(Nathan)

  Nathan resumed on Recall on the errant hammer, sileng its humming flight with the grip of his hand.

  Dorian’s gaze tracked the crystal projectile. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to do, but I don’t think it’s very effective. You should try hitting me.”

  At unranked, Nathan stood no ce against his on-ranked brother. Dorian had goaded him into the fight and now he was adventurespning how it should be doypical of his brother. Nathan knew Dorian was toying with him; he probably pulled the sucker punch, too. His pn to exhaust Dorian wasn’t w because the unstoppable elf wasn’t spending any mana. He needed Dorian to use more abilities.

  ‘This is going to suck,’ Nathan thought. He cast Metabolize on himself, muscles tensing as he skidded to a halt, then uhe hammer again (13). Dorian closed, ung a quick salvo of his own—with his fists.

  The first punded on Nathan’s chest with a snap. The sed quickly followed up across his jaw with a crack. He braced for a third pop that never came, tasting the warm copper pooling in his mouth. He turo spit, spttering the green glob on the ground.

  A smile revealed his green-tieeth. Both attacks had exhausted Dorian’s mana, while his was now topped off, the excess returning to the os. Those haymakers must’ve been costly abilities for Dorian to be running low.

  His pn might just work. He’d exhausted Dorian’s options for now, and it’d only cost him most of his life. Lifeforce showed him at 24% health. Respiteful Regeion switched to health mode.

  Sweaty and out of breath, Dorian wiped his brow with his forearm. “Pretty good,” he said betweehs. “For a mender.” But that didn’t mean he was out of the fight. He kept throwing regur punches, elbows, and knees. Although not true abilities, his Super Strength passive still empowered them, and they would’ve whittled Nathan down had Fme Shell not grown strong enough to minimize the damage.

  Each strike sparked a different color from the fmes. Dorian’s health was still at 100%. He didn’t seem to take any of the retribution damage from the shell.

  Doubt crept into Nathan’s mind. ‘What if he’s too tough for me to hurt?’ He soaked another half dozen strikes before a pink spark lit up from Dorian’s st punch. The shell had pletely ed the damage, giving him a flicker of hope.

  Dorian’s health finally dipped to 96%, aook a step back, shaking out his hand. “That’s starting to sting.”

  Nathan’s health was just above critical, sitting at 15%. His new abilities were the only things keeping him on his feet. The darkness creeping at the edges of his vision told him he was only a handful of pertage points from bg out.

  “You don’t look so good, brother.” Dorian leaned over, pointing to Nathan’s belt. “Take the potion.”

  Instead of doing the sensible thing, Nathan shook his head and spat out more blood, wiping his mouth on his scaled-sleeve. He had him exactly where he wanted him. They’d e this far. And when the fight was about to turn around, Dorian wanted him to quit? Not a ce.

  Dorian tio circle around Nathan slowly, with his guard up. “An important skill in adventuring is to know when to quit.”

  Natha his gaze. “You ever quit?”

  Dorian smirked and said, “No.” Theepped bad split into three.

  Nathan squeezed his fists tighter, realizing Dorian was just stalling. His pn was to wait for Fme Shell to expire. He took a seething breath, exhaling forcefully. He wao nd his attaore than ever and wipe that stupid grin off his brother’s smug face.

  Nathan spun up atad tossed the hammer at him, missing (14). He tried the recall attack again, but it missed as well (15). Betweeriplet buff and his aura, Dorian was impossible to hit, but that didn’t stop him fr.

  A mier, Fme Shell expired; the prismatic fmes waned as the colle ter dispyed (33). He’d used up about half his mana again, and his health was back to 54%. Metabolize was amazing, doubling the health regeion of his aura. But as soon as his health outpaced his mana, it flipped baana regeion, which had no synergy with Metabolize.

  The ter had crept into the thirties without him realizing. ‘Thirty-three is very high,’ he thought. ‘I should do it now.’ He never enjoyed fighting, actively avoiding it whenever he could, which meant he never got around to thhly testing his attacks, or how he might exploit them.

  O from his hammer had no effe Dorian, but thirty-three hits bined into one should do some damage. Normally, he’d be ed it might do too much damage, but he was just giving Dorialy what he asked for.

  Nathan had held off on using and, in case his brother went for the bde again. However, it could also force the unstoppable elf to stand still long enough to nd the shot. He’d find the right time to use it after the doubles went away.

  Dorian’s triplets merged bato one shortly after Fme Shell went down, meaning it also had a one-minute duration, which was a relief. Xel’oria could barely tain a single Doria alohree.

  This was the moment Nathan had been waiting for—his ce to end the fight. But Energy Leech had just dropped off, aed to py it safe, refreshing it, which cost him his opportunity to use and.

  Suddenly, a wind swept in from Dorian’s dire, followed by a wall of ing sand. Lifeforce didn’t work on uable enemies, and Dorian’s health dropped off the list as the sandstorm obscured him.

  Cursing himself for making another costly mistake, he shielded his eyes from the sand. That did little to help because this wasn’t a muorm—it was one of Dorian’s abilities. He was blind and taking stant abrasive damage from the raging storm around him. Coarse sand got everywhere, grinding, scratg, scraping, and whipping him from every side.

  ‘Which way?’ he wondered. Logic dictated this ability had a limited area of effed going straight in any dire would lead him to safety, but he found it difficult to think when every instinct he had was screaming for him to hunker down. Uo see, barely able to breathe, and in stant pain, he forced himself to take a step forward.

  A sudden blow to his sor plexus, right below his diaphragm, stole what air remained. Before, it’d been difficult to breathe, trying not to choke on the sand and dust infiltrating his mouth. Now it was impossible. His diaphragm spasmed, uo inhale—he panicked. Frozen in pce, his mind abahe pn, obsessing over his breath.

  At the first sign of restored fun, he inhaled sharply, sug air, sand, and debris into his lungs. Racked with coughing, he dropped to a knee. Blind, helpless, his health slowly deteriorating, and worst of all, uo call out for mercy. Would Dorian even notice if he took the potion to surrender?

  More fshes of pain surprised him across his cheeks and face. Dorian didn’t hold back, striking again and again.

  Overwhelmed, fused, and afraid, Nathan was desperate, digging deep, grasping at anything. At the very bottom, he found a writhing mass, powerful enough to give him back trol. Hatred surged, tempting him with a way out—if he’d just give i e him.

  “No,” Nathan gagged, using revulsion as a focus point instead. He flicked his wrist, spinning up his hammer and u (34). Dorian’s assault paused long enough for the hammer to return. A cheap kidney shot followed ohe hammer was ba his hand.

  Nathan pushed himself back to his feet, tossing the hammer wildly again (35). It bought him preoments as his brother waited for it to return before striking him again.

  Dorian must have exhausted himself with the sandstorm, because these were regur urikes. They still hurt and did a great job at l his health, but they weren’t the life-ending haymakers he’d been using before.

  ‘He’s in ma,’ Nathan realized. Lifeforce showed his owh down to 13%. He reached for the healing potion on his belt as another optioed itself.

  Fme Shell came off cooldown, and he used it immediately. The stant attacks of the sandstorm quickly ramped up the shell to full effeegating the damage. His health ticked up to 14%, and the shell blocked Dorian’s strike pletely.

  He still couldn’t see or stop coughing, but the shell would keep him in the fight. If Doria attag, he’d only hurt himself. But the unstoppable elf had shown respect for his ability previously. It was too much to hope he’d knock himself out on it.

  Fme Shell would outst the sandstorm by a minute, and Nathan hoped that would be long enough for the blind to wear off. He had a blind se gummy in one of his pouches, but it was mixed in with the others.

  It was annoying to admit this fight was already proving a valuable lesson. He’d be sure to keep the gummies separate iure, so he’d know which to use even if he couldn’t see.

  Slowly, he made his way to the edge of the storm. He picked a dire, alternatiween taking a step and firing off another ranged hammer attack (36). The attacks gave his mind something to focus on, keeping him from giving in to panic. His coughing fits improved at a gcial pace as the mending repaired his lungs, though it couldn’t remove the sand or debris.

  It took een paces until he couldn’t feel the surrounding storm, and then he uhe hammer one more time (45).

  Regrettably, his blindness persisted for a time, which he expected. He stopped holding bad gave into his urge to choke and vomit, leaving a mess on the ground at his feet. He’d need an appoi with Windlock to fully clear his lungs and prevent further plications.

  Dorian cpped. “Impressive abilities. ’t believe you’re still on your feet,” he said, lurking from within the sandstorm.

  Too busy coughing to clear his lungs, Nathan was forced to tinue listening as Dorian droned on.

  “For only having two-thirds of your powerset, you’ve done well.”

  Nathan fired off atack toward his voice (46).

  Dorian gave a chuckle as the hammer failed to find its target again. “I’m not used to fighting solo. You’re very hard to catch. Usually, P’reslen keeps everything locked down. And that ability”—he whistled. “The one jag up my mana cost? It’s brutal. A real shame you’re only a mender and have nothing that hurt me.”

  ‘Infernal Mother, stop monologuing,’ Nathan thought, his frustration building at his inability to speak—Dorian was really pissing him off.

  It took half a minute for his sight to return. Tears still obscured his vision, a side effect of coughing up his lungs to breathe, but at least his brother had shut up. He could see well enough; he just o know where the sandstorm was. Most on-ranked abilities stayed in pce activated, though some occasionally followed a target; this one remained where Dorian had used it.

  He walked over and stuck his fihrough the sandy veil, refreshing the duration of his Fme Shell. He figured the blindness would return. It did, but that was okay—he already knew which dire to attack. Dorian was in there somewhere, and maybe he’d get lucky with a stray shot.

  His mistake of choosing Energy Leech over and repyed in his mind over and over. He set; that wasn’t even the first poor decision he’d made this week. The shell offered him a reprieve from Dorian’s onsught, but it also gave him time to reflect—to seethe.

  His thoughts pushed him from frustrated to furious. He should’ve ehe fight with and, log his oppo down to nd the shot. Now he had to deal with the sequences of his failures.

  “sequences,” he scoffed, spitting the offending word from his mouth.

  A simple cept whose purpose was to keep everything in check, to keep everything fair. It was the one rule preventing everyone from doing whatever the Pits they wanted. But of course, that never applied to Dorian; he was immune. And that was unfair. No—unjust. And it really pissed him off.

  Dorian always showed up whe suited him, doing whatever he pleased, and thehe mess for someone else to up. That someone was usually Nathan. His ck of sequences was maddening.

  “You’ve done well… for a mender,” Dorian said. “Unranked with little bat experience… You could never win. Drink the potion before you get hurt.”

  Forced to listen to Dorian’s gloating, Nathahe writhing mass surge again. Dorian had just admitted that he khis was a one-way fight from the beginning.

  ‘Then what was the point?!’ Nathan’s mind demahis was all for his brother’s eai. His pain, his suffering, was just a cure for boredom? Not once did it ever occur to Dorian that he could beat him. But Dorian was wrong. Nathan had a pn, and he should’ve won, but oupid, split-sed decision had cost him Dorian’s euppance.

  Frustration and anger were regur emotions Nathan struggled with, one always leading to the other, fusing together into something more—hatred. Until now, he’d always directed it inwards.

  Hatred reached out, its power once again. He really wao hit something. He o hit something. And this time, he didn’t say no.