Mateo now understood why comets coming into the earth's atmosphere were always burning. He could feel the phenomena himself now.
With his speed against the air, he could feel his skin and sweat drying off, the friction even singeing his flesh. On the outside, the threads of his hero suit had even begun to fray and catch fire. Mateo generated slime to not only quench the fire, but to streamline his trajectory, even if that meant sacrificing a tiny bit of velocity.
This is insane. This is fucking insane. I'm going to die. We're all going to die if this doesn't work.
Everything was coming into full view. Fast. Too fast. The buildings enlarging at sonic speed as Mateo adjusted his trajectory to hit the right target. His vision blurred at the edges—blood loss? G-force? Terror? All three?
Just as they had discussed, at the moment before impact, Alex, Henrik and Akira had run out of the blast radius, Man 1 staying still to face the missile launcher which was Mateo.
'This better work.' He mumbled, already at the brink of losing consciousness as he forced his hand to clench the hydraulic mechanism. Focus. Focus or everyone dies. Focus or— He forced far more slime than he had ever done before in this run so much so that the gauntlet hissed and groaned that Mateo thought it was just going to give up on him.
Their eyes met again, and instead of the blank emptiness he saw in their eyes previously, he saw something more human in them. Not wrath or courage, but something... quieter. Like melancholy.
Mateo expected resistance, like the man would raise his arms up or jump towards him to negate his attack, but none of that happened. In fact, the man's arms trembled at the sides, as if he was forcing himself to stay still.
As if he wanted to take the hit.
No time. No time to think. Hit him. Hit him NOW.
Mateo didn't have time to consider the implications of that. Still rushing at insane speeds due to the tendrils' tension, he revved up his arm, producing a slime cushion under the suit fabric of his arm so it won't be pulverized by the reactant force of his punch.
The moment of truth came quicker than he anticipated. Soon he found his fist connecting with the man's face through the white mask, starting with the nose. If it was a normal person, the bone would have given out like butter, but this man's face still provided resistance, like he was trying to crush granite with his bare hands. He could feel cracks emerging, but if he wanted serious damage, he would have to resort to more drastic measures.
Not enough. Not nearly enough. Come on, you piece of shit gauntlet—
He released the hydraulic mechanism of his right gauntlet. The working fluid transferred from the primary cylinders on his wrists to the secondary cylinders on the back of his hand, and then it blew.
The tungsten knuckles, already in contact with the man's face, flew forward, pushed on by the hydraulics. A sonic boom erupted on further impact, shattering the already broken windows nearby.
The sound was so deafening that Mateo temporarily lost his sense of hearing, a loud ringing like that of a bell reverberating in his ears.
Can't hear. Can't hear anything. Did it work? Did it—
As the knuckles flew forward, through the gauntlet that was getting wrecked from the impact, he could feel the satisfying crunch of bones as the gauntlet, given a hydraulic boost, crushed the front of the man's face, fracturing the skull from the force. Mateo suspected that his punch would have left a man-sized crater if it landed on the concrete floor, so the fact that it only broke his skull and didn't even pass through the other side was a testament to how insanely tough these guys were, even when he was going multiple machs.
That wasn't to say everything was sunshine and rainbows for Mateo. In his duel with Inferno, he had a simple fracture when he used the hydraulic mechanism. Now, since the knuckles had gone through multiple times the speed of sound, the recoil was even greater on his body. Even with the layer of slime he had created under the suit to absorb the impact, he could still feel his bones cracking, painfully shattering to dozens of pieces.
But it was all a necessary precaution.
All this happening in a single second, Man 1 was thrown to the ground, cracking the pavement where he hit, while Mateo fell to the floor pitifully, the first layer of his plan complete.
His body felt completely battered, like the punching bag he had beaten up so much he had to duct-tape it to keep the sand inside. His head felt light and heavy at the same time, due to the rapid acceleration rates, the bloodflow had become irregular. His left arm felt like a used piece of chewing gum, while in his right arm used in the final punch, the shards of ivory bone piercing at the insides of his flesh almost threatened to turn off his brain so he wouldn't need to deal with the pain.
Phase one complete. Stay awake. Stay awake, you idiot. They need you for phase two.
All-in-all, he felt like a sack of shit that had been set on fire and stomped to quench it.
But he wasn't sure his opponent felt the same way. Even though he had taken a direct hit to the cranium that would lead to severe brain damage even if one survived from it, he stood up, a little crookedly like he was tipsy, but now he was on his two feet.
He brought his hands to his head through the mask. The brief melancholy Mateo saw in his eyes before he punched him was gone, replaced with the familiar machine-like indifference.
And he had still not said a word until now.
Alex stepped forward, her black jacket torn at the shoulder from debris, white tank top underneath stained with sweat and dust. Her rugged jeans had a fresh rip at the knee, but her stance was solid, determined. "Round two, asshole," she muttered under her breath, clenching her fists.
Akira moved to flank the other side, her green wushi top pristine despite the chaos, yellow sash bright against the destruction around them. Her black bontan pants flowed as she positioned herself, and there was something almost ceremonial in her movements—like she was performing a ritual rather than preparing for a fight. "This ends now," she said quietly, voice carrying an edge of finality.
The other three rushed forward, ready to initiate the second and third part of the plan, even though the ringing persisted, so all the orders they barked fell on literal deaf ears.
The comm on his ear crackled and finally stopped working, the receptor having been turned to a mangled piece of metal and springs due to his fighter jet performance. Reeves would not be pleased.
Can't hear them. Can't coordinate. This is all on instinct now.
Still, he knew they weren't done. The man's damage would be fixed in a couple of seconds, so they had to finish this now in his momentary stage of relative weakness before he got back to full strength. Even though Mateo would rather lie down on the hard ground and sleep for the next year.
Even still, he forced himself back up through the pain, his right arm limp, and his whole body stiff and throbbing.
They all knew the second part of the plan.
Restrain.
For some reason, Man 1 seemed to primarily target Henrik.
He would still throw punches at Akira, Alex and Mateo, but the pale-skinned wiry framed boy seemed to be his foremost target.
There's something about Henrik. Something this thing recognizes. What aren't you telling us, Henrik?
They didn't know why, but Mateo would exploit that fact readily.
They had arranged for Henrik to stay at the farthest point from Man 1. As soon as his eyes landed on Henrik, he barreled forward like a wild bull.
That would be where Mateo and Alex would restrain him.
As they planned, Alex clamped her hand into a fist, and the man's speed was slowed, but not to enough of a degree to completely stop moving. "Come on, you bastard," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Slow down!"
She's straining. Never seen Alex strain like that. This thing is stronger than anything we've faced.
Mateo took the opportunity. With his working arm, he shot a tendril over the distance, though it was weaker than his previous ones due to his over-exertion for this fight.
Aiming to overcome the individual strength with quantity, he shot out several more tendrils at the man. When he started moving along with him, he anchored himself to the ground to keep him grounded and in place. Now he felt like the attachment points of his tendrils, feeling like he would be torn apart if this ordeal lasted for seconds more.
Hold. Hold. Hold, damn you. Don't let go. Everyone dies if you let go.
"Akira! Now!" Alex shouted, veins bulging in her neck from the effort of maintaining her power.
Fortunately, a few seconds was all they needed.
Akira threw her stun net at the man again, her movements precise and calculated. "
Just a couple of minutes ago, he had torn it apart with ease, but now, in his weakened form, he struggled with the net over him, the current making him twitch, but unable to stop him completely.
But all they needed was to slow him down for their plan to work.
As they gave it their all, Henrik stood at the intersection between two buildings, in a corner, as bait, as the man slowly clambered on, the head injury making him walk like a drunken man.
Almost there. Phase three is already happening.
Just as they lost all hope to stop the giant, he suddenly came to a halt. Not because their attempts at restraining him had worked, but because something far worse was happening to him.
He paused, as if thinking about something, and then his hand went to the spot where his mouth would be and lowered his body. He removed his hand, only to find that it was covered with blood.
Yes. YES. It's working.
The red fluid had stained his white sock robber mask, and the man's head swiveled from side to side, as if dumbfounded by what could be causing this.
Swiftly, a vivid green snake head with black speckled scales appeared out of the man's eye socket, flickering its tongue as it transformed into a jaybird and swiftly flew away.
The man would've extended his hand, clutched it in his grip and squashed it to death, but sharp pain in his eyes caused him to stop. Soon, blood flowed out of there too, and then through the nostrils, and even through his ears.
Seconds later, blood started flowing out of each of the small cuts they had inflicted during the fight, and then he was brought down to one knee, his head shape still oblong, as if it hadn't completely healed.
Phase three complete.
Of course it wouldn't be healing anytime soon, because of Mateo's plan.
When the blunt trauma wasn't enough to bring this titan down, the B-2 team resorted to the next two phases of their plan.
Restraint.
By slowing him from reaching Henrik, they planned to restrain him for a brief amount of time.
But that wasn't all their plan amounted to. In fact, the Restraint phase was a necessary distraction.
While Man 1 was struggling against their restraints in his weakened form, Phase 3 had already begun.
Breakdown.
Man 1 thought their final, desperate strategy was to try and stop him from attacking, but while he fought against their defenses, Dong was made to transform to its mite form, tiny enough to go unnoticed by their attacker, into the one place that wasn't protected by his seemingly invulnerability.
His eyes.
While the rest of his skin was nearly impossible to break into, demonstrated by when Dong's teeth couldn't pierce through his skin, they needed a way to bypass that and yet have immediate effects. And since the man's eyes were the only part of his face not covered by the white mask, it made the perfect target.
While in mite form inside the man's eye socket, Dong transformed into a boomslang, and when its fangs pierced into the eye's soft tissue, the venom caused massive hemorrhaging, making him bleed from every orifice, and slowing his clotting and healing abilities, the major factors that made this fight so hard to win until now.
"Holy shit," Alex breathed, staring at the bleeding figure. "We actually got him."
Akira nodded grimly, but kept her guard up. "Don't celebrate yet. He's still breathing."
Now, the muscular man in the black and white checkered suit was on the ground, leaking blood from all his holes, their plan succeeded.
His ears still ringing, Henrik walked up to the man and pointed his gun at the man's head. Even though he couldn't hear him, Mateo could read his lips and tell through classic Henrik behavior what he wanted to ask.
'Should I finish him off?'
Do it. End this. Please, just end this.
The other two girls stood a safe distance away from the man, and after a little thinking, they nodded. With all of his bleeding, they would basically be doing him a favor by killing him right now.
But something felt wrong. The melancholy in the man's eyes earlier. The way he'd stood still to take Mateo's punch. The fixation on Henrik. None of it made sense.
This isn't over. Something's wrong. This isn't—
Just as Henrik was about to pull the trigger, Mateo tried to shout a warning, but his voice came out as a croak. The man's eyes snapped open—not the dull, machine-like stare they'd grown accustomed to, but something wild, desperate, almost human.
The man suddenly lunged at Henrik, not with the calculated precision they'd seen before, but with the frantic energy of a cornered animal. He knocked Henrik backwards into one of the building walls, and even though Mateo couldn't hear yet, he imagined a sickening thud or even a crack as Henrik fell down from the impact.
"Henrik!" Alex screamed.
Before Alex and Akira could react, the man spun toward them. He wasn't healed—blood still poured from every orifice, his movements were erratic and desperate—but somehow, being on the brink of death had triggered something deeper. Some final protocol. Some last-ditch survival instinct.
No. No, no, no. We were so close. We were—
He dashed to the already crumpled Mateo quicker than thought. Mateo brought the left hand of his gauntlet up in a pathetic attempt to block, but he was too slow, or Man 1 was just too fast, driven by whatever final surge of adrenaline was keeping him upright.
The kick slammed into Mateo's chest like a freight train, and he felt ribs crack as he was launched backward toward the building wall. The impact drove the air from his lungs, and stars exploded across his vision.