The dust from the earlier clash still hung in the air like a hazy curtain, but the one-on-one between Ryū and Ken had carved out its own pocket of chaos in the ruined plaza… No one else interfered.
The surrounding fighters had pulled back, eyes wide, as the two circled each other under the fractured sky. Broken concrete jutted like teeth from the ground. Twisted rebar glinted in the fading light.
A half-collapsed building loomed nearby, its exposed girders groaning with every tremor.
Ken moved first,
He blurred—not a streak of pure speed, but a ripple, like heat haze over asphalt.
Light bent around his form, folding the air so his silhouette flickered in and out, one heartbeat he was ten paces away.
The next, his fist drove toward Ryū's ribs in a lance of concentrated photons.
Ryū's arms snapped up, the impact landed with a sharp crack, force rippling through his bones.
He skidded backward, heels carving grooves in the debris, but he stayed upright.
