Super Powereds: Year 3 (23 page)

Instead, he blocked, and the attack halted as Angela took in his new form.

“How’d you pull that off?” Angela asked from across the room.

“I eat a tremendous amount of minerals and supplements daily, so much so that it would be toxic if I let them interact with my organs. It is a pain, but the upside is that it means I have enough raw materials to do remodeling, when called for,” Chad replied. His speech was slightly garbled, due to the protrusions of bone wrapped around his cheek.

All along his body, an armor of his own had sprouted. Unlike Angela’s, it did not cover him fully; however, it did run along each limb, and it covered much of his head, neck, and torso. It was white as bone, because that was exactly what it was: an armor of bones that had grown out from his skin in seconds, sprouting from countless holes so that it was sectioned enough to allow for his usual graceful movement. On his left forearm, a golden dagger was wedged less than half an inch deep into the boneguard he’d blocked it with.

“Tough as my skin and muscles are, your weaponry can still pierce them. Bones allow for much greater concentrations of carbon, though. They won’t cut so easily.”

“You’ve gotten better,” Angela complimented.

“Just wait.” Chad drew back his foot, the concrete scraping away as the armor on his sole tore across it, and prepared for his counterattack.

39.

Flecks of concrete showered the nearby wall as Chad vaulted forward, the force of his push-off and the sharpness of his new armor combining to tear deep grooves in the floor. He’d gotten no more than a few steps before Angela’s assault renewed, golden weapons arcing toward him from every conceivable angle. They slowed his charge, but they were nowhere near strong enough to halt it. When it had just been a game of evasion, Chad had been forced to follow the flow of the battle. Now, things were different. Now, he didn’t just have to leap out of the way, he also had the option to block. That made a world of difference.

Weapons were sent careening as he continued his charge, casualties of the powerful blows he delivered from his armored appendages. True, the weaponry was still powerful enough to nick even his ultra-resilient bones; however, he was able to patch those minor scratches as he moved. He reached his opponent in a matter of seconds, taking just long enough for her to direct the seven-foot tall shield into his path.

This time, there was no fancy jumping maneuver to redirect his momentum. Instead, he used it as extra force behind a bone-covered punch, meeting the shield with an audible crunch and sending it flying into a nearby wall. Before he could move closer to his opponent, another shield appeared in front of him. Chad readied another blow; however, the shield surprised him by surging forward and striking his chest. It wouldn’t have been enough to topple him, except some unseen object struck him in the back of his knees. The combined forces overcame even his exceptional balance and sent him to the floor with an audible thud. Chad rolled as soon as he struck, the sharp edges of his armor leaving long gouges in the concrete. Within moments, he was back on his feet and surveying the scene.

The object that had taken him in the knees was another shield, this one sized small enough that a person might actually be able to wield it. The two tower-sized ones were flanking Angela on either side, while the smaller one hovered directly in front of her. He needed to break through them before he’d have a shot at taking her on.

An unsettling crunching sound filled the air as the bones of Chad’s armor shifted. The edges grew sharper; protrusions jutted out from his knees, knuckles, feet, and shoulders. Each one was conical, shrinking into points so sharp it was hard to tell where they actually ended. From his forearms came long, curved bone blades, each roughly the length and shape of a wakizashi. Their edges looked as though they could cut through the very light of the sun. Which was, in an odd way, not too far off from what Chad was planning on trying.

He met the first shield with a raised knee, sinking its sharp protrusion into the golden surface and using it for leverage to steady himself. In an instant, he twisted his torso and arm, bringing the bone blade around and slicing through the light construct with an audible grunt of effort. Strong as Angela’s creations were, Chad was stronger. The two shield halves made a tinkling noise as they clattered to the ground, then vanished in a soft white glow. He immediately jumped left as his feet touched the ground, dodging the blow from the second shield. This left the item tilted downward and directly in front of him. Chad cleaved the second tower shield in two with far less effort than the first. He had readied himself to finally engage his target when a large object crashed into his side, sending him sprawling to the ground.

It was a tower shield. As Chad pulled himself from the floor, he watched another replacement form next to Angela. The ricocheted weapons had finally been recovered as well, circling her head like golden vultures, waiting to tear him apart when next he was vulnerable.

“As monstrously powerful as you are, there are two flaws in your fighting tactics,” said Angela’s voice from the glowing armor. “And right now, one of them is all too clear. You lack the ability to fight at a range.”

Chad smiled, a wicked expression due to the segments of bones jutting out from his face. He’d been wondering if it would come to this, and not only had it, but she’d been so kind as to offer him a perfect lead-in. He’d have to be careful: this technique still gave him some trouble, and it was incredibly dangerous. For the first time in years, Chad felt the rush of true battle surge through him, a feeling he in no way allowed his emotional control to dampen. This was what it meant to fight, to grow, to learn, to push oneself, and to risk it all. This was what no classroom would ever be able to duplicate.

A segment of skin opened on each of his forearms, areas the bone armor had purposely left uncovered. Beneath the open skin, blood flowed over muscle, clear as day to anyone looking through the holes. Then, the blood began to deviate, flowing upward and then down again, as if an invisible hill had manifested in the muscle. This magical hill grew upward, thinning out as the blood was pushed outward, and then pulled back in until it appeared that a long, red tendril was stretching out of each of Chad’s arms.

“I only saw a video of my father doing this once,” Chad said, his voice haggard as his concentration focused on maintaining the flow. “He didn’t develop the technique until a year before his death, so it took me a long time to put it together.”

“Really creepy blood flow?” Though her words were flippant, the tone of Angela’s voice made it clear that she was definitely not feeling certain in what to expect.

“Not at all. Did you know that with my power, I don’t actually need my heart to beat? I can just will the blood along, moving it at whatever speed suits me best. That means the speed is entirely at my discretion, and lucky me, I have enough spare resources to rapidly create extra blood on the fly. One last thing: are you familiar with the concept of a water saw?”

It was all about visualizing points, Chad had realized. When the blood hit the air, it immediately accelerated, firing across its course in a fraction of the time it should take. Equally important, however, was the rerouting point on the other end of the arm, turning the blood back around in a loop vein he’d just constructed so it wouldn’t interfere with his normal circulation. A joint vein just before the opening ensured he could add more blood as needed, lengthening the tendril on command. Of course, it was still ridiculously dangerous for anyone, even him, to attempt. That was why he’d decided only to use it on a worthwhile opponent.

40.

The first tendril arced forward, a curiously soothing hum emanating from the impossibly fast speed of the blood. It was met by several weapons, all of which were sliced in half as soon as they made contact. The cleanly-cut pieces fell to the ground, some dissipating before they even made landfall.

The second tendril was slightly slower in its approach and was met by one of the tower shields. Unlike the weapons, this golden defense didn’t cleave instantly; however, it only took a few seconds of contact before the blood-saw shredded through it, and a pair of uneven shield halves fell to the ground.

A surprise attack like that might have overcome a lesser opponent, but Angela was not at the top of her class because she was easily rattled. The armored figure backed away quickly, placing the second shield between herself and the nearest tendril, then directing the entirety of her armory at Chad. For a moment, Chad pressed his attack, striking at the shield clutched in her armored hands. A surge of effort tore a deep groove in the golden surface and knocked both the shield and its bearer to the ground. Always a warrior, Angela fell with the shield on top of her to provide one last bulwark of defense. At that point, however, her own offense was able to turn Chad’s focus onto keeping himself safe. With his blood-saws out, he was unable to move, so he was forced to use them as defense, chopping up the weapons before they could land blows on him. True, his bone armor offered him some defense, but the need to move freely had forced him to leave much of his body uncovered.

By the time he’d destroyed enough of the attacking weapons to refocus, the golden-armored warrior had emerged. Rather than picking up the battered shield, Angela summoned ten more, each tower sized, then grabbed the smaller one with her left gauntlet. A golden sword appeared and deposited itself in her right hand. There was no more witty banter; it was clear that now was the moment these fighters would finally clash. Both knew there was likely to be only one such confrontation.

Angela charged, the ten tower shields circling her in various directions as she ran. Chad responded quickly, lengthening the blood-tendrils so he could strike several shields at once. The blows rang out, and the song of blood slicing through constructed light filled the room. He was fast, he was focused, and he was good, but as Angela neared striking distance, she still had two tower shields remaining. His options were limited: he could try to take out the shields, but Angela would definitely close the gap, and he was far more vulnerable when using this skill. He could drop the tendrils, but then the encounter would play out like his first try, only this time, Angela would be waiting with her blade when he went down.

That was when a desperate idea, the sort that can only come when one has no logical options left, was born. Chad let the tendril on his right arm drop, merely ceasing the flow and sealing the hole rather than trying to undo all the reconstruction. The exposed blood splattered to the ground like fat red raindrops, the sickening scent of copper permeating the air. It was nauseating, but it had the effect he’d hoped for. Only having to sustain one tendril freed up his concentration enough to become mobile.

The remaining tendril lengthened and darted, curving around until it was striking both of the remaining tower shields. It stopped them as it sliced, but Angela was able to slide underneath. She kept moving forward, last shield raised in defense and blade at the ready. Chad waited patiently, a look of feigned concentration still etched onto his face. Just as she arrived and swung, he leapt back a half-step, sending the attack wide and knocking her off balance. The blood of the last tendril splashed to the ground as Chad let its movements cease.

He stepped forward, knocking the sword to the ground with one blow while sending the shield flying with another. Strong as Angela was, he was better in up-close combat. Whirling quickly, Chad knocked her feet out from under her, grabbed her shoulder plate with his left hand and brought his right forearm around so that the bone-blade rested against the glowing chainmail on her neck.

“Deathblow,” Chad said, his breathing heavy. “I win.”

That’s when the armor came apart, snapping away on hidden seams, and throwing its various parts and pieces around him. The hollow armor quickly became a golden trap, grabbing Chad’s various appendages and yanking them back before he had a chance to understand what was happening. He began to struggle, but then he noticed a dozen pinpricks of pain along his neck and spine. The trap armor had blades within, ones now pressing with observable force on the skin between the gaps in his armor.

“Actual deathblow,” came a voice from across the room. The scarred shield, the one Angela had fallen under moments ago, lifted up to reveal his blonde opponent, no longer clad in any armor save for her unassailable confidence. “I win.”

In that moment, it crystallized in Chad’s mind. He’d seen her go under the shield, then he’d seen the set of golden armor getting up from next to it, but in the fracas of battle, he’d never actually witnessed
her
emerge.

“I yield,” Chad said. “You could have killed me. This victory is yours.”

“Angela DeSoto wins the match,” announced the voice from the speaker. As it did, Chad’s bindings, along with the rest of the glowing objects in the room, vanished in a shower of light. Chad found himself falling to the floor now that he was free, and found no real inclination to stop himself.

Angela crossed over to him and knelt beside him. “I guess you’re down to one weakness now. You don’t know how to think sneakily.”

“It seems I do not,” Chad agreed.

“Well, you lost, so I think you know what this means,” Angela said.

“Of course. I will keep my distance from you as much as possible from now on.”