Fionn’s feet glide against the ground as he races towards the scene. “Not again!” he thought to himself, pressing forward despite already knowing it’s too late. “If it’s the bastardly ‘hero’, I’m going to split his skull in two!”

  His speed shifts into a glowing white blur, after images dancing around trees like ghosts. He leaps up, snatches a tree branch by the end, and swings forward to gain more distance. “Damn it,” he growls, gritting his teeth, “this is the second time this happened to me!” His face drained with color the closer he approached

  In the distance, he sees a huge part of the forest was closed off by the rangers. His feet slid against the dirt as he began decreasing his speed to not ram into one of them. A ranger nearby noticed him, mistaking Fionn for another citizen. “Step away from this area! There’s a dangerous–!” the ranger warned, having his sentence cut off

  “Get out of my way!” Fionn roared, pushing right past him. Before the ranger could get his attention, one of his co-workers grabbed his shoulder and held a finger to his lips, signaling to let him be. “He’s one of the Chrona Riftworks people,” the other ranger informed, “let him be.” They both glanced over to Fionn, noticing he had clenched fists, his face hidden by his hair, and a chilling, black aura flickering around him. His eyes land on the corpse that was his creation

  Yoshi was missing the upper half of her body. Bits and pieces of her guts decorated the innocent grass as her blood painted the stationary tree she had seemingly died on. He noticed there was a hole near the bottom of the tree, assuming it was from the final hit. The only thing that was left from the carnage was the bottom half of her body slumped against the roots, and her red scarf she may have taken off, now splattered with splotches of darker red and stained with the crust of dirt

  Fionn’s eyes watered behind his hair. “Y-Yoshi…,” he mutters quietly. His eyes play a trick on him, showing a small vision of another woman who died because he wasn’t there to stop it…

  Rosie

  His fists tightened until they drew blood from his palms. That image… that damned image. Rosie was lying face down against the floor of her room, covered in her own blood because her son wasn’t there to protect her like he promised when he was young. He wasn’t there to heal her like he said he would. He wasn’t there for her at the time of need

  “It happened again,” he thought to himself, covering his face to shield the tears that dared to fall from his eyes

  His breath stutters as he inhales, his voice coming out much more raspier than normal. “It happened again! It happened again! It happened again!” he growls, his voice growing louder and louder with each repeat, regardless of the surrounding rangers nearby listening in. “It shouldn’t have happened again! Why can’t I prevent it?!”

  The rangers all could sense Fionn’s growing self-loathing, some rushing away from the “danger”. The more experienced rangers thought to report about this from a safe and far distance. They could see the flickering black aura twist and fade into a dark crimson color the further it manifested around his body

  “This kid is scary,” a ranger mutters, peeking from behind a bush

  “Was the victim his girlfriend or something?” another questioned, not daring to speak too loud

  Fionn grabs his hair, threatening to pull it out, no matter if it hurts him or not. “She wasn’t supposed to die!” he roars aloud, frothing at the mouth like a feral animal. His eyes constrict, his body thrusts violently in different directions, as if something was breaching through his skin.. Fionn’s breath spikes with each push, trying his hardest to not explode and take out everything around him, but it was only a losing battle

  The bones in his legs triple in length, his arms double in size, and his body loses its flesh, dropping onto the grass with disgustingly wet splotches to reveal garnet red skin underneath, still dripping human blood. His messy golden hair fell from the top of his head, while the tips of his ears sharpen, and his teeth grow pointed. Although this monstrous state was horrifying to witness, his beautiful green eyes with a small splash of blue gave an eerie vibe to the rangers. Was he still sane? But how?!

  His body was as hollow as his flesh allowed him to be, like they were just bones made from human meat, as well as his feet were sharper and his hands could palm a human’s head if he so pleased. He lets a low, booming guttural growl from his chest, standing upright. The tree looked like bushes with his new height. “Damn it!” he growled lowly under his breath

  A loud, screeching roar erupts violently from Fionn’s throat into the air, scaring the birds and nearby mammals. It shook the forest to its core, rattling the nerves of all present rangers, some of which falling over once their old legs gave out. He glanced over to the rangers, careful not to make them panic any further. “What the hell is that thing?!” a man questioned, horrified. His eyes looked as if they’d shoot out from their sockets

  “Talking would probably scare them more than ease their beating hearts,” he thought to himself, crouching down like a human would. He looked an obedient dog—whether it was calming or even more unnerving was up for debate

  The rangers that were struck with fear hesitated to loosen their stiff stances. None dared to step forward, horrified of what Fionn may do. Thinking about how to disarm them, Fionn sat criss-cross, leaning back on his bony arms. He opened his mouth, but it didn’t move along like a normal humans’ would. “You aren’t my enemy,” he said simply, although his voice had a small echo to it. “I’ll be waiting here until the night.”

  The rangers glanced at each other, confused by what he meant. One ranger steps forward, speaking up although his nerves were still shaking in fear of what may happen. “Y-you mean you’ll intentionally camp—!” he stammered, his sentence getting cut off

  Fionn puts his foot down, regardless of what's to come. “I am a knight of Queen Elara. If the people sleep in fear, then they’ll never know what comfort is again,” Fionn stated, standing up again, “so I plan on killing whoever ruined my creation.”

  The rangers didn’t argue: he clearly knew what his plan is to handle the situation, so the rangers tried to calm themselves to report back properly. “A-alright, sir… u-uhm, we’ll tell the people to stay away from this forest

  “Good.” Fionn said, motioning to meditate for the time being. He remains still like a statue, stilling his breath to flow with the wind. The rangers collectively agreed to leave. There was no point in trying to talk a man out of their dedicated goal. As they begin to leave, Fionn remains in his position. To make sure he remains idle, his transports out of his body, his see through form glowing a very faint white light. His eyes glance down towards his broken creation. Her poor body mutilated while she seemingly had her guard down

  What a pathetic Anomaly to attack at the dead of midnight

  “Yoshi…,” he says in his head, imagining what would’ve happened if he was there for her. “It hurts when your creation gets destroyed without your permission. Art is a beautiful thing… and when that is destroyed, it’ll have to be recreated, but it can never be as good as the original.”

  He carefully picks up her remains, dissolving them with a bright blue glow. As her body fades away with the wind, Fionn puts his hands together, a bright green aura fading into his white body. “To Avalon you go… and list your best life with the others.” he prays, smiling softly

  “Between creation…,” he mutters, glancing at his monstrous wendigo body, “there’s always going to be destruction.” he looks at his hands, getting an idea. “And when destruction lands the last hit… recreation follows shortly.”

  “I’ll shred through them, and make a new creation.”

  Back in the walls of the Elara’s ziggurat, Queen Elara was idly tending to her usual studies. Thanks to the incident earlier, she began working towards researching enhanced light magic and defensive runes to counter the Shadow Anomaly that was said to be in the forest. She flips through an old grimoire, analyzing the pages at break-neck speeds. She jots down information and practices while also writing tips and reminders for herself—she was as impressive as her knights boasted of her. “Mr. Shadow is awake again… that means those outlaws are searching for me again,” Elara mutters to herself, fact checking herself before continuing. “How bastardly to attack an innocent woman. Ugh… no, no, calm yourself.”

  “If I recall correctly,” she said, pausing her study, “the two women who kidnapped me are working for the same person… but I have not seen the spider-faced woman lately. She often would protect me from them as well.” Elara shakes her head, returning to her studies while reminiscing the past they shared

  “She would always show up with her students and treat me to apple cider, sharing stories of her past. Oh, how happy she seemed to talk about herself. I do wish she’s alright under this dangerous situation,” Elara thought, shaking her head to focus. “If Mr. Shadow dare attacks at the dead of midnight again, I put good faith in my heroes and knights to hold him steady so I can slay him once and for all.”

  “He has caused such a ruckus with his awakening that my people have forgotten how mysterious and playful he was with his victims,” she said aloud, but quietly like a reminder. “I do pray Fionn keeps his promise. Mr. Shadow is as dangerous as he is sneaky.”

  There was a light knock at her library’s door. “Lady Elara?” a woman—seemingly a maid—called from behind. “Your evening tea is ready.”

  A small smile expands from the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Peppermint,” Elara called out. The door swings openly slowly to introduce an older maid. She had very few wrinkles, gray curly hair that hung down to her upper back, and moved a bit slower than average. She often had her eyes closed, but could somehow see just fine—not even Elara has figured out why. Peppermint was rolling in a cart with a glass teapot, sugar bowl and teaspoon, and a small plate with a few treats on it: two macarons, three donut holes, two cookies, and brownie. “Bridgette and Aubrey thought to spoil you a bit after hearing about the incident at midnight earlier,” she said, having the voice of a soft grandma. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting your studies, young one.”

  Elara sets the grimoire down, standing upright. “Please, I needed an interruption. I was beginning to worry too much,” Elara responds, picking up a macaron. Peppermint gently rubbed Elara’s head, careful to not mess up her elegant hair. “You are so young, yet so strong. We are lucky the Lord has blessed us with a queen as perfect as you are,” she says, a happy smile stretching over her old face. “Your father and mother would die with joy at seeing their daughter taking care of the legacy they have left her. No gray hairs, and the power to level nations. I’m almost jealous.”

  Elara chuckles to herself, smiling up at Peppermint. She was one of the two oldest maids in the kingdom, even much older than the leading knight. “You’re exaggerating. I’m only able to keep my nation up and running.” Elara replies humbly

  “You are underestimating yourself, Your Majesty,” Peppermint insisted, stepping away partially to pour the tea. “You’re as humble as a merchant, but as sweet as a delicious slice of vanilla cake.” She adds, adding three teaspoons of sugar, stirring it slowly

  Elara chuckles quietly, fanning the air with a hand. “A queen cannot be foolhardy and cruel, especially when her people are terrified to even leave the walls,” she said, nibbling on another cookie. “If I were a tyrant, then not even I would be pleased with my own decisions. My people matter more than I am worth, so yes, I will be the kindest to even the most traitorous hero within my walls.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Peppermint hides her mouth with a hand, giggling at her queen’s statement. “You are ever so wise for someone so young,” she said, crouching down to hug Elara. She rests her head on top of hers, rubbing her back tenderly. “A kind, selfless heart with the voice of an almost adult woman. My, this generation of children should be looking up to you instead.”

  Elara rests against Peppermint, finding comfort in her mother-like presence. “She has not changed her stride since the day she was assigned to take care of me,” Elara thought, memories breaching into her mind. “My favorite maid…”

  Later that night, outside the walls, three figures—one male, two women—were hiding in the forest. They were far away from the walls, but they could still be seen in the distance

  A man’s calm voice broke the quietness between the two. “You idiot,” he commented, sounding as if he was holding back from blurting out an insult. He was lazily stretched across a tree’s branch, swinging his left leg back and forth like a grandfather clock

  The man had straight black hair that reached the bottom of his ears, ruby red eyes with a small splash of a carrot orange color. He was wearing a brown tunic with a black leather belt to hold it in place, black and baggy cloth pants, and combat boots with iron soles and a steel toe cap. He also adorned brown leather gauntlets with the name “Grainne” etched into his right gauntlet. He also noticeably had a black sunburst tattoo on his left shoulder

  He scoffs as he speaks, looking at the taller of the two women. “Now we riled up the other heroes because of you, Skadi.”

  The taller woman—now known to be Skadi—had long, flowing snow white hair that was just a hair away from hitting her lower thighs. She was 5’11ft in height and wore a silver tiara with lapis jewels implemented into the center, lapis earrings that hung from her ears, and a pearl necklace hanging around her neck. She had glowing caribbean green eyes, and a pale skin complex. She was wearing a white fur trim off-shoulder black dress with a brown girdle. She wore flexible white pants, steel knee guards, and black leather boots with a black fur trim. She noticeably had sharp egg shell white painted nails, a beautiful diamond ring around her right ring finger, and a pleasant gold ring around her left middle finger. “Shut up, you insolent fool,” she snapped, glaring at him from the corner of her left eye. “I merely made the mistake of overadjusting our plans and attacking early.” she glances off the side, waiting for permission to go this time

  The man’s face shifted to a smug smirk, thinking of ways to provoke her. “Dumbass,” the man quipped, giggling a bit. “Lady Sophie said not to rush things, and guess who has to mess it up because of their ego?”

  “Would you shut up?!” Skadi snapped, clenching her hands into tight fists

  The other woman speaks up finally, sounding like a child that has not seen joy since she was young. “Jeez…,” the other woman mutters, watching nature from where she was standing. “You two fight like an abusive couple. Diarmuid, quit teasing her. Skadi, calm yourself.”

  Both of them silence their breaths at her command. Diarmuid loses his small grin and stiffens slightly, while Skadi scoffs for being told what to do

  The last woman was almost the height of a child, standing at barely over 4’10ft. She had flat, rice white eyes with oil black hair that stopped at her mid-back. She wore a sleeveless, gray dress under a steel breastplate, thick steel gauntlets for power, thin steel leg guards for flexibility, and small black shoes. She was holding dual short swords with round guards. Both swords had dark brown grips while the silver blades themselves had a cherry red line on the edge towards the point

  “We’ll attack again at midnight. Skadi, keep Obsidian from stalking again. Master Illusion will be with us when we attack this time,” the short woman commanded. “If we screw up again, Queen Elara will have us tracked down and executed.”

  Skadi nods, crossing her arms under her chest. “What about Mistress Catastrophe? Where will she be?” Skadi asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice

  “Didn’t she say the other Toys were going to assist her. Muramasa is staying with Brennen,” Diarmuid said, hopping down from his tree, standing at an overwhelming 6’0ft. “I remember her speech vividly, but she said that Lancelot, Artemis, Joker, and Maximus will be assisting her.”

  “You are correct,” the woman affirmed, recalling the events of the meeting a few days ago. “Brennen did run into a Creation Anomaly, seemingly Mind Creation previously and said to avoid him at all costs.”

  “Oh him,” Diarmuid remembered, a small grin stretching onto his face. “The heroic blonde that’s just another Arthur clone.”

  Keep your eyes peeled and your guard up you two.” the woman snapped, glaring directly at Diarmuid. “We haven’t gotten word from neither Yasmin nor Gi about their whereabouts. Yasmin should’ve at least returned to us by now.”

  Skadi walks forward, a bright blue glow shining in the palm of her right hand as a bow made from thick ice forms with a chilling aura. “I advise we go separate paths then. There is a greater chance we avoid any casualties by doing so,” Skadi suggested, forming an arrow from her cold aura.

  “Aye,” Diarmuid nods, selecting his Greater Set. With double bright scarlet red glows in his hands, two weapons materialize at his command. In his right hand, a crimson red falchion appears with a brown handle, while in his left hand, a blood red boar spear forms with bronze grips. “Best of luck to you two idiots,” he quipped, giggling again

  “Ugh,” Skadi sighs, wishing that she could leave already. “Why did Master Illusion leave this Irish idiot with us? He’s only ranked third of the toys. Artemis would’ve been a better option, maybe even Lancelot over this twat.”

  “Go,” the short woman ordered, a faint yellow glow of light shining in her small stomach. Diarmuid and Skadi split into separate paths as they were told—Diarmuid going right, Skadi going left. The woman looks down at her blades, gauging if she made the right choice to send them off. “Penny should already be in the city, while Obsidian should still be in the forest. Don’t doubt yourself now, Althea, move forward. You’ll get your body back once this is over.”

  Deeper into the forest, Diarmuid’s feet were only slightly ever grazing the soft grass. He leaps over bushes and ducked under lower trees. “Obsidian should still be here too, right? That monster really is as brainless as Maximus said he was.” he thought to himself, cutting through a bush with his blade. “I still can’t believe there’s a Creation Anomaly within our reach…,” he mutters, a small pink blush strikes onto his cheeks, a stupid smile twisting onto his face as different thoughts poked into his head. “Maybe they have a pretty woman that can fall for the Love Spot.”

  He laughs openly at his own joke, hopping over a small broken log. “The look on Grainne’s face will be so adorable when I tell her about sweetening another woman. I wonder if she’ll find a way to restrict me from using my Greater Set as punishment?” he thought to himself, snickering at the thought of Grainne getting so fed up with her own curse. “Nah, she’ll definitely worry over me if she does that. Last time I went hunting with my Lesser Set, I almost died to an angry boar. The look on her face was true despair, even when I was healed back to full health.”

  He slides against the dirt, coming to a stop. “I’m supposed to find Obsidian, right? Where is that dumb at anyway? He seriously—” he stops, pausing as he hears crunching nearby. Was it a small animal? No, that crunching sounded like a footstep that wasn’t his. Diarmuid focuses on his surroundings, ducking low to hide near bushes. He peers around his hiding spot, seeing if anything was nearby. “That was way too close to ignore,” he thought to himself, silencing his breath. There weren’t any following noises, but he wasn’t just going to let his guard down so easily. He waits patiently for anything to leap out: a squirrel, an owl, a mouse, or even a bird.When the coast seemed to be in the clear, Diarmuid moved with careful precision and minimal movement to get away, avoiding twigs and leaves to gain any sort of distance. “That’s… weird,” he thought to himself, glancing around. “Was that from Obsidian?” he asked himself, keeping a tight grip on his red blade

  He takes one more look around, then takes off with another sprint. While he was dashing, he kept his eyes peeled for anything that would’ve attacked him. “That creepy idiot would’ve revealed himself by now if he had noticed me,” he thought, a small smirk forming on his face. “I need to make sure Grainne gives me a barrier charm next time.”

  He hears another low growl nearby again, this time, much more aggressive than before. His eyes widened with surprise, dashing into a bush to hide again. “What was that?!” he thought, his eyes scanning everywhere now. Did it come from behind? His sides? Above? He did not know this time, and that frightened him even more. “There is no way that noise came from an animal, and that’s not Obsidian either!” Diarmuid exclaimed, stiffening his breath again. Whatever that was out there knew what its intention was: kill Diarmuid. Heavy footsteps crunch twigs from behind him. He doesn’t let his curiosity get the best of himself, remaining still until it comes into his field of vision. A low grunt comes from whatever monster that was trying to find him, seemingly growing tired. It passes by his hiding spot, allowing Diarmuid to get a glimpse of the ugly figure in front of him

  Elongated legs, long arms, red flesh-like skin, pointed ears, and disgustingly huge hands. Its face was something not even a mother could love, yet it had the calm eyes of a human man. Was it by accident? Or did a witch do this? He studies the creature some more, gazing more at its eyes. They were far too uncanny to be natural. “What is that thing?!” he thought to himself, trying his hardest not to attack it outright. Who knew what it could do to him once it found its prey?

  The creature growls again, huffing as it retreats to wherever it may have been resting. Diarmuid waits quietly until he couldn’t hear its thumping footsteps before moving out of his hiding spot. “Huh… seemed like a wendigo,” he said aloud, sighing to himself. “The most annoying thing to find in a forest.” He decides to leave the “wendigo” alone as it hasn’t spotted him yet. When he turned to run deeper into the forest, he made a twig snap under his foot unintentionally. His eyes widened slightly, as he heard a sharp growl directed towards him. “Shoot!” he panicked, putting his guard up on instinct. The wendigo rips out a roar to echo around the forest, hiding where it would be attacking from. “Aw crap…,” he mutters

  The wendigo sprints towards him from behind, attempting to catch him off-guard. Diarmuid felt its presence as it rushed over, aiming his blade upwards and carving into its flesh with a clean and swift slash to the knee. “Gotcha,” he quipped, stepping to the side to allow the monster to miss its attack. The blood stains the grass around them. The wendigo falls face first into the grass, growling in pain as Diarmuid glances down at it from the corner of his eye, disgusted by its appearance up close. “Ugh…,” he groaned, walking towards it slowly. “You’re wasting my time, you know. I was looking for a—! GRG!”

  His sentence was cut short by the grunt of pain caused by a sharp uppercut that snapped his jaw upwards, causing him to stumble backwards and catch himself with a tree. From the wendigo’s blood, a boy had jumped out of it to deliver a sneaky strike on Diarmuid. He quickly makes the wendigo disappear with a hand, focusing on Diarmuid

  Diarmuid got a clear look at the boy. Noticeably, he was wearing a white trench coat with “DC.V.3” written in bold white letters outlined in black across the back, black pants, and white boots with flat soles. He noticed the hair matched the description he was looking for: blonde hair, green eyes, and a handsome face

  Diarmuid’s face twists into a small smirk. “Well, I’ll be damned!” he said, readying himself by adjusting his stance. Excitement floods into his voice, as if he was meeting a lifelong rival after being gone for so long. “I’ve been waiting to see you for myself, you generic Arthur clone!”

  Fionn stares directly at Diarmuid’s eyes, narrowing them. “You must be one of King Brennen’s goons,” he said, taking a stance. He shifts a foot outwards, then holds his arms like a boxer. Diarmuid’s grin stretched into a delighted smile. “No weapons, huh? Either you’re cocky from a cheap shot like that,” he taunts, pointing his spear at Fionn, “or you got a death wish waiting to be granted. Tell me, you frat boy, which is it?”

  Fionn’s face turned blank, unamused by his taunt. “I don’t need a weapon to beat the man out of you,” Fionn said, shuffling his feet. He bounces lightly on his feet, getting a familiar feeling. “If you’re just here to talk, get out of my sight.”

  Diarmuid’s grin shifts into another smirk. “Thanks, I wasn’t looking for idle chat,” he said, rushing forward with his blade. “Let’s go then!”

  His blade was blocked by Fionn’s right arm, who attempted to counter with a left jab. Diarmuid ducks under and aims an upward slash with his lance to Fionn’s chest. He leans to the side and shoots out a side kick, directing a hit on Diarmuid’s open stomach. He jumps backwards to not take the hit and gain some distance

  “No mistakes,” Fionn told himself

  “Gotta kill him first,” Diarmuid told himself

  Diarmuid rushes forward again, this time thrusting his spear forward, whereas Fionn kicks it upwards to redirect its aim, while dodging the incoming slash from the blade by shifting to the side again. Just as Fionn dodged, Diarmuid had already moved the spear for a diagonal slash, nearly cutting Fionn’s chest again. He blocked the hit, but was still moved a bit away. Whenever Diarmuid tries to follow up with his assault, Fionn saw a weak point and slammed his knuckles into his ribcage with a lethal right hook

  The smirk of Diarmuid’s face faltered slightly, but couldn’t let his guard down, blocking Fionn’s next punch with his shoulder. Fionn sees an opening, which was close-quarters. Whenever he throws a straight punch at him, Diarmuid blocks with the spear, then attempts to counter with the blade. Fionn ducked underneath the spear, sweeping his leg and aimed to burn Diarmuid with a fireball, but he was already on his feet again. The innocent burning grass between the two cries at Fionn’s miss, sizzling to ash

  Fionn’s eyes glance over the way Diarmuid has been fighting this for the moment“He’s using the spear defensively and to open an attack so the sword can pierce,” Fionn noted, thinking of a counter. “If I disarm him, will he be an easy shot?”

  This time, Fionn runs in, shifting to the left and aims for a body shot. Diarmuid blocks with his spear, then slashes downwards with the sword. Fionn throws his body right, spins on his heel, and then attempts a high kick to Diarmuid’s head. He ducks under the kick, thrusting his sword forward to pierce through Fionn’s stomach. Fionn flips backwards to avoid the attack, a smirk forming on his face. “Oh, I see now,” Fionn said, bouncing lightly on his feet again

  Diarmuid smirks too, shifting his stance. “See what? That neither of us has gotten a decent hit yet?” he taunted, pointing his sword at Fionn again. “Where’s your real power? You’re a Creation Anomaly, right? C’mon man, quick playing around!”

  Fionn noticed something was off in the way Diarmuid spoke. That sounds far too modern for the time period they were in. Ziggurats, queens, knights, and even heroes dressed in fairytale-like clothing, but here Diarmuid was, speaking like he wasn’t even from this era. “Hold on, where did you grow up? You speak way too normal to be from here,” Fionn asked, raising an eyebrow

  Diarmuid’s smirk twists slightly into a surprised look. “Huh? I grew up in America. Got my slang and speech from them as well.” Diarmuid answers, focusing again. Fionn’s eyes widened with the look of a stunned deer. There was no way that he was from the modern era too. But how? “W-what?!” Fionn said, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “How the hell did he get here then if he’s from the modern era? You’d have to travel through the rift in order to do so.”

  Diarmuid’s voice broke through his many thoughts and unanswered questions. “You done already, Anomaly?” he asked, idly twirling his spear. “Quit looking at me with that stupid look and just fight! If you think I’m weak just because of where I grew up, I’ll happily show you what’s up!”

  Fionn laughs slightly at him, taking a more open stance. “I did say I won’t be using any of my weapons," Fionn recalled, his face twisting back into a grin. A blue pulse sparked in his hands, shining like glitter in the air. “But, I never said I won’t be using my abilities.”

  Diarmuid’s face twisted into a matching grin. “Alright, you Anomaly!” he said, readying himself for what’s to come. Fionn and Diarmuid lock eyes, their mirrored grins stretching their faces. A small dosage of adrenaline courses through their bodies, seeing the other for someone that wasn't easy to pushover

  “No cheap shots, got it?” Fionn said, taking his stance

  “Wasn’t planning on it,” Diarmuid responded, clutching his weapons

  They stare each other down, worrying less about their true intentions and focusing more on which of the two would come out on top in this fight