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Chapter 12 - Chapter 11: Checkmate

Haze knelt on the cracked concrete, his breath ragged, blood dripping from his split lip.

His once-pristine suit was torn, his dagger lying shattered a few feet away.

Above him, Arthur loomed, his mismatched eyes cold and unreadable.

"This is actually depressing," Arthur muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Are you really this useless without your powers?"

Haze coughed, wiping blood from his mouth, "Go to hell."

Arthur's left eye pulsed—and Haze's power returned in a rush of swirling smoke, "I feel bad, honestly, so you can have it back."

Haze's lips curled into a sneer, "Big mistake."

In an instant, his body dissolved into a cloud of suffocating darkness, lunging at Arthur's exposed back—

Bruce's fist connected with Haze's jaw mid-lunge, sending him crashing face-first into the ground.

Bruce smirked as he cuffed the unconscious Haze, "It was pretty obvious that you were going to attack from behind. Desperation makes a man do anything to win."

Arthur sighed, walking over to his trench coat, "The man clearly doesn't know how to fight properly. A couple of nights in prison will fix that."

Bruce loudly replied, "Shouldn't we not want him to become better at crime?"

"Relax, it's a joke, and why did you steal my win?" Arthur shot back as he approached Bruce.

Bruce nervously waved his arms around, "I-I get that, but you were being a bit too brutal, and I thought it's best we go deal with Donfather as a team, you know."

Arthur playfully wrapped his right arm around Bruce's neck and roughly messed his hair, "Someone quite submissive. I'll let it slide if you sneak me out whenever I ask."

Bruce, sounding defeated as he adjusted his glasses, "Sure, just be careful with the hair."

Diamondback staggered, his crystalline body flickering under Duke's relentless assault.

Cracks spiderwebbed across his diamond skin, his once-impenetrable defense crumbling.

"I'm impressed you're still standing even getting by fifteen hundred multiplier? You must have strengthened your diamond form over the years," Duke taunted, rolling his bruised knuckles.

Diamondback snarled—only to be suddenly lurched upward as an invisible force yanked him off his feet.

Annie floated above, her emerald aura flaring as she swung Diamondback like a wrecking ball before hurling him straight at Duke.

"HOME RUN!" Duke crowed, winding up—

His fist connected with Diamondback's jaw with the sound of shattering glass.

The crystalline villain sailed through the air, crashing through a brick wall before sliding to a stop.

Annie gracefully landed on Duke's shoulder, grinning, "Nice hit. Make sure to reset your multiplier before you touch someone."

Duke performed a quick jab, "There, at least your hand is still working."

Bruce appeared beside them, shaking his head before walking over to cuff the groaning Diamondback, "Show-offs," he muttered.

Donfather was panting, clutching his bleeding chest. His explosions had grown weaker, his movements sluggish. And now, Galahad had vanished—leaving him face-to-face with all four heroes.

Arthur crossed his arms, "Give it up, Donfather. You're done."

Don's remaining eye twitched, "YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFEAT THE ALL-MIGHTY DONFATHER!!!"

With a roar, he charged his remaining energy into his palm—a miniature sun forming in his grip—before hurling it at them in a last-ditch explosion.

Bruce smirked, "Teleporting."

The world twisted—and suddenly, they were behind Donfather.

Annie's voice slithered into Donfather's mind: "Behind you."

Donfather whirled, arm raised to blast her face, but he locked eyes with Arthur as he was getting ready for a punch.

His left eye flared crimson.

Donfather's Trigger died, "Oh shi—"

Arthur came with a full-force punch to the gut before sidestepping for Duke, who delivered a full-force knee to Donfather's face.

Annie used her psychic abilities to pull Donfather in for a kick against his face, which sent him spinning before Bruce teleported above him to deliver a right hook that drove his head to the hard ground.

Silence.

Donfather lay unconscious before the four heroes.

Arthur exhaled, rolling his neck, "Mission accomplished."

The team exchanged glances—then grinned.

Their first victory. A surge of pride swelled in Arthur's chest as he surveyed the fallen Donfather, the weight of their teamwork sinking in. This wasn't just a win—it was proof he could stand with others, not as a pariah but as a hero.

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