COMING BACK HOME PART 2

The fight began, not with a clash of titans, but with a calculated dance of energy and precision. Kimura unleashed a barrage of electrical blasts, each one a potential death sentence. I moved with a speed that defied the limits of human agility, utilizing my Matter Manipulation to create temporary shields, deflecting the bolts away from me. The smoke, still thick in the air, became my ally, obscuring my movements, making it difficult for Kimura to target me. He’s wild, unpredictable, but his power is diminishing.

I countered with bursts of counter-frequency energy from my disruptors, targeting the core of his energy field, the source of his power. Each hit weakened him, causing his movements to become more erratic, his attacks less focused. He’s struggling to maintain control.

The fight raged on, a chaotic ballet of energy and motion. Kimura, his desperation growing, began to utilize the environment, sending shards of shattered glass and twisted metal flying at me with bursts of electricity. I used my Matter Manipulation to create barriers, to deflect the projectiles, to turn the debris against him. He’s getting desperate.

I closed the distance, engaging him in close combat. My suit, reinforced with advanced materials, absorbed the brunt of his electrical attacks, but the force of his blows was immense. I countered with precise strikes, targeting his pressure points, disrupting his flow of energy, weakening him further. He’s strong, but he’s not invincible.

The fight continued, the minutes stretching into an eternity. Kimura, his body battered and bruised, his energy field flickering and collapsing, fought with a ferocity born of desperation. I, my body aching, my energy reserves dwindling, fought with a determination born of necessity. I have to end this.

I manipulated the very air around Kimura, creating a vacuum, cutting off his oxygen supply. He gasped for breath, his movements slowing, his attacks becoming weaker. He’s weakening.

With a final surge of energy, I unleashed a concentrated blast of counter-frequency energy, targeting the core of his energy field. The field collapsed, a visible implosion of power, and Kimura screamed, a sound of pure agony, his body convulsing, his power finally extinguished.

The fight, a grueling test of endurance and skill, had lasted nearly twenty minutes. The room, a scene of utter devastation, was silent, the only sound the rhythmic drumming of the rain against the shattered windows.

...Kimura lay still, his body broken, his power gone. It’s over.

Or so I thought. A low, guttural groan echoed through the smoke-filled room, and Kimura stirred, his hand twitching. No. He can’t… My tactical suit’s AI voice, a cold, clinical tone, interrupted my thoughts. "Suit power at 35% usage. Energy reserves critically low." The mechanical voice echoed in the ruined chamber, a stark reminder of the prolonged struggle. Thirty-five percent? Already?

Kimura, his eyes flickering with a renewed intensity, struggled to his feet. He was battered, broken, his energy field a mere shadow of its former self, but his rage, his sheer, unadulterated hatred, fueled him. "You… you think you’ve won?" he rasped, his voice a strained whisper. "You haven’t seen anything yet!"

He lunged, his movements slow and clumsy, but his eyes burned with a manic intensity. He was a wounded animal, cornered and desperate, lashing out with the last vestiges of his power. I met his charge, my energy disruptors firing, but his erratic movements made it difficult to land a clean hit.

He closed the distance, his hands grasping for me, his fingers crackling with residual electricity. I dodged and weaved, utilizing the debris-strewn floor as cover, but he was relentless, his attacks growing more desperate, more unpredictable. He’s a cornered beast.

He grabbed a loose piece of twisted metal, a jagged shard of steel, and swung it at me, his movements fueled by pure, unbridled rage. I blocked the blow, the impact sending a jolt through my arm, but he pressed the attack, his movements becoming a chaotic flurry of strikes.

"You can’t stop me!" he screamed, his voice a raw, primal sound. "I’m beyond your control!"

He was right. He wasn’t operating on logic anymore; he operated on pure animalistic rage. He was a force of nature, a tempest of destruction, and I was running out of time, running out of power.

I need a new approach. I thought, my mind racing, searching for a solution. I couldn’t overpower him; I couldn’t outlast him. I needed to outsmart him.

I used my Matter Manipulation to create a series of illusions, shimmering images of myself, designed to distract him, to disorient him. He lashed out at the illusions, his attacks growing wilder, more frantic. He’s losing his grip on reality.

While he was distracted, I manipulated the remaining debris, creating a series of makeshift restraints, a network of twisted metal and reinforced concrete. I needed to bind him, to contain him, to neutralize him before he could unleash another wave of destruction.

Suddenly, a voice crackled through my comm unit, cutting through the silence of the ruined chamber. "Crow! We're analyzing your suit. It's losing energy, fast!" Sergeant Kurada's voice, usually a model of calm professionalism, was laced with undisguised disquiet. "We're detecting a critical power drain. You need to disengage, now!"

His voice was filled with a disquiet that mirrored my own. I glanced at my wrist unit, the holographic display flickering erratically, the power indicator flashing a warning red. Thirty-five percent, and dropping. The prolonged fight, the constant manipulation of matter, the strain of the counter-frequency assault—it had taken a toll.

"I'm aware, Sergeant," I replied, my voice steady, though a flicker of concern registered in my mind. "I'm attempting to contain the target."

"Containment is secondary, Crow!" Kurada's voice rose, his urgency palpable. "Your life is paramount! We're detecting a catastrophic power failure imminent. You need to get out of there!"

The restraints around Kimura groaned, the twisted metal bending under the strain of his residual energy. He was still fighting, still trying to break free. I don’t have much time.

"I can't leave him like this," I said, my voice tight. "He's still a threat."

"We'll handle it, Crow!" Kurada insisted. "We have backup end route. Just get out of there! Now!"

The comm unit crackled, the signal fading in and out, a testament to the damaged state of the building's infrastructure. They're right. I'm running out of time.

I looked at Kimura, his eyes burning with hatred, his body straining against the restraints. I have to make this quick. I couldn't risk a full suit failure, not with him still conscious. I needed to neutralize him completely, permanently.

My suit's AI voice, a chillingly calm monotone, cut through the tension. "Suit power at 25% usage. Critical systems failing." Twenty-five percent. And he’s… recharging? In the distance, through the smoke and debris, I saw it: a faint, pulsating glow emanating from Kimura's restrained form. It was a subtle shift, a barely perceptible surge of energy, but it was there. He's drawing power from the residual electricity in the building. He's adapting.

"Captain, Sergeant," I said, my voice urgent, "I have a situation. Kimura is regenerating. I need to construct a Faraday cage, a complete electromagnetic enclosure, to contain him. I'll use the remaining metal debris and my Matter Manipulation. It's the only way to ensure he doesn't escape or regain his full power."

"A Faraday cage?" Takeda's voice, though strained, was sharp and precise. "That's a significant energy expenditure, Crow. Can your suit handle it?"

"It's a calculated risk, Captain," I replied, my voice steady. "But it's the only option. If I don't act now, he'll break free and we'll be back where we started, or worse. I'll prioritize efficiency, minimize the energy drain as much as possible. I'll weave a dense mesh of metal, grounding it to the building's structural supports. It will be a tight fit, but it will work. I just need a few more minutes."

"Understood, Crow," Kurada said, his voice laced with concern. "We're monitoring your suit's energy levels. Just… just be quick." He paused, a flicker of hesitation in his tone. "Look, Crow, I'm not going to sugarcoat it. We're reading a precipitous drop in your suit's power. This Faraday cage, it's a monumental undertaking, a veritable Herculean task. We're talking about a potential catastrophic failure, a complete system collapse. You're flirting with the absolute nadir of operational capacity. I still maintain that exfiltration is the optimal course of action, the prudent, nay, the sine qua none of survival. But, given the exigencies of the situation, the undeniable threat Kimura poses, I concede that your proposal, while fraught with peril, is the only viable, albeit precarious, expedient. Just understand, Crow, this is a high-stakes gamble, a veritable roll of the dice. We're putting all our eggs in one basket, so to speak. Make it count."

A surge of relief washed over me, a fleeting moment of triumph. I had done it. I had contained him. The Faraday cage, a shimmering, metallic prison, held Kimura captive, his energy signature a muted glow within its confines. It’s over. But then, a deafening explosion ripped through the building, the force of the blast throwing me against the wall. The world tilted, the air thick with dust and the acrid smell of ozone. What was that? The Faraday cage, my masterpiece, my last line of defense, buckled, its shimmering surface cracking, the metallic mesh distorting. No… A wave of fear, cold and paralyzing, washed over me. I tried to rise, to move, but my body felt heavy, unresponsive. The suit, its power reserves depleted, was failing, its systems shutting down. I can’t move.

The building groaned, the structure shuddering violently. A cascade of debris rained down, burying me under a mountain of concrete and shattered glass. My vision blurred, the world fading into a chaotic blur of colors and sounds. The AI voice, a whisper now, issued a final warning. "Critical systems failure imminent. Initiating emergency shutdown protocols."

Then, silence. A suffocating, all-encompassing silence.

No…

"Your… resistance… is… amusing,” Kimura sneered, his voice amplified by the electrical energy crackling around him. “You… delude… yourself… with… the… illusion… of… control. You… cannot… prevail… against… my… ascendant… power. Observe… your… pathetic… struggle. I… have… witnessed… your… ki

nd… before—self-righteous… idealists… clinging… to… the… antiquated… notion… of… heroism. In… the… end… you… are… all… uniformly… inconsequential.”  

Kimura’s voice vibrated, a low, guttural hum that resonated through the ruined chamber. It was a sound that seemed to emanate from the very air itself, a testament to the raw power that pulsed within him. He stood amidst the wreckage, his form silhouetted against the storm-wracked sky, a figure of terrifying power. The shattered remains of the Faraday cage lay scattered around him, a testament to his destructive force. He was free, unbound, his power surging, his rage unchecked.

My vision, still blurred and distorted, struggled to focus. My body, trapped beneath the rubble, felt numb, unresponsive. The suit, its systems offline, was a useless shell, a metal coffin. I could hear the faint, rhythmic thumping of my heart, a desperate, fading drumbeat against the silence.

Kimura’s words, though laced with arrogance and contempt, echoed in my mind. Inconsequential. Was he right? Had my efforts been in vain? Had I failed? The thought, a cold, hard knot of despair, tightened in my chest.

He moved towards me, his footsteps heavy, deliberate, each step a pronouncement of his dominance. The electrical energy around him crackled and pulsed, illuminating his face, a mask of cruel satisfaction. He’s going to finish me.

I closed my eyes, bracing for the final blow. But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt a wave of intense heat, the air around me shimmering and distorting. He’s charging up.  

"You… will… witness… the… true… extent… of… my… power,” he said, his voice a low, menacing growl. “And… you… will… understand… your… insignificance.”  

'Time… I just need more time.' Time… I just need more time. The thought echoed in my mind, a mantra of desperation and unwavering determination. I couldn’t let him win – not here, not now. The reinforcements were close; I could feel it. I just had to hold on a little longer.

The sound of boots thudding up the stairwell grew louder, a rhythmic drumbeat of hope. A voice, authoritarian and commanding, cut through the cacophony of destruction. “Freeze!” the voice demanded, the tone as sharp and decisive as a honed blade.

I turned to see a figure emerging from the shadows, clad in the distinctive tactical uniform of the Special Combat Detachment (SCD). The uniform, predominantly black with dark blue accents seamlessly integrated for optimal camouflage in low-light conditions, was designed for both stealth and close-quarters combat. A tactical vest, covered in MOLLE webbing and various pouches, carried essential equipment and ammunition. Reinforced plating on the shoulders and arms suggested advanced composite materials, built for high-impact scenarios. The gloves featured reinforced knuckles constructed from Xenium, a lightweight alloy renowned for its exceptional strength and impact absorption. These knuckles, coupled with internal sensors, could detect and analyze the force of impact, providing real-time feedback to the wearer. The gloves also incorporated micro-fiber technology for enhanced grip and dexterity. A communication device was strapped to his left wrist, and he held a digital display device in his right hand, its screen glowing faintly in the dim light, displaying tactical data, including the scavenger’s position and energy levels, enabling real-time strategic adjustments.

Each member of the SCD team locked their sights on the scavenger, their weapons raised in perfect synchronization. Their presence was imposing, a beacon of unwavering authority amidst the swirling chaos. “Yes! Finally, they’re here!” I exclaimed; my voice filled with relief and a surge of adrenaline. I was running on fumes; the power in my suit was nearing critical levels. “Hu~huh-hhah!” I began to pant, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. I was utterly exhausted, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. I had done what I could to delay him, and thankfully, my team had arrived just in time.

My battle suit’s power levels were critically low, down to a mere five percent. I could barely move, my body aching from the immense strain. One of my teammates rushed over, concern etched on his face. “Are you alright, Fujita?”

Kondou,” I managed to gasp. This was Kondou, Masahiko, a Sergeant First Class, typically in his early thirties. “You did well, Enkai. We’ve got this from here. Just stand back. What’s your suit…?”

Five percent energy depletion in tactical suit. Five percent energy depletion in tactical suit,” the artificial intelligence’s voice droned.

Oh, I see,” Sergeant Kondou replied. He and the rest of the squad moved with practiced efficiency, allowing me to retreat and for my suit’s systems to begin a slow recharge. At that moment, I was completely spent, utterly incapable of further action. I had to trust them to handle the situation. As I watched them take control, I felt a wave of relief wash over me, quickly followed by a gnawing frustration. I was useless, a liability. I hated feeling so helpless, unable to contribute. My mind raced, already formulating plans to improve my suit’s endurance for future encounters. But right now, I needed to focus on recharging my depleted energy reserves. I was exhausted… my body… in agony. I began to groan in discomfort.

The coordination of the SCD team was impeccable. Like a well-oiled machine, they moved with precision and purpose, each member knowing their role and executing it flawlessly. The scavenger, who had moments before been a formidable threat, now found himself cornered, his defiant aggression crumbling under the relentless, coordinated assault. The sharp reports of gunfire and the crackle of energy weapons filled the air, a symphony of destruction echoing through the abandoned skyscraper.

As I watched from the sidelines, my body still trembling from exhaustion, I couldn’t suppress a pang of envy. My suit was slowly, agonizingly, recharging. Sergeant Kondou, with his imposing presence, stepped forward, radiating an aura of calm command. His unique ability, known as “Graviton Manipulation,” allowed him to control gravitational forces with incredible precision. Instead of a hand gesture, Kondou activated his ability through a specialized device embedded in his suit’s gauntlet. With a quick tap on the device, the air around him seemed to shimmer and distort. The scavenger, sensing the imminent threat, attempted to retaliate with a desperate surge of electricity, but Kondou was faster.

He unleashed a focused gravitational wave, pinning the scavenger to the ground with an invisible, crushing force. The scavenger struggled against the immense pressure; his bio-electrical powers rendered useless against the overwhelming gravitational field. Despite my frustration at being sidelined, I knew I had to concentrate on recovery. My suit’s power levels were slowly climbing, the artificial intelligence system working tirelessly to restore functionality.

I took deep, steadying breaths, trying to calm my racing heart and alleviate the throbbing pain in my muscles. The battle raged on, but my mind was already looking ahead, planning upgrades and modifications to ensure I wouldn’t be a spectator again. The scavenger’s capture was imminent, and as the final, decisive blow was struck, I felt a surge of renewed determination. Next time, I would be ready. Next time, I would stand alongside my team, not as a burden, but as a force to be reckoned with.

Kondou’s jet-black hair was cropped short, practical for combat, with a few strands of silver hinting at the weight of responsibility he carried. His sharp, dark eyes were constantly alert, scanning the surroundings with an intense focus. His physique was lean and athletic, a testament to his rigorous training and unwavering dedication to the team. His mere presence was enough to inspire his teammates and intimidate his adversaries (including Kenzo, the now-captured scavenger). “Sixty percent energy available for tactical suit operations. Sixty percent energy available,” the AI’s voice announced within my helmet. Is it enough? I wondered. Enough to rejoin the fight? Enough to keep the scavenger contained?

The clash between Kondou and the scavenger reached a fever pitch. Kondou’s gravitational waves, an invisible tempest, held Kenzo captive, yet the scavenger, a storm of defiance, raged against this unseen restraint. His electrical surges, like lightning strikes against an unyielding mountain, cracked and sputtered against the gravitational barrier. Kondou, a bastion of calm amidst the electric storm, never wavered; his eyes, twin pools of icy resolve, remained locked on the struggling scavenger, calculating every desperate twitch, every frantic flicker of energy. The air, thick with anticipation, crackled with a palpable tension that made my skin prickle (a silent scream of impending power). Kenzo, a cornered beast, unleashed a guttural roar of frustration, his body contorting and straining against the invisible bonds as he desperately sought a means of escape. Sparks, like rebellious fireflies, flew from his fingertips, only to be snuffed out by Kondou’s unyielding gravitational field.

Kondou, a statue carved from granite, took a measured step forward, his gauntlet, a conduit of cosmic power, glowing with an ominous, electric blue light.

With a swift, decisive motion, he amplified the gravitational pressure, forcing Kenzo to his knees. The scavenger’s defiance, a fragile shield against an overwhelming tide, shattered; his once formidable presence was reduced to a desperate, pathetic struggle. I watched in awe as Kondou, a master craftsman of gravity, maintained his unwavering control, each movement precise and deliberate, a brushstroke in a masterpiece of power.

The rest of the SCD team, an ensemble of seasoned professionals, moved in with practiced efficiency, securing the perimeter—a bulwark against any unforeseen threats. My suit’s power levels, a rising tide of energy, continued to climb, the AI, a tireless engine of restoration, working diligently to restore full functionality. I could feel my strength returning, the gnawing pain in my muscles, a fading echo of past exertion, easing as the suit’s systems, like dormant giants awakening, came back online. Kondou’s voice, a clarion call through the lingering chaos, was calm and authoritative. “Fujita, status report.”

Sixty-five percent and climbing,” I replied, my voice steadier now, a testament to my recovering strength. “I can rejoin the fight if needed, sir!”

Hold your position. We’re almost finished here,” Sergeant Kondou’s voice came through clearly, his focus unwavering. With a final, decisive surge of power, Kondou’s gravitational wave intensified, pinning Kenzo completely. The scavenger’s struggles ceased—his body slumping in abject defeat, a marionette with its strings cut.

Kondou’s leadership, a beacon in the darkness, and the team’s flawless execution, a symphony of coordinated action, had decisively turned the tide of the battle. He signaled to the team to move in and secure the scavenger, binding him with specialized restraints designed to neutralize his erratic electrical abilities (a technological shackle for a volatile force). As the team secured Kenzo, Captain Takeda, his face etched with concern, walked over to me. “Are you alright, Fujita?” he asked, his voice steady and reassuring, a balm to my still-jangled nerves. “We need to contain Kenzo in the Faraday cage you designed. Are you up to it?” The AI’s voice echoed from the communication network. “Eighty percent energy availability for tactical suit operations. Eighty percent energy availability.” I took a deep breath, feeling the revitalizing

With renewed strength, I activated the suit’s systems and began constructing the Faraday cage. The scavenger, now subdued and restrained, watched helplessly as the cage, a prison of science, took shape around him. Other team members contributed, each piece of the cage clicking into place with a satisfying snap (a sound of finality). We had done it. The scavenger was contained. “Excellent work, Fujita,” Captain Takeda commended. “Let’s secure him and move him out.”

Roger that!” we all replied in unison.

Division X moved downstairs, our footsteps, a rhythmic cadence, echoing through the now-silent halls. As we descended, my mind, a whirlwind of anxieties, raced with thoughts of the hostages. Were they alright? Was everyone safe? Had anyone been injured? The questions, like persistent whispers, looped endlessly in my mind. When we finally emerged outside, I scanned the area and saw them – alive and well. A wave of profound relief washed over me, and I allowed myself a small, satisfied grin. Like watchful guardians, the helicopters continued to circle overhead, their lights cutting through the inky night sky.

There was only one thing on my mind now: sleep.

[Fujita, Enkai. Gender- male. Age 15. Junior high student. Third year- class 3-2. Education- public servant. Job- Dispatcher.]