The dark, cold embrace of brick walls brought back memories of a similar encounter. Akuma stepped through the narrow entrance, his eyes locked on the cloaked figure walking in front of him. A heavy weight of anticipation settled in his chest as his patience began to wane.

  “I should kick your ass for what you just did.” Akuma said, clicking his tongue. “But I'm curious. Who are you? And what’s your business with me?”

  Heavy silence filled the alley as the Cloaked figure stopped. The distant sounds of the city—car horns, indistinct chatter, and other mundane activity—only emphasized the unnatural stillness between them.

  “I'm waiting...” Akuma said, tension creeping into his voice. “You have about three seconds.”

  The hooded figure's shoulders shook slightly before erupting into laughter. He turned toward Akuma, his face still hidden beneath the jacket hood.

  “Y’know, it’s the funniest thing…” The figure said, his voice eerily familiar. “You'd expect me to be angrier at you for what you did to me. But instead, it's given me clarity. Like my anger has been... focused. Focused towards those who truly deserve it… Perhaps he's the reason for that.”

  Akuma's eyes narrowed at the mention of “he”, but before he could press further, the man pulled back his hood.

  The sight froze Akuma mid-breath. It was Donte. But… transformed. His once black hair was now white as fresh snow, and his right eye had the striking color of blood. All the same, Akuma was certain this boy was Donte.

  “What happened to you?” Akuma questioned, unable to mask his shock.

  Donte savored Akuma's reaction, a smile playing on lips as he cackled like an old witch.

  “You wouldn’t believe it. After our little... disagreement last week, my father was absolutely furious with me. No matter how hard I tried to explain myself, he just wouldn't listen… What kind of father makes his own son bow before him like some servant. And those girls, laughing... I can still hear them even now.”

  He yanked at his hair, pressing his forearms into his cheeks.

  “That feeling of powerlessness… It reminded me of watching my mother wither away in her hospital bed. That helplessness in her eyes as disease consumed her... I hated that feeling. And I know she hated it even more.”

  A bead of sweat traced Akuma's temple.

  “What are you even talking about? You're not making any sense.”

  “Not making sense…? NOT MAKING SENSE?!”

  He pressed his palms against his face, digging his fingers into his skin.

  “You're just like the rest of them, refusing to hear what I have to say! No one listens… No one except the angel.”

  “Angel?” Akuma scoffed, though unease crept through him. “Oh, I get it now. You lost your mind after our fight and now you’re crazy.”

  “He's real…” Donte said, suddenly calm. “That night, while my father humiliated me, he spoke to me. And do you know what he told me?” He continued, his mismatched eyes locked with Akuma's. “That I have the power to defeat God.”

  The air between them seemed to grow heavy, causing Akum to raise his guard.

  “At first, I thought it was pure madness. How could I possibly defeat God? I mean we’re talking about God!” Donte continued. “But then I remembered you. When you called yourself God that day in the alley.”

  Without warning, a brilliant white light materialized inches from Akuma's face. It solidified into the shape of a fist just before slamming into his mouth with enough force to snap his head back. Blood sprayed from his lip, but he maintained his balance.

  “So that's your trick…” Akuma said, wiping blood from his mouth. “You’re projecting pieces of your body through the air.”

  Donte's face broke into a wide grin as dozens of ghostly white arms materialized behind him, floating like celestial guardians.

  “Man, your instincts are sharp…” Donte said with genuine admiration. “You are correct. Apparently, that angel gave me the power to replicate pieces of my body. Something about them being made of starlites or something.”

  Akuma had dismissed his talks of angels as delusion, but faced with power so clearly beyond human capability, doubt crept in. Just who was this angel? And why was he so fixated on him? Before he could ask a single question, the spectral arms behind Donte all oriented toward Akuma, vibrating violently. Then they fired off like bullets.

  Akuma dove right, narrowly avoiding the barrage. The arms crashed into the concrete below him, leaving deep impressions on the stone. But as he landed, Donte appeared directly before him, impossibly fast.

  “Predictable.” Donte said, his voice laced with disappointment. “I fired from far knowing you'd dodge.”

  Donte's fist connected with Akuma's face—or rather, it would have, if Akuma's body hadn't seemed to shimmer and dissolve like mist. Donte's momentum carried him forward into the empty air.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Funny…” Akuma's voice came from Donte’s right. “I pretended that dodge because I knew you'd close the distance... Predictable.”

  Akuma's shin connected with Donte's face with devastating force, sending him sprawling back across the alley. Donte's body skidded several feet before stopping.

  Akuma spat out an annoying clump of blood, then wiped the residue with the back of his hand.

  “Lucky for me, you hit like a little child throwing a tantrum.”

  Donte rose slowly, dramatically dusting off his clothes. His calm demeanor, and lack of any real injury almost made Akuma doubt whether or not his strike had actually struck him.

  “Fair enough…” Donte said, holding up five fingers. “Five moves. In five moves… I will end your life.”

  A vein pulsed on Akuma's temple. In a blur of motion, he closed the distance between them, launching a kick that rippled the very air around them. Yet Donte countered with a kick of his own, their forces canceling in a shockwave that rattled the alley's windows.

  “That's one.” Donte taunted, eyes alight with anticipation.

  Akuma leapt backward, creating space. His hands moved in a precise circle, his fingertips trailing spectral light that hung in the air like droplets of snow.

  “Aegis Kata…” He intoned, the words sending a rush through Donte’s hairs. “First Planet Series: Mercury Drill!”

  Before Donte could process what was happening, Akuma's foot crashed into his side with impossible speed. The impact launched him into the brick wall with such force that it partially collapsed, burying him under debris.

  (What just happened? …Was I hit? When? How? …How is he suddenly so much faster?! Was he just toying with me last time?)

  A cockroach scurried from beneath a nearby garbage can, startled by the commotion. Donte’s eyes were drawn to it. Specifically, the way it moved abnormally fast, almost a blur.

  (Wait… It's not his speed that increased, it's my perception slowing down. That hand motion he did earlier must’ve somehow my sense of time.)

  Akuma watched impassively as Donte emerged from the rubble, brushing brick dust from his shoulders.

  “You know…” Donte said, rolling his neck until it cracked. “Back when we first fought, I couldn't read you at all. But now, after receiving this power from the angel… I can see everything you're feeling. All those emotions screaming inside you.”

  Akuma's expression remained impassive.

  “Weren't you supposed to kill me? Or are you stalling because you know you can't?”

  “I know, I know. I’ll get to that… Just satisfying my curiosity first.” Donte said, circling Akuma slowly. “Tell me. Why are you pretending to be something you clearly aren’t?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This protector act. This hero complex you have. That righteous look in your eyes, like you're facing down some monster to save the innocent. It's pathetic. You're not a hero, you're just a confused, angry kid so desperate for a connection that you'll save anyone if it means they might become your friend.”

  The words struck deeper than any physical blow. A storm of conflicting emotions played across Akuma's face.

  “What would you know about me? I have a friend… His name is Jacob!”

  For a moment Donte paused, his legs glued as realization struck him.

  “Jacob…? Aw of course. Jacob. I knew he looked familiar that day. You said his name then too, didn't you? Damn, how did I miss that?”

  “What are you talking about now?”

  “Don't play dumb…” Donte sneered. “Surely he's told you about us by now. Our history.”

  Silence stretched between them as Akuma contemplated interjecting. He had half a mind to taunt him about how he was bullied.

  “He was my friend once…” Donte continued, voice turning bitter. “Before he betrayed me like everyone else.”

  “Betrayed you?” Akuma finally interjected. “He would never do anything like that.”

  “Oh trust me, he did. He knew those kids would steal my mother’s pendant, but he just stood there. He didn’t try to stop them. He didn't even help me look for it. Just watched, like some helpless bystander.”

  “You can't seriously blame him for–”

  “SHUT UP!” Donte roared, veins bulging at his temple. “You're just like the rest! That pendant was all I had left of her! The only thing I had to remember her by!”

  Tears streamed down Donte's face, but his voice remained steady, controlled rage simmering beneath each word.

  “That day when you called yourself God, I thought you were insane…” He continued. “But after meeting that angel, I understand something now… When those kids held me down and threw my pendant into the river, I wanted them to suffer. I wanted them to feel powerless as their bodies withered away. The same fate God inflicted on my mother… But I couldn't do it. No matter how hard I wished, I couldn’t do it. Only God has that power. So I'll kill him. I'll kill him. I'LL KILL HIM!”

  Three glowing white fists materialized around Akuma. One in front, one on his left and another to his right. In a fluid motion, he dropped low, his back nearly touching the floor as his lower leg supported his entire body wight. But without warning, a fourth fist appeared above him, slamming down into his chest with crushing force. The concrete beneath him cracked as he was driven into the ground.

  “This makes three.” Donte said, hovering above Akuma with his foot raised.

  His heel came down like a piston, drilling into Akuma's stomach. Blood erupted from Akuma's mouth, splattering across the broken concrete.

  Donte raised his heel once again, preparing for another strike. Akuma rolled desperately, narrowly avoiding it. As he staggered to his feet, he began tracing another circular pattern in the air.

  Seeing this, Donte manifested a glowing heel that crashed into Akuma's face, interrupting the sketch.

  “Four!” Donte shouted, rushing Akuma's falling form.

  He launched a devastating punch toward Akuma's inverted face, a blow that should have ended everything… Except, his fist slipped through him, as if he were some sort of mirage.

  “Third planet Series...”

  Donte spun toward the voice, finding Akuma at his flank, a small five-pointed star glowing before his outstretched hand, his middle finger concentrated for a flick.

  “Earth Crust!” Akuma shouted, flicking his finger through the star.

  The concentration of force zipped like lightning, the air crackling around it as it connected with Donte's exposed side. The impact sent a shockwave through the alley that dislodged bricks and shattered any remaining windows. Donte's body hurtled sideways, crashing into a metal garbage bin with enough force to fold it around him.

  Steam rose from Akuma's trembling finger, but adrenaline masked the pain.

  “Your logic is fundamentally flawed...” Akuma said, breathing heavily. “Even if God gave your mother that illness, vengeance won't bring her back. Someone once told me that both death and life should be celebrated, and that true heroes save them both equally.”

  Donte didn't answer. He remained slumped against the crushed garbage bin, his body filthy and broken. Yet beneath the grime and blood, a smile played across his lips. A smile not of madness, but of pure satisfaction.

  Time seemed to stop as Akuma sensed movement behind him. He began to turn but he was too late. Inches from his head floated a glowing, white hand holding a very real pistol.

  “And that makes five.”

  POW!

  The gunshot echoed through the alley, bouncing off the brick walls like thunder trapped in a box.

  “Fucking idiot…” Donte taunted Akuma’s collapsed, bleeding body. “I’ll have to thank my piece of shit father later. Oh, and I can’t forget that angel. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again? …Ah whatever. If I ever meet him again… I’ll have to ask him where God is.”

  On this day, the self-proclaimed God, Akuma Tiryns, has died. Forgotten like trash and abandoned by fate. And yet, the world… marches on.