Chapter 11: You Already Lost
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"Sarah didn't get to fight back… but I will. For her."
—Amelia
---
Iron Maw rose to one knee in front of Backlash who stood casually in front of it.
Backlash:
"My name is Backlash. An Elite Hero—you've probably heard the whispers. But I'm guessing you don't know my power. If you did, you'd understand that there's no point in attacking me. So listen close, big guy."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"My superpower is Recoil."
"I absorb the force of any impact directed at me, then unleash it.
Through punches. Ground slams. Or to temporarily boost my physical might."
He stepped forward slightly, confident.
"That's how I caught your monstrous hand. Just before its crushing force could pulverize that girl—I swooped in like a through hero and I absorbed all of it."
A smug grows on his face.
"Redirected it into my palm. My hand became as powerful as your blow… and I caught it without breaking a sweat."
"That's the same reason why your punch didn't leave a scratch. Because I drank in all its force. I used some of it to vault above you… and unleashed the rest in that punch you felt. A taste of your own medicine."
He smirked.
"Impressive, isn't it?"
Iron Maw goes quiet, it doesn't respond as it stares down at Backlash.
Backlash stood effortlessly, cocky grin on his face.
Backlash:
"What's with the quiet act, big fella? Finally figured out there's no point swinging at me?"
Still silent, Iron Maw raised a massive fist. Slow. Intentional. A puff of air hissed from its nostrils.
Then—
BAM! BAM! BAM!
A furious barrage of fists. Iron Maw rained down blow after blow. Quicker. Harder. Each punch a thunderclap. The ground shattered beneath it.
And then, silence as it stopped.
The dust thickened. Swirled and Settled.
Backlash coughed, buried to his shoulders in cracked earth, a dry rasp escaping his throat. He pushed himself up.
Backlash:
"Honestly,"
he groaned, rising to his feet. He was unhurt.
"I'd hoped you weren't one of those transformation-type superhumans who lose their minds after transforming… but I guess I was wrong."
He dusted himself off. His entire body now glowed, aura crackling a brighter gold.
The smirk vanished. His eyes hardened.
Backlash:
"You're just a big, dumb tank, huh?" A serious tone in his voice.
---
Meanwhile...
Amelia, Zephyra, and Joe stood ready—shoulders squared, eyes sharp—facing two figures who radiated menace.
Zephyra:
"Cyantra and Igris... Notorious First Class Villains."
Her voice was tight. Tense.
Cyantra:
"Looks like we're popular in the Garden, Igris."
Igris:
"Oh, really? Since we're celebrities, maybe we should hand out autographs." He jumped to the ground and started heading towards Amelia, Joe and Zephyra who took their battle stance.
He cracked his knuckles. Sparks burst with each pop, small hurts of flame flaring in out of his knuckles. His leather jacket flared with the motion.
Cyantra:
"With pleasure."
She raised her hand. A crystal arrow shimmered into existence in her palm, gleaming and sharp.
Zephyra:
"They're both killers, dangerous killers. Stay ba—"
She said to Amelia but it was too late.
Amelia charged. A shout of fury tore from her throat as she rushed straight at them.
Zephyra:
"Damn it!"
Amelia gave chase, aura sprawling around her.
Cyantra leapt into the air, drawing her bow. An arrow manifested into a dozen arrows midair.
Swish!
A hailstorm of crystal rained down.
Zephyra yanked Amelia aside just in time. They rolled across the ground as arrows thudded around them, most of them shattering on impact.
Cyantra landed hard and advanced, letting loose another volley. The air rang with the sound of shards slicing wind.
Dashing, ducking, diving—the three women began battling in a whirlwind of gleaming arrows and near-misses. As they fought, they drifted farther from Joe and Igris who were about to begin their own battle.
Igris:
"First Class Hero, huh?"
He strode toward Joe, swaggering.
"Most of you didn't survive five minutes with me. You? You look calm."
He tilted his head.
"Mind telling me your power?"
Joe's voice was flat.
Joe:
"Shut up and get your ass whooped."
Swosh!
They lunged at each other—fists coiled, tension high.
Igris struck first, his fist sharply flared with fire.
But Joe evaded at the last second.
The fight exploded—fists flying, a wild ballet of martial arts.
Igris attacked relentlessly, a blazing storm of punches. Joe bobbed and weaved, parried and pivoted, looking for a window.
But the heat rose. The pace quickened.
Igris pressed harder.
Joe stumbled back, then back again.
Igris:
"That's it?! That's all you've got?!"
BANG!
A punch crashed into Joe's chest igniting a burst of flame on impact. He flew back but landed on one knee.
Igris:
"Tch. I've taken out stronger heroes than you. You're pathetic."
Joe didn't respond. He stood, calm and steady.
He charged straight ahead again.
The same thing happened again.
And again.
And again.
Seven hits later, Joe dropped to one knee, shaking. His body smoking and his coat burned.
Igris confidently approached him.
Igris:
"You're First Class, alright. No low-level punk could take seven of my punches. But you're done now."
He cracked his knuckles and raised his fist.
"Pathetic."
He launched the final blow.
Just before impact—
Joe caught his fist.
Poof.
A hiss of steam and smoke.
Igris:
"Huh?!"
His fist trembled in Joe's grip.
Joe:
"Ignite Knuckle. That's your power. Your fists ignite on impact. The burst only triggers when you punch or clash."
Igris backed immediately away.
(Igris's thoughts):
"Does he know about my cooldown!?
Joe stood tall to his feet.
Joe:
"Every hit you land reduces in power. That's why I kept charging, leaving you no time for your cool down to reset. —burning through your cooldown window."
Igris snarled.
Igris:
"You cocky bastard! It doesn't matter. My cooldown's done. This time, I won't hold back!"
Joe:
"Too late."
Igris:
"Huh?!"
He glanced down.
A symbol had appeared on his chest—an intricate marking.
His eyes darted up to Joe, who raised a hand bearing the same mark.
Joe slowly unzipped his coat, revealing his lips—surrounded by more markings.
Joe:
"You already lost."
He closed his mouth.
The marks on his lips, palm and on Igris's shirt began to glow and pulse.
Igris:
"No... NO!"
He clawed at his shirt, trying to rip it off, but it was too late.
Joe (whispering):
"Boom."
BOOM!
The explosion swallowed Igris in golden flame. A towering inferno spiraled skyward, brighter and more devastating than anything Igris had unleashed before.
---
Backlash and Iron Maw turned as the explosion echoed across the battlefield.
Backlash:
"Woo,"
he whistled, then turned back to the beast.
"Looks like my protégés are almost done."
He spread his arms. His aura ignited—green, crackling, blinding.
A wild grin stretched across his face.
Backlash: "Guess it's time I finished this too."
His voice turned ice cold.
His eyes glowed.
And he surged forward—carrying the full wrath of Iron Maw's might… right back at him.
BOOM!
The ground screamed.
A colossal shockwave—louder than anything before—ripped through the air. The earth shook beneath it, a deep, violent tremor that cracked the atmosphere itself.
Iron Maw crashed onto his back, carving a massive trench into the field. His once-impenetrable chest armor was now laced with fractures, spiderwebbing across its surface.
Backlash had struck dead-on, unleashing the full might of every blow he'd absorbed straight into the monster's core.
The field was gone—reduced to broken earth and debris.
Backlash stood atop a lone light pole at the field's edge, scratching his chin, eyebrows furrowed in thought.
Backlash:
"Hmm… just figured something out, big guy."
He pointed at Iron Maw.
"You're holding back."
"You're stalling. I can feel it. All your punches? They're strong—but not your strongest. You're hitting me with what you can take in return, trying not to overextend. That's why when I hit back, all I did was crack your armor."
He tilted his head slightly, annoyed.
"So what's your plan? Are we just gonna keep trading punches until one of us gets bored—"
Swoosh!
Before he could finish, Iron Maw's massive hand slammed toward him, the speed blinding.
Zip!
Backlash barely dodged, launching himself to the ground in a blur, landing with a slight stagger.
Iron Maw pressed forward, fists raining down in a savage flurry. This time, his punches were faster—far more brutal than before.
But Backlash didn't move.
Didn't dodge.
Didn't flinch.
He absorbed every single hit.
Backlash (in his mind):
He got faster—too fast. That palm almost crushed me before I even registered it.
For something that size to move like that… damn.
He's not just strong. He's fast. He's smart. He's an Elite Villain.
A grin broke across his face.
Exciting.
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While Backlash and Iron Maw were fighting...
Zephyra and Amelia were locked in a frustrating struggle, unable to even close the distance on the long-ranged fighter, Cyantra.
Amelia:
"Aaaaaaaaaagh!"
She roared, charging straight at Cyantra, fists clenched.
Cyantra deftly sprang out of the way. But Zephyra was already attacking from another direction the instant Cyantra landed.
Zip!
Cyantra leaped aside again, narrowly dodging Zephyra's spinning kick. She fired an arrow at Zephyra the moment she jumped away. Even as Zephyra pursued her, she was forced to dodge.
The cycle repeated itself relentlessly: every time they closed in, Cyantra jumped away and rained down arrows.
Amelia (frustrated):
"Aaaahhhh! You Coward!"
Amelia bellowed at Cyantra, who merely laughed before unleashing another volley of arrows. Amelia twisted and leaped, barely evading.
"Hey, keep her distracted."
Zephyra sneakily tells her.
Amelia nods and charges in, her movements faster, angrier—drawing Cyantra's focus and buying Zephyra the opening she needs.
---
To be continued...
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Chapter 12 Preview:
Zephyra finally lands a surprise blow on Cyantra—tilting the battle in their favor. But just as victory feels within reach, Iron Maw suddenly emerges from nowhere after taking Joe out in a fatal instant. He begins charging toward the girls.
Tomorrow in: Retreat.