirely.

The figure paid him no mind.

Instead, it turned, it´s focus shifting to the five fallen soldiers. A flick of the wrist. A ripple of air.

And just like that, they stirred.

Neon barely saw it—something intangible, something unseen—but the soldiers moved as if yanked back from the brink of unconsciousness. Injuries sealed shut. Blood vanished from armor. Broken bodies stood whole again.

Aria took a step back, her breathing uneven. The soldiers didn’t hesitate. They gathered themselves quickly, stepping behind the cloaked figure.

The figure turned, finally meeting Aria’s gaze.

For a single moment, it felt like they locked eyes.

Aria’s heart stilled. There was no malice in that gaze. No anger, no satisfaction. Just cold, effortless knowing.

Then they vanished.

Not in a blur of motion. Not in a flicker of light.

One second, they were there. The next, the battlefield was empty.

The five soldiers along with the cloaked figure. Gone. Silence swallowed the space they left behind.

Aria barely breathed. Her hands trembled at her sides, her heart hammering against her ribs. She turned slowly, looking toward Neon, who still sat slumped against the wall, his eyes fixed on the spot where the figure had just stood.

He exhaled, his voice hoarse.

“…Who the hell was that?”

And with that, his consciousness finally faded and everything went black.