The city's skyline blurred beneath him as Knox hurtled forward at unimaginable speed. Not a punch this time, but something far more devastating. Twin crimson beams sliced through rubble and debris, carving a path through Animavorax's soul-wrought constructs. With each blast, spectral warriors—fragments of the stolen souls—erupted in white-hot energy before collapsing to nothingness.
He slowed mid-air, then exhaled—a frosty plume of ice breath—freezing a newly formed soul-phantom mid-charge. The ice shattered it into shards of ethereal light, detailing the interplay of his powers: fire, ice, force, finesse.
Nearby, Seraph hovered precariously. Her wings fluttered, exhaustion writ on her face. Seeing her falter, Knox skidded back slower than light's reflection. He touched down beside her, heartbeat thrumming in his chest even as he still radiated stellar energy.
"Seraph," he said quietly, voice firm. "You need to rest."
Her gaze burned against his. "I'm fine—"
He placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "I've got this—rest or I'm carrying you out."
Her protests died in her throat. She hovered there, chest heaving, torn between pride and trust. Finally, she nodded, wings drooping with fatigue. He guided her to hover behind a ruined overpass—temporary cover. As she settled, Knox ducked forward, fists ablaze with cosmic fire.
A soul-construct lunged, a shimmering knight made of voices. Knox caught its sword arm with a rib-crushing punch, heat vision burning through its ethereal form before he unleashed an explosive backflip punctuated by ice breath that encased its fading remains.
But Animavorax's influence pulsed—new warrior-iconographies materializing from the ground. Red-coated boys and girls from streets, nurses, workers—now ghost-soldiers under Zareth's control. Knox rose higher, unleashing heat vision in a scorching swath that turned them back into drifting lights before dropping to Earth with a shockwave punch.
He leaped with the roar, he recognized pain in his side—something pulled through, slicing his suit. Blood welled inside his armor. Knox paused, head tilting—his mind racing. Then he realized: within seconds, the wound began to knit itself closed. Flesh knitting together. Suit fibers regenerating.
Healing. He drew a sharp breath. "Shit," he muttered. "That's new."
He found Seraph peeking around the overpass, concern in her eyes. "Knox?"
He shook off the thought, heart steady. "Healing factor. I've got it. I can keep going."
But Seraph's voice was gentle. "Then let me help when you need it."
"I'll tell you." He pushed off, soaring again. "Now rest."
Seraph retreated, and Knox surged forward, speed now much faster—breaking light-speed streaks as he intercepted two phantom-warriors swinging scythe-lights at retreating civilians. He flashed through the battlefield—heat vision cutting, ice breath freezing, punches shattering constructs like crystalline porcelain.
Then Zareth stepped from the darkness—towering now, aura pulsing molten and frigid, thousands of stolen souls swirling beneath his cloak. He spoke with Animavorax's silky resonance: "You drain them with light and cold. Admirable. But you cannot save them all."
Knox squared off. "I can if I have to."
Zareth's cloak billowed. "Then come."
He summoned an army of soul-soldiers—hundreds charging. Knox unleashed his fastest light-speed rush yet, smashing through ranks, unfurling a centrifugal ice-breath cyclone that slowed them. He turned mid-air—heat vision sweeping across their backs, incinerating residual formations.
He touched down before Zareth. His suit glowed with cosmic energy. "I'll stop you. No one else dies."
Zareth's laughter echoed like broken bells. "Your compassion is your weakness."
They collided. Fist to spectral fist—shockwave after shockwave. Knox recoiled, staggering when Zareth slammed him through a concrete column with one arm. But he healed in seconds. He exploded upward with supernova fists, striking Zareth's armor. Zareth's construct cracked—but he didn't fall.
Zareth countered with soul tendrils, slashing across Knox's chest armor. Knox staggered, then froze the tendrils mid-slash with ice breath, shattering them.
He swung again with cosmic fire fists, trailing light-speed afterimages—each strike widening cracks in Zareth's cloak, leaking trapped soul lights like candles in reverse.
Zareth roared, slashing the air and fracturing space. A vacuum burst threw Knox backwards.
Kaelina whispered urgently in his mind: ["Knox—energy reserves spiking. You're in that zone again. Make it count."]
Knox faced Zareth, eyes fierce. "This ends. Now."
He focused, channels heat, speed and energy in tight synergy—manifesting a flare of brilliance above his fist. He struck, fusing a supernova punch with crackling heat and bone-cooling ice, hyperaccelerated. The impact split Zareth's cloak, burst his soul-reservoir open. Thousands of stolen lights burst free, scattering into the sky like a ribcage shattering.
Zareth screamed—a raw, breaking sound. Then, he vanished in a spiral of shadows, leaving behind shredded ground and an empty cloak.
The city around them quaked. Rubble collapsed. Panicked shouts. Buildings buckled under dimensional turbulence. Knox still glowed, panting. His body sizzled. Then the glow faded, revealing armor scorch-blackened, suit shredded in places.
Seraph emerged, wings shimmering faintly. She rushed to him, eyes wide. "Knox."
He winced slightly, then responded with a weary smile. "Are you okay?"
She pressed closer. "I was scared."
He brushed her cheek of ash. "Rest now." His jaw softened. "You did more than you know."
She leaned into him. "Together."
He nodded, voice quiet: "Together."
Above them, shards of freed soul-lights drifted through the sky, forming calm orbs that hovered, like Kasparov's hands in a final chess move—proof of victory, for now.
And below, the city stirred—waking, breathing, healing.
But Animavorax remained. And the war—unfinished.