Chapter 125: Ch123. Victory
Miles charged, and the Master met him.
Their clash sent shockwaves through the shifting battlefield. The scythe’s blade, now humming with temporal energy, carved through the air with a ghostly afterimage trailing behind each arc. The Master’s counter was just as swift, his bare hands and his movements refined to the point of inhuman precision. Every step he took seemed measured, his strikes deliberate, but Miles was no longer playing catch-up.
He could feel it now, the pull of time itself – even though he was not able to use it for more than a few fractions of second at a time.
The battlefield warped around them as their blows collided, the neon lights above flickering erratically. Sparks flew as metal clashed against the unseen force that cloaked everything in the Master’s reach, and each strike resonated with a weight that threatened to break reality itself. The Master shifted his stance, his palm open, and Miles saw it coming before it even happened, a surge of force radiating outward, a kinetic blast meant to knock him off balance.
But Miles moved before the attack could fully manifest. He had seen it, if only for a fraction of a second, just before it took form. His body reacted, twisting out of the way, his scythe arcing forward to counter the movement. The blade struck the Master’s outstretched arm, forcing him to pivot rather than unleash his attack in full.
The Master’s mask tilted slightly, as if acknowledging Miles, but the moment was fleeting. The next instant, he was upon Miles again, shifting in and out of his line of sight with uncanny speed. Miles barely had time to react as a force struck his ribs, sending him skidding backward. He dug his heels in, his armor pulsing as it reinforced his [Doppelganger] cloak, flickering to absorb the force.
He exhaled sharply, forcing his breath to steady. He was keeping up, but barely. The Master’s control over the battlefield was absolute, while Miles was still learning to wield his own abilities.
But he was not done yet.
With a deep breath, he let instinct take hold. The ticking clock embedded in his scythe pulsed, and Miles embraced the strange, subtle sensation that had guided him before. The world blurred, just for a second, and when clarity returned, he had already moved.
The Master’s eyes flickered as Miles bypassed his guard, swinging his scythe upward in a precise, brutal arc. The strike should have landed cleanly, but at the last moment, the Master twisted away, his coat barely catching the edge of the blade. A thin line was carved into the fabric, the closest thing to a direct hit Miles had managed so far.
"You’re learning." The Master said, his voice carrying a note of genuine approval. "But it is not enough."