Redaction Strike

The words had barely left Coral’s mouth when he raised a hand. His fingers flexed like he was giving the handsign for the reverse jellyfish, his fingers like a sea anemone. From the air, a single glowing bookmark with a ribbon attached to the hole punch was conjured, its edges humming with unnatural light.

With a flick of his wrist, the Index String lashed forward.

It struck the dirt in front of Joren with a whizzing sound, then another that sounded like it splatted into water as it connected. The ground disappeared. A neat block of earth momentarily erased itself from existence, leaving only a small hole in its place.

Joren’s breath caught in his throat. The hole was clean, unnatural, its edges too perfect to be the work of any blade or blast. His stomach twisted at the thought of what it would’ve done to him if he’d been a step closer.

Coral’s monocle swung lazily, catching the firelight as he tilted his head. “One entry filed,” he crooned, his voice lilting like a clerk reading out a form. “Dirt pile is now redacted from my Redaction Strike."

Willow darted in, blade-arm flashing through the haze. “Let’s see you file this!”

Coral didn’t even blink at the approaching girl. He rotated his cabinet and slid open a middle drawer with a lazy push, using it as a shield of sorts. Willow’s blade sparked against it and rebounded with a jarring clang, too fast for her to even process as she was attacking.

Willow skidded back, teeth bared. “What the hell? Did he just parry me with a drawer?” Joren’s stomach twisted. He could see the sparks from Willow's attack, but the speed at which he made the counter was too much to deal with.

Too fast… I didn’t even see him move it that far.

Coral calmly slid the drawer shut, the whump echoing like a stamp pressed to paper. His monocle swung as he tilted his head. “Urgency doesn't staple the papers..."

Gus stepped forward before Willow could lunge again. He pushed her back with one arm, eyes fixed on Coral. “I’ll take this one.”

Willow clenched her jaw but fell back, her blade shifting halfway to flesh again.

Coral’s grin widened, his fingers brushing the cabinet’s handles like he was choosing a file. “Ahhh, sturdier cardstock, stronger spine. Prepare for the same treatment.”

The lower second drawer shot outward with a metallic roar without as much of a move from Coral, expanding across the yard in a comically strange way. Gus met it head-on in the shock of a drawer reaching this far, boots grinding into the dirt as he braced both arms against the steel slab ramming into him. The impact thundered through the ground, rattling loose stones and kicking up a dust cloud.

For a moment, he held it. Muscles shown tight, teeth gritted, Gus forced the drawer to a grinding halt, then just as suddenly, lost his footing to the ever-expanding drawer.

The ground parted in his wake, trenches carving as he slid backwards. Gus let out a strained sound, a woah following the loss of balance, until the drawer shoved him clean off his feet. He toppled sideways, rolling across the dirt before skidding to a stop on his back.

Willow moved a step toward him, but Gus waved her back with a shake of his hand, breath heaving. “I’m fine.”

Coral tapped the edge of the drawer as it retracted, his monocle swinging lazily. “As expected. Folders resist overpacking, but the filer always wins.”

Joren’s pulse quickened slightly. Watching Gus forced back by a slab of metal stretched beyond its own limits was like seeing the rules of the world casually broken. This was no slouch, just like he said.

What type of game-plan would help us take this guy down? He must be at least Harbinger, maybe even cataclysm. Can we win against someone like that?

Joren's thoughts on his ranking were somewhat correct. Just like Tsunami, Commander Coral falls under the Harbinger class as well.

Joren’s mind scrambled, clinging to fragments of possible countermeasures. If they focused on the cabinet, maybe—no. It moved too fast to get away from him. What about overwhelming him all at once? There was little he could rack his brain to come up with, ultimately realizing that the cabinet was like an extension of himself, just as if it were another limb.

Before Joren could force his next breath, Bart made a noise behind him, halfway between a cough and a declaration. “Well, if the battlefield is drawers, I won’t be outdone.”

He hefted the wedge of cheese he’d somehow held onto all this time, wound his arm back, and hurled it like a stone. The lump spun end over end through the haze.

Coral’s monocle glimmered. With tap of his knuckles, the upper third drawer slid open, the cheese being sucked in like a vacuum without the noise.

Coral patted the drawer’s face with fond approval. “Filed. Section D. Subheading Three: dairy perishables. Although smoked, it is quite repugnant."

Bart’s jaw dropped. “Repugnant? That was aged three years! THREE! The smokiness was from that fire in the building."

“Bart!” Willow snapped, her blade-arm twitching back into full form. “Stop arguing with the lunatic filing your cheese away. Joren, what should we do?”

Joren’s throat tightened. His mind was still scrambling for an answer, but every plan felt paper-thin against the commander. "Let's just play off each other and fight him four on one, like he wanted. Overwhelming him on all fronts could give us an opening, so be ready."

Willow nodded sharply, her blade snapping back into full length. “Fine. Then I’ll carve the first opening.”

Gus wiped dirt from his mouth, pushing up to his feet again. His arms flexed, steadying. “You got it. I’ll knock his socks off if I can."

Bart stumbled back into position, adjusting his coat like a soldier prepping for parade. “And I will… uh… provide guerilla warfare."

Coral chuckled, his grin twisting wider. “At last. Four headers aligned beneath one title. How tidy.” His hand rose, fingers curling in that strange reverse-jellyfish shape. Another glowing string shimmered into existence, then several more. “Let us test the hypothesis of… overwhelming on all fronts.”

The ribbons quivered in the air like bookmarks ripped from an invisible accounting book, their edges humming with energy. Each bookmark pointed at a different target, ready for the moment Coral sent them flying.

The strings shot forward in a burst like paper turned into throwing knives.

“Scatter! Avoid them and don't let one hit you!” Joren shouted, his voice breaking through the chaos.

Willow dove to the side, a string carving a perfect groove through the ground where she’d stood. Gus twisted his shoulders, the edge grazing across his sleeve and leaving a redaction of space in his shirt, now just a hole.

Bart shrieked and threw himself flat, a ribbon snapping past his head close enough to shear a flap of the back of his coat clean away. “I—I liked that coat!” he wheezed, scrambling to his knees.

Joren ducked low, tossing a very mini star at the paper with enough precision to hit it head on. The paper burnt away in the immense white-hot flare, it too sputtering out only seconds later.

Coral’s monocle gleamed as he watched the ribbon disintegrate. Instead of anger, his grin only stretched wider. He tapped the side of the cabinet in a rhythmic way using his fingers. “Ahhh… how remarkable. Noted. I'll add that to your growing file."

Gus spat into the dirt, rolling his shoulders despite the fresh hole in his shirt. The hole tore a little bit at the movement. “Doesn’t matter how many drawers you’ve got, you’ll lose before we do.”

Coral’s grin widened as he slid the top drawer open. The metal groaned, extending farther than expected, but not nearly as much as that one drawer. From inside, he plucked another weapon. It was another sword, this time a shorter one for more maneuverability. It didn't seem to be an artifact.

Willow’s lips curled into a snarl. “So he’s just stocked an entire armory in there? I bet there is enough for the entire army.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Gus grunted, steadying his stance beside her. “Two swords or ten, we hit him together.”

The group surged forward as one.

Willow cut high, blade-arm arcing toward his chest. Gus came running from the side, prepping himself for when he planted his foot to release his punch like a whip. Bart started kicking up a storm of dust as he made his way behind, getting ready to release a flurry of punches like a cat. Joren started launching small pebbles from as many angles as he could, prepping a star for a flash.

Coral met them without hesitation. The short sword whipped up in a tight arc, intercepting Willow’s strike mid-swing. Sparks showered across his grin as he connected, knocking her arm blade back. It was quite impressive considering the sheer sturdiness of his arm at an awkward angle.

Gus did execute his plan like he wanted, however, the object of his attack turned out to be none other than a wall of steel. Coral wheeled the cabinet loosely with his other arm, placing it in such a way that blocked Gus's punch perfectly and in surprising speed. Gus didn't think he could move the cabinet so fast while taking on Willow's strike at the same time.

The impact rattled through Gus’s arm, the steel wall unyielding. He staggered a step back, shaking out his fist with a grimace from how much it hurt to hit a solid surface that didn't even dent from the impact.

Bart rushed in also at the same time, masked by dust and his arms pumping in a ragged flurry of punches. His plan had far more success in execution, actually finding himself able to connect his hits with the back of Coral. Distraction was his best strategy after all.

Coral did find himself slightly surprised to feel many little pokes happening on his back, to which he looked back over his shoulder and kicked his leg backwards into Bart's crotch.

Bart let out a strangled squeak and folded over like a paperclip, collapsing into the dirt in a heap as he grabbed at his now exceedingly pained balls.

Coral’s grin never slipped. “Files corrected in record time."

He rotated back in one smooth motion, short sword flashing up just in time to meet Willow again, pebbles starting to annoy him as he couldn't block them all.

She came in with another slash from the side, this time lower, angling for his ribs. Sparks burst as steel met her morphing arm again, her teeth clenched in frustration. “He doesn’t even slow down—!”

Gus grunted, shaking out his stinging knuckles. He opted to start closing the distance again and trying for jabs rather than full on strikes, trying to play off of anything he could.

Coral pivoted on his heel, the cabinet wheels screeching as he swung it in rhythm with his blade. Each jab from Gus was met with a precise shift of steel, the drawers sliding open and shut like shutters, deflecting his fists with unnatural timing.

Joren grit his teeth, focusing on the tiny pebbles he kept flinging. Each one cracked against the cabinet, forcing Coral to adjust, but none of them broke through. He released his flashbang star, to which Coral just closed his eyes and started fighting blind. His smile grew even wider and more manic.

"This is wonderful! It's been so long since I've met such spirited reports!"

Willow slashed again, her arm-blade cutting low, but Coral’s sword intercepted it mid-swing, sparks scattering across his grin. He twisted, using the cabinet to slam into Willow like a battering ram. Gus was able to get a few jabs in at that opening, but they didn't sway their chances of winning much.

Willow hit the ground hard, rolling back to her feet with a snarl. Her blade reformed in an instant, the metallic shimmer of her morph flickering under the haze. “Damn it! He’s reading every move even while blind.”

Gus pressed closer, jabs snapping against Coral’s ribs and back. The hits landed, thudding against flesh, but Coral’s stance never broke. He gave Gus the same treatment as Willow with the cabinet. Gus still stood on his feet after being sent a few yards away.

Joren launched a star like a baseball, sending it hurtling towards Coral's chest at speeds he shouldn't be able to keep up with. To Joren's surprise, the third drawer opened again, absorbing it into his catalogue of 'files'.

Coral chuckled, his grin wider than ever. “Ahhh… combustion entry. Now cross-filed under hazardous materials... hmm-hm-hmm.” He tapped the front of the now closed drawer with a fond knuckle rap, like a teacher pleased with his own work.

Willow braced, blade-arm trembling with fury. Gus reset his stance despite the ache in his fists. Bart groaned but forced himself upright, one hand clutching his stomach, the other curling into a fist.

Joren had to go in for close-combat like Gus if he wanted to have any chance for success. Clearly projectiles and tricks wouldn't work on this guy like any of the other opponents he'd faced before.

Coral’s grin widened, cabinet rattling at his back. The monocle swung in time with his words. “Yes… all entries aligned. Now the recordkeeping may truly begin.”