The scene shifted.
Seko and Izanami tread carefully through a scorched, volcanic region. Steam hissed from cracks beneath their feet, and the distant sky glowed a faint, molten red. The terrain was unstable, every step echoing like a warning.
Then—A sudden gust.Something blurred past them.
Both turned instantly, instinctual.
Nothing.Only the shimmer of heated air behind them.
"I've got a good feeling about this," Seko muttered, cracking his knuckles. "You think he's A-Class? I'd place him at mid-tier—"
He stopped.
So did Izanami.Her voice caught in her throat, her eyes widening.
A hand had landed on her shoulder—but it wasn't an enemy's.
It was Seko's arm.Or what used to be his arm.
Detached.
Burnt.
Still twitching.
It took a moment before blood finally began to drip.
"He's fast…" Seko said, staring at the cauterized stump. "Fast enough to seal the wound before it even bled... friction heated?"
Before the thought could settle—
SCHLKT.A sound like flesh parting.
Izanami gasped.
Her abdomen had been pierced clean through.A blur in blue armor stood behind her, arm still embedded.
His suit looked more like a sleek uniform than combat gear. Streamlined. Sharp. Every edge refined for speed.
"Name's Richie," the figure said, smirking under his visor. "But you can call me Death—"
Before he could finish, Seko's composite sword snapped into place, extending in a violent hiss. His remaining hand was already beginning to regenerate.
Izanami's divine flames flared to life, closing her wound almost instantly. Her golden eyes narrowed. She was already stepping forward.
Seko charged. Sword raised.
But—
CLANG!
He stopped dead.
Izanami was standing in front of his blade.
"Huh?" Seko blinked, confused, his momentum halted by her sudden block.
Then it hit him—literally.
WHOOSH.
Richie passed through Seko.
Not past. Through.
A brief static shock rippled across Seko's body—then silence.His muscles froze. His limbs refused to respond.
A human would've dropped unconscious instantly.
But Seko—a vampire—remained standing, eyes wide in stunned realization.
Even he wasn't immune to the paralysis.
Richie skids to a stop behind them, leaving glowing streaks of scorched earth."That's a first," he mutters. "Most folks drop after that."Seko, now missing half his upper coat and part of his skin layer, clenches his fist as his composite sword realigns."You're fast," he mutters, "but not fast enough to outrun instinct."
Izanami flicks her hand, divine flames curling around her like a second skin, eyes narrowed.Richie smirks. "Two regenerators? Man, I hit the wrong couple."
Before he could vanish again—CRACK!Izanami slams her fist into the ground, divine flames exploding upward in a vertical blast—forcing Richie into the air.
Seko follows up, twisting midair, eyes glowing crimson as his sword extends into a whip-like form."Try running from this."
Richie was launched midair, but instead of panicking, he grinned—his figure flickered, leaving a residual mirage in the sky.
Seko's whip-sword cracked forward like lightning, slicing through the illusion—but the real Richie was already behind him.
"Boo."
Before he could make contact, Izanami blinked between them, her divine flame shielding Seko just in time—Richie recoiled as the flames sizzled across his armor.
"Y'know," Richie said, flicking off molten metal from his arm, "if you two weren't trying to kill me, I might actually enjoy your company."
Seko wasn't in the mood.
"You said we could call you 'death'..." he muttered, his voice low, dangerously calm."…So we'll show you what dying feels like."
Suddenly, Seko detaches the hilt of his composite sword—splitting it into twin blades. Izanami raises her palm behind him, divine flame glowing brighter. They charged—one from the ground, one from the sky.
Richie's expression changed for the first time—his smirk fading as he realized...
They weren't trying to beat him.They were trying to corner him.
Seko's eyes narrowed. His breathing slowed—not from fatigue, but calculation.
He could feel it.
The temperature was rising. Not just around them—but around Richie.His speed wasn't natural—it was thermally enhanced.
Seko stepped back and muttered just loud enough for Izanami to hear,"Head North."
Izanami blinked, instantly understanding. "Copy that."
She turned and began to retreat—heading toward the ice continent, her divine flames dimming to avoid detection.
Richie tilted his head. "North? What, giving me directions now?"
Seko smirked, letting Richie think it was meaningless."Something like that," he replied, stalling. "You run fast… but can you adapt fast?"
The temperature peaked. Steam hissed around Richie. But Seko stood grounded—his regenerative nerves twitching from the burn—buying Izanami the precious seconds she needed to vanish into the cold.
The frozen winds howled across the Ice Continent, cutting through the silence like razors.
Izanami stood tall amidst the frost, her divine flames crackling faintly around her shoulders, a gentle rebellion against the cold. The ground beneath her feet steamed where molten sparks kissed the snow.
In the distance—Footsteps.Limping. Staggered. Fast, but faltering.
Seko's condition had been critical. His body shredded, organs torn out one by one as Richie toyed with him. Yet—He didn't give up.
He laughed.
Not in defiance.In madness.
"HAHAHA! Come at me, you speedy shit! Coward!"His voice echoed across the icy plain, wild and sharp.
Some of it was strategy.Richie was easy prey to ego.But a large part of it… was bloodlust. Seko's bloodlust.
Richie responded immediately—blurring into view, slamming into Seko again.This time, he wasn't holding back.
He plucked organs out of Seko's torso like pulling weeds, knowing full well he wouldn't die.But then… he reached for the head.
The brain.
Seko's thoughts scattered for a moment.Was he… being eliminated?
No time to think.
Only instinct.
Just as Richie's hand neared the center of his forehead, Seko's body jerked—replacing his own skull with the hilt of his composite sword.
"Dismantle!"Seko screamed—not as a command, but a bait.
A distraction.
Richie reacted, backing off just enough to dodge what he assumed would be a standard strike—But Seko hadn't moved to use the sword.
His detached vampiric arm, discarded earlier, twitched beneath the snow—Gripped the blade—And in a flash of steel—extended.
SHHNK!
Richie's leg tore open, bone fracturing under the sudden burst.
He cried out, stumbling backward, limping—Forced to retreat toward the only nearby terrain he could run across: the Ice Continent.
But speed wasn't on his side anymore.Not here.Not with that wound.Not in the cold.
And standing there—Waiting—Was Izanami.
She watched his broken form hobble closer, her flaming sword resting lazily on her shoulder, her posture high and relaxed—yet ready to kill.
"Artificial speed…" she mused aloud. "Speed Force, huh? You're stretching spacetime in short bursts, right?"Her lips curled into a knowing smirk.
The temperature dropped further.
A shadow moved behind her.
Seko.
He was healed now. Fully.
He stepped forward, silent and cold, his expression blank—stoic, unreadable.No more madness.Only purpose.
They both looked down at Richie, who had collapsed onto one knee, panting, trembling.
Izanami with a smirk of fire.Seko with eyes like death.
Richie's breathing was ragged now. The freezing air bit into his skin, his leg dragging slightly through the snow as steam rose from his damaged calf. His eyes darted between Seko and Izanami—two predators, perfectly still in the pale mist of the ice continent.
Izanami tilted her head, her icy-blue flames flickering along the edge of her sword. "Speed Force, was it? Clever toy... but toys break easily in the cold."
Seko said nothing. His gaze was unblinking. Blood dried across his face, but his body was fully regenerated. He stood there—shoulders relaxed, sword at his side, as if he wasn't just gutted a minute ago.
Richie's jaw clenched. "I'm not... done yet," he muttered.
"You are," Izanami replied simply, lowering her stance slightly now.
Then—in a blur of synced motion—Seko lunged forward, sword dragging low with explosive speed while Izanami raised her blade overhead like an executioner. Richie attempted one last flash-step—his figure glitching forward—but his damaged leg buckled.
He was caught mid-phase.
CLANG!WHOOSH!
Izanami's flame-sword erupted, igniting the snow in a line, while Seko's composite blade struck true—piercing the shockwave of distorted space Richie had tried to escape through. The atmosphere around them warped slightly, but the twin attacks overwhelmed it.
Richie fell, body twitching and steaming. Not dead. But beaten.
Seko walked past him with a faint nod toward Izanami."We're done here," he said.
Izanami sheathed her sword lazily. "That's one problem burned and iced."
Richie lay on the frozen ground, steam curling off his armor as the frost crept into every crack of his wounded body. His breaths came in ragged, shallow pulls, bloodied snow melting beneath him. He turned his head slowly, his voice hoarse but defiant.
"Why… didn't you kill me…?"
Seko didn't stop walking. His back turned, steps firm.
Izanami, however, paused. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes cold and uncaring. Her voice was calm—almost bored.
"We don't want to get eliminated, that's all."
And with that, she turned away too, flames flickering quietly behind her as the icy wind howled.The snow fell silently, covering Richie's broken form as the two vanished into the white mist.