Senior Agent Hale wasn’t human anymore.

  Slam Buster — the last move she’d used — gave Apex the superhuman strength to brace against his chokehold. His demonic wings flapped behind him, eyes blazing with fury as the arena’s chaos blurred beneath them. She kicked his chin, flipping him around by her foot before slamming him through another wall.

  They crashed into a wine barrel room, tearing through a shelf. But, she couldn’t give him time to rest. Apex scrambled atop Agent Hale, calling on Slam Buster once again and wrapping her hands around his throat.

  He swatted at her with massive claws, but a grin spread across her face as she activated Golden Sable’s Forged Skin. Her skin and clothes gained the consistency of gold, transforming her entire body into the shiny metal, making her invincible, albeit immobile.

  She didn’t need movement to choke the life from his eyes. He scratched and struggled against her metal hands, gritting his fangs, desperately gasping for air between bellowing roars.

  This was the part she enjoyed — the moment before death, when the brain abandoned any sense of restraint to preserve itself. His roars became higher-pitched screams, then only gurgles and cries for air. He grabbed a barrel of wine and smashed it over her, to no effect.

  He was powerless.

  Hale started to shrink in her grasp. She deactivated her Forged Skin and throttled his neck, slamming him harder against the ground. As the red glow faded from his skin, and he returned back to his normal size, muscles deflating. Instead of a seven foot tall demon, she choked a man too old for an operation this grand.

  Veins in his eyes bulged red. He threw a punch with an ounce of fading strength behind it, before his eyes rolled back into his head. Panting, Apex rose and summoned a knife of transparent red energy, slashing his throat. Senior Agent Hale’s blood ran from his neck like a waterfall into the pool of wine.

  Apex laughed quietly, catching the distant sounds of raging battle. Maya Wolfe was a thorn of steel in her side for causing this mess, but this was her Senior Agent? This was the man responsible for instilling all that fire into her?

  She tilted his chin with the tip of her foot. Some mentor.

  To her left, boots thudded into the wine barrel room, the sound reverberating through the cramped space like a drumbeat. A towering warrior in cobalt and starlight-black hoplite armor stepped in, his strong nose and sharp glare fixated on her. Stars shimmered across his armor under the flickering fluorescent lights.

  Atlas.

  Apex stepped over Senior Agent Hale’s body, and the hole in the wall behind her collapsed. “I knew this trash wasn’t all the SRB had for me. How in the world did they get the twenty-fifth ranked Fighter in the entire world? Don’t tell me you joined for something as petty as revenge.”

  Atlas shook his head. “There’s nothing I can do about the lives of the Fifties you ended thus far,” he said, stepping into the aisle, his voice deep and humble.

  “So? Is this the part where you try to get me to peacefully stand down, too? I mean,” she shrugged. “It’s only you and me. No one will see you fail to do so.”

  “Indeed. I didn’t join because I believed that would work.” Atlas clenched his fist. “I joined to kill you for the sake of the world itself.”

  Apex let her grin fade away. The haughty act wouldn’t be effective here. They chose well; Atlas was the greatest counter to her abilities.

  While she stole techniques, he copied them.

  She cursed herself for not committing the exact requirements of his ability to memory. Snatch wouldn’t be useful here. She could only use it during a Fight. Challenging him formally would reveal her location and give others time to surround her.

  Concrete dust fell from the ceiling against the force of a distant explosion. A wooden wine barrel rolled to the ground. Down the aisle, Atlas watched her with eyes of iron, taking another measured step forward.

  She met his advance. Power copiers wouldn’t make the first move.

  Adrenaline hammered through her veins, but her shoulder and back hummed with dull pain. After the two gunshot wounds from Avanti and Maya, they patched her up as best they could. The spinal injury, specifically, would flare if she moved her right arm too fast. Even worse, the SRB likely briefed Atlas on all of her known special moves. He knew her entire moveset, yet she knew nothing about his and had two weak spots.

  Another step forward.

  She was at a disadvantage. Alone, with no emotional strings to sway her favor.

  Never let odds discourage you, students. Rise above the challenge. Prove your strength.

  The spinal injury made her just like him — so what? She forced the SRB to bring their best Fighters and Agents to capture her. She caused this chaos by bringing her own forces.

  And she would defeat an opponent higher-ranked than anyone Jonathan ever faced. She wouldn’t lose to a copycat.

  She was the strongest.

  The color drained from her surroundings — Apex stopped time and rushed forward, faster than light itself. But, Atlas’s body regained color with a flash, and he dashed right at her.

  He copied Gigabyte’s stopped time.

  The muscles in Apex’s face tightened into an involuntary grin. She aimed a Lightning Thrust at his head, but Atlas weaved and fired a punch into her spine, right into her bullet wound.

  Numbness exploded through her entire body. Atlas struck while the iron was on fire, and a combination of hooks knocked her into a shelf of wine barrels. Blue lightning crackled around his hands. He raised a copied Lightning Thrust, but Apex’s right leg burst with flames, launching her to the ceiling in a fiery kick, forcing him to retreat.

  …and press the offensive a breath later. Sweat rolled down her forehead as Apex barely blocked and parried his strikes. A cobalt aura faded around his body — the same blue her own eyes shimmered when she used Overdrive.

  Atlas was just like her. Every copied move briefly gave him the same stats as the original owner.

  She weaved underneath a cross and called on The Beast’s Slam Buster. Strength welled in her arms as she grabbed Atlas by the neck. As she lifted him a foot off of the ground, though, his dark skin and shining armor turned into gold.

  He copied Gold Sable’s Forged Skin. Apex scoffed, tossing the golden statue through a shelf of wine barrels. Wood splintered and came crashing down, splashing purple wine all over her pants. Atlas returned to normal as he rose, but a golden aura floated on his skin.

  Apex threw a Sunshot, aiming the yellow projectile at his face. It was only to confirm her bias; Gold Sable was a Tank with High Health, so a projectile like this would be like the bite of a fly.

  Atlas tanked it face first and charged at her. His golden aura shifted to a blood red. She swatted his hand and ducked underneath his Slam Buster, circling past him, spinning his helmet around on his head.

  Her eyes barely caught the spark of light as a blade shimmered into Atlas’s hand — her knife. He stabbed her thigh like the teeth of a snake, but she lunged backwards through the hole in the shelf, ripping it from her skin.

  Blood mixed with wine. Apex summoned a knife of her own. Atlas turned, helmet still reversed and covering his eyes. Her shoes splashed in the wine as she lunged, but he again dodged her left-handed thrust, grabbing her neck. He lifted her into the air like he lived and breathed strength, stepping through the hole in the shelf.

  She feigned struggle. As soon as he moved to slam her, Gigabyte’s Overdrive froze time mid-fall. The wine shelf on her left was short — she threw three arrows of lavender energy, each set to curve back towards her opponent, and Forged her skin into gold as time resumed.

  Atlas slammed her hard enough to crack the concrete. But, the three lavender arrows struck the side of his head, shattering like glass. It wouldn’t do much damage — he was still bathed in the durability-enhancing Grappler aura — but he flinched long enough for her to pry his hands free.

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  She rolled to her feet and backpedaled down the aisle, firing Sunshots, catching her breath. Atlas threw his helmet off and raised his guard. The projectiles struck his transparent blue shield with hollow thunks, like mallets against a dying tree trunk.

  Shards of summoned metal swirled around her left palm as Apex unleashed Steelstorm, spraying steel down the narrow aisle. Wine drained from fresh holes in barrels, pooling at Atlas’s feet. He blocked what he could with his bracers, though most still found their mark in his skin.

  As he blocked, Apex stopped time and rushed in, a burning yellow Sunshot swelling in her left hand.

  Atlas stopped time and met her advance, dashing through the frozen metal shards. In her right hand, Apex summoned and threw a knife, but Atlas easily caught it mid-air, his cobalt aura equally enhancing his speed.

  Apex thrust the Sunshot in her left hand. He took the bait, dodging and drawing back for his own attack. The blast never came. She dispelled the Sunshot, summoned a knife in its place, and stabbed his arm, yanking him even closer.

  “Did you really think I could only fight with my left hand?” Apex cackled, calling on Lightning Thrust.

  He didn’t have a helmet on anymore. Right here, in stopped time, the speed of Lighting Thrust would stack with Gigabyte’s speed. Her attack would be too fast for him to dodge.

  For the first time, Atlas’s humble eyes widened with fear.

  She was the strongest.

  But, using a Rushdown’s move lowered her Health Stat, dropping her pain tolerance. It was why, as her right hand bolted towards Atlas’s throat, the wound in her spine screamed bloody horror through her nerves, like a spider of pain from shoulders to hips.

  Her body locked up an inch from his throat.

  Time resumed. Atlas copied her last knife summon and plunged it into her shoulder wound. Her humanity betrayed her; Apex let out a shrill howl of pain. She released the knife in his arm, and the Lighting Thrust faded from her right hand, leaving her wide open

  Jaw, temple, solar plexus, nose — his fists smashed against her face, flashing stars through her vision. She collapsed against the short wine shelf. Atlas stood over her, victorious and bloody, a Lighting Thrust crackling in his hand. Her fiery kick from moments ago had lit a barrel ablaze, and smoke thickened the air.

  The weakness of her flesh paled against the strength of her mind.

  She wouldn’t die without using all of her arsenal.

  Atlas went for the finishing thrust, but a shield of white floated over her skin. Apex called on the power of Bubble Barrier. It had been so long, she didn’t even remember the original user.

  She did remember that it could block any singular hit, no matter how strong, once every twenty four hours.

  Atlas’s Lightning Thrust harmlessly bounced off of her.

  “Shoryaken!”

  Apex launched into a DP-type special she’d stolen long ago, knocking Atlas through two wine barrel shelves. He brought himself to his feet, but between the flickering fluorescent lights and the fire, concern etched into his expression as he held his bleeding arm.

  Apex clutched her shoulder, panting. The smoke-thickened air stung against the gash. In this position, she’d lose. Atlas knew her weak spots and her habit of attacking with her left hand first. Old habits died hard.

  But, she understood his copy technique. He had to see a move before he could use it, and he could only use it as many times as she did. He must’ve watched her finish off Senior Agent Hale; that explained his initial uses.

  He knew her common moves, but Snatch had stolen a treasure trove of techniques over the years. Apex smiled. If she kept using new techniques, she had one free use before he could adapt.

  Leaving this burning wine room was the first step to victory.

  Apex raised her palm, and a ball of white energy gathered in the air as she charged another Supernova.

  “No!”

  Atlas sprinted closer. Baiting his advance, Apex dropped the fake Supernova and reached deep into her mental toy bucket, firing three green spores of energy. He raised his forearms, but each stuck to his bracers and exploded, shattering them, stunning him long enough for her to grab his throat.

  Apex raised him off the ground. “You brought a swiss army knife to a knife fight, but mine has a lot more points.”

  She charged at the wall like a rhino and slammed him through, tossing him down a hallway. As he stumbled to his feet, she called on Rosen’s Vortex Grasp, pulling him closer by the power of gravity.

  The air around her hands hardened, sharpening into a glove with two foot-long claws. Atlas raised his naked forearms. Apex slashed across his forearms and face, and blood hit the concrete.

  Demonic crimson energy swelled around his body, shaping familiar fearsome wings and a seven-foot-tall body. He copied Senior Agent Hale and tackled her, flying down the hallway. Apex braced her glass claw against one hand, pushing against the other with both legs.

  An SRB Agent and a Fighter of her own threw hands at the end of the hallway. Apex and Atlas crashed into the middle of their fight. Winded, Apex gasped for air as she reversed Rosen’s gravity-control, knocking Atlas off of his feet with a Vortex Blast. Like a tree of muscle, he fell onto the innocent SRB Agent.

  Her lackey took the chance to plant his machete in his pinned opponent’s head. As Atlas’s copied body faded, her lackey swung for his neck, but Atlas easily dodged and snapped his neck, snatching his machete.

  With two fresh bodies at their feet, Atlas copied Vortex Blast and fired the machete at her. Apex jumped aside and sprang off the wall, landing with a kick. He tried copying her green sticky bombs, but Apex called on a better special move.

  Carole, the ex-Fiftieth fighter in the world, was an easy kill after the mess in Paris. His technique was just a simple rush of punches and kicks, but it gave her strength — it gave her flight. Atlas’s chest armor cracked against her thundering strikes as she knocked him further down the hall, towards the central chaos.

  But, as soon as he touched the ground, Atlas flew right back at her. He copied Carole’s flying rush, matching her quick strikes and enhanced strength. She parried and redirected his blows, but the mouth of the hallway brought them to the center of the Thunderdome complex.

  SRB Agents, her lackeys, and randoms looking for a fight brawled all throughout the arena — and her and Atlas’s fight smashed through it all. They soared and dodged around each other’s attacks, Atlas’s bellowing roar echoing against her insane cackle.

  How could she not enjoy this?

  How could she not enjoy the chaos, all brought about by her own hand? Maya Wolfe was the spark, but she was the tinder that started the fire and the alcohol intensifying the blaze. Here, fighting for her life with the powers of a god, at the edge of death itself, her blood was like raw energy.

  As they flew over an energy beam, Atlas copied it immediately and blasted her. Carole’s enhanced durability protected her as she crashed through a wall, landing in the concession room. Synapse was on her left, his sniper rifle primed for a shot. She recognized the boy on her right, just by his sheer height, his black and yellow fighting uniform, and the golden dodgeball in his hands.

  Rex — one of Mr. Stone’s new brats.

  Ants.

  Atlas jumped through the hole in the wall, wielding a copied axe of orange light. Apex dug into her mental toy bin of techniques and spread her hands, splaying her fingers as a wave of red energy filled the space between them. Rafiq jumped across before a storm of red lasers fired with a thousand ear-piercing shrieks a second.

  Atlas tried to cut through, but it all launched him backwards. Apex cackled and placed her palms against the ground, calling on an old explosive projectile technique. The technique came with invulnerability against its own explosions, allowing her to blast herself into the sky.

  She met Atlas mid-air. As they struggled against each other, the world flipped head over heels, between the open night sky of the crater and the chaos below. After Apex kicked Atlas in the chest, lightning gathered around Apex’s foot, and Chargestomp sent them plummeting towards the ground.

  She couldn’t Forge her skin to gold to prevent his escape; he could do the same and protect himself. Atlas threw himself out of the way a second before her foot hit the ground with a burst of electricity, and he landed hard beside her.

  He copied her storm of lasers, but Apex called on a DP with frame-one invincibility, passing through the first burst and uppercutting him into a wall across the chaotic arena. Apex used Carole’s Flight Rush to close the distance, but Atlas had landed directly on Sir Guardian’s crimson shield.

  Daniel Chase stood on her left, only two feet away, his eyes like a deer in headlights.

  The only other person to counter her stopped time.

  Apex grabbed a projectile-type special move, then two, then three, losing count until an unstable ball of energy roared in her hands. Before she could fire, Atlas bashed the side of her head with Sir Guardian’s shield. Her brain rang like a gong, and lights flashed in her vision as the world darkened. Her balance went out of whack — she fired over Daniel’s head

  Atlas copied Carole’s Flight Rush and knocked her into the air once again. Her senses returned by the time she landed in the center of the arena. Atlas jumped after her. Instinct screamed for her to protect herself and Forge her skin, but she couldn’t give Atlas that ability again. She rolled aside at the last moment as he tried to crush her skull with Sir Guardian’s shield.

  Blue lightning coiled around her legs, lashing out as she kicked low. Voltlash paralyzed Atlas, long enough for her to grab him with Slam Buster and throw him on the ground.

  Now she was on top — she was always on top. The chaotic battle faded into background noise. Blood leaked from Atlas’s smashed nose. His face was purple with bruises, and his right eye swelled shut, a shell of the former proud warrior.

  But he was still breathing.

  Apex Forged only the skin of her fists and pounded on Atlas’s face like a drum, throwing all sense of feigning sanity to the wind. He’d been the first person in years to bring her this close to death and brighten her day. He deserved more than a quick death. He deserved to feel every blow, to feel his life force sapping away.

  His jaw cracked under the weight of her fists, but a familiar mental presence barged into her mind. Her gaze shot up. Mindgame shoved past a Fight, locking eyes, his hand outstretched. To her right, Avanti Mirage approached, too, her eyes alight with magic.

  The world went dark.