Einosuke pulled up short before a deadend. The path he chose ended right at what appeared to be one of the warehouse’s exterior walls. Einosuke skidded to a stop and stood staring at a blank face of corrugated steel probably fourteen meters high. If there were a stack of crates or boxes, he might have tried to climb them, but there was no way out of this, no way to turn but back – and that was the last thing he should do if he wanted to stay reasonably healthy.

“Crap.” His shoulders slumped. “I’m dead meat.”

“Damned straight, you are!”

Einosuke turned to see Otomo stalking towards him, grinning savagely – the same grin he showed Einosuke when he launched his sneak attack a few minutes ago. Had it really been only minutes since they first traded spells? It didn’t seem like it could be possible, so much happened since then.

It was, though. Otomo’s swollen cheek, where Einosuke suckerpunched him, testified to that. So did Otomo’s eyes, blazing with anger and magic, looking for revenge. Einosuke wasn’t familiar with the glyphs floating around Otomo’s fists, but the way his manaccelerator glowed so brightly it lit up the deadend more brightly than the overhead lighting meant Einosuke was in for some serious hurt.

Otomo raised both hands, clasping them and pressing his index fingers and thumbs together like a gun. Aiming them at Einosuke, he said, “Game over, kid.”

Einosuke grit his teeth. Damn it. Stop running, stop panicking and get a hold of yourself! He took a deep breath through his nose. You can do this.

“N-not yet, it’s not.” The young man shook his head no, his longish bangs swinging back and forth, momentarily hiding his eyes.

Otomo let out a little chuckle. “Heh. At least you’ve got some guts. A little late for that, though, after all that running. Now, let’s just get this over with.”

Otomo’s thumbs flicked down like the hammer of a pistol as he shouted, “Bye, bye, now, little Sakurai! Flickering Shot!”

The resulting energy release was intense: a pink-colored beam of magical force burst from the tips of Otomo’s fingers, beginning pencil-thin but growing rapidly as it crossed the distance between them, becoming a column of light large enough to put a hole the size of a basketball through Einosuke’s chest.

Familiar fear surged through Einosuke’s mind, but there was no time to acknowledge it – and no choice but to play his ace in the hole. His right hand clamped down over the manaccelerator on his left wrist and then both arms flew up over his head, his left fist pointed towards the ceiling, willing all his remaining energy into the device. His eyes screwed tightly shut, he shouted, “Last resort: Glittering Barrier!”

Gold-colored energy, sparkling like morning sunlight through water, spread from Einosuke’s manaccelerator, racing along both arms, then both down his body and up into the air. Paper-thin tendrils reached out, searching for and finding each other. The bands of energy touched, combined and solidified, forming a shield around the young man that enveloped his body and extended from it roughly fifteen centimeters in all directions.

At the exact instant the shield was formed, Otomo’s attack impacted with it, sending a splash of energy that washed over Einosuke like waves over a stone, splitting the solid beam into fragments and dispersing it in all directions.

The magical energy was rendered relatively harmless, but kinetic energy was harder to deal with. Despite the protective barrier, the impact of the attack toppled Einosuke, flinging him backwards. One outstretched arm, still protected by his Glittering Barrier, smashed into a stack of crates, sending shards of wood and a cloud of dust flying, as Einosuke skidded backwards across the concrete floor.

Otomo threw up his arm to protect against stray splinters and dust. When the cloud dissipated, he saw Einosuke, half crouched, half slumped, leaning against the support column that the stack of crates he’d smashed had hidden. Einosuke was so still that for a moment, Otomo thought the boy was dead. Then Einosuke let out a groan and slid the rest of the way towards the floor. He rubbed his head and groaned even louder.

Otomo’s shadow fell across the younger man. Einosuke looked up blearily, waiting for Otomo to finish him off. He successfully stopped the older, more experienced mage’s attack, but the cost of doing so left him utterly helpless. There was no place to run and no more cards to play. Otomo was ready to end this.

Otomo pointed one finger-gun at Einosuke, the very tip of his finger glowing bright pink. He grinned lopsidedly. “Like I said, kid, you’re getting better – but you’re still nowhere near good enough.”

Otomo’s “gun” fired with a muted blam.