No Man’s Land had grown darker, but not because of the time of day—clouds were beginning to gather above them.

Deon watched uneasily as Pang and Skrili stared at each other. It was as if their battle had continued through their gazes alone. Pang was clearly on the offense, trying to break through the mental shield Skrili placed around her secret. Skrili glared back, seeming both determined and afraid.

So Skrili doesn’t want Pang to know about the picture of her brother? Deon realized. Why?

He recognized Skrili’s current demeanor from the other day, when they were in their final phase of training against each other: she had tried to put on a front of toughness, when in reality she was close to breaking. It was the same now—only she was already defeated physically.

“What was Deon about to say?” pressed Pang. “Why are you getting all dramatic?”

Skrili was silent.

“Then again…” Pang began pensively, “You never really seemed that driven to get certified…To be honest, I was surprised you already found another teammate.” She smiled, amused by her own realization. “So this whole time you weren’t even tracking me down to get your TeamTrack back. You want something else. That’s pretty low, Skrili, dragging poor Deon around to help you, giving him false hope.”

Saying nothing, Skrili looked away.

“So what is it, then?” Pang pressed. “Forget it—I’ll just go find out for myself.”

“No…” mumbled Skrili. Her mental defense was broken, and her stoic expression shifted to worry.

Pang ignored Skrili and turned, beginning her way over to Skrili’s blue bag, which lay beside her own several steps away.

“Don’t…” Skrili urged, this time a bit louder. With the little strength she still had, she slowly climbed to her feet.

Pang turned back around. Then suddenly, a giant shoe—identical to the one Deon imagined in their training—faded into existence in front of Skrili. It was big enough to hit her entire front side at once. The shoe sprung forward and banged into Skrili, who tumbled helplessly to the ground and rolled to a stop.

The shoe disappeared. This time, Skrili didn’t try to get back up.

Pang glanced at Deon. “Thanks,” she said, and she continued to walk towards the bags.

Did—did she just borrow my powers to attack Skrili?! Deon thought. His heartbeat increased—it was one thing to keep knocking Skrili down when she clearly couldn’t fight anymore, but using Deon as a tool to hurt her?

Now he was disgusted.

“Whoa, hey, wait a second!” he shouted at Pang. “I don’t care if you’re a Manipulator, I won’t let you get away with using my own powers on my friend!”

“Get over it,” Pang said impassively. She kept walking.

That cut the chord for Deon. He bolted at her, fists clenched and heart racing. You think you can just do anything you want?! I’ll put an end to that, he thought.

Pang didn’t even turn around when he closed in. Out of nowhere, something grabbed Deon from the side and swooped him right off of his feet. It hurtled him across what was left of the clearing and pinned him hard against a thick tree trunk. Only his head was free from the trap, and the rest was stuck against the tree, suspended up in the air.

Deon looked down at the trap: it was a giant, floating hand. The hand appeared slightly cartoonish, as if it had been quickly sketched.

What the?—So she can use my Imagining to make things I’ve never even tried before?! Deon realized. Frick, I can’t even move!

He was now a slight distance from where Pang stood and Skrili lay, but close enough to see and hear them clearly. Pang had reached Skrili’s bag and picked it up.

“Let’s see…” said Pang. “What could my good friend Skrili be hiding from me?” She reached into the bag and began shuffling through Skrili’s things shamelessly. Her hand emerged with a blue shirt much like the one Skrili was wearing. “Nope,” Pang decided, dropping it on the ground beside her. Next she pulled out a couple black hair elastics identical to the one Skrili had been wearing and using in fights. She smirked and tossed these to the side, as well.

This continued for a moment, as Pang pulled out a few more appliances like more clothing, shampoo, and some simple tools, and dropped these in a pile. Growing impatient, she turned the whole bag upside down and dumped all of its contents out onto the ground. The pile of Skrili’s belongings consisted mostly of dark blue and black clothing and portable toiletries, save one small, rectangular device. It was in a sleek yellow and gray case, and featured a black glass screen.

The device was totally alien to Deon, so he determined it must be Skrili’s TeamTrack. So that’s what consciousness fighters need when they go pro…he noted.

Still holding the emptied bag upside down, Pang observed the pile. “I don’t see anything secretive here,” she announced disappointedly. She rattled the bag a bit in case anything was still stuck. After she did, a small piece of paper-like material fluttered out and floated to the ground. Intrigued, she picked it up to get a closer look.

There’s the picture, Deon noted.

“This is just adorable!” exclaimed Pang emotionally—but Deon couldn’t tell if she was acting or not. Still looking at the picture intently, she suddenly turned to Deon and walked closer to him “Isn’t this just the most precious thing?” she asked, holding up the picture for him to see.

Having only seen paintings and drawings back in Tailpiece, Deon was surprised to find the image was a frozen piece of reality.

But while that amazed him, he was even more shocked at the content of the photo itself. In it, a teenage girl and a little boy were sitting together and hugging. It took Deon a moment to realize that the teenage girl was, in fact, Skrili.

Her clothing was the first reason he hadn’t recognized her. Skrili wasn’t wearing blue like usual, but had on an old, frayed, brown rag of a dress. Her hairstyle was the same—though a bit longer—and if it weren’t for this he wouldn’t have known it was her, because her face seemed totally different. Skrili was smiling widely, her eyes shining with happiness as she looked back at him. She was filled with joy—or more than that, love.

The young boy she hugged had on the exact same smile. In fact, he resembled Skrili incredibly. His face was rounder, but he had the same midnight blue hair and deep purple eyes. His hair was relatively short and disorderly, and his dusty shirt and worn shorts matched his sister’s rags.

“Hmm,” was all Deon could think to say in response.

“Please…” came Skrili’s voice faintly.

Deon and Pang looked over to her. Skrili had lifted her head and was gazing at Pang with desperation.

“Please…” she repeated. “I need that picture...”

Sympathy arose in Deon. He had no idea why this picture was so absolutely important to her—all he knew was that she refused to give up.

“Please, Pang,” Skrili said shakily. “Please give it to me.”

Deon could hardly watch Skrili like this. It made him squirm to see her so helpless. This was the same girl who had effortlessly taken him down countless times, constantly corrected his ignorance, and allowed him to accompany her in her travels only because she thought he was too pitiful to last in No Man’s Land on his own. And now she was lying in the dirt at Pang’s mercy, begging.

Surprisingly, Pang appeared just as disturbed by this. “Cut it out, Skrili,” she snapped. “Just cut it out. You’re making me sick.”

“Please…” Skrili repeated. Her voice was beginning to sound choky.

Deon’s unease increased as he realized she was about to cry.

“Stop it!” Pang demanded.

“Please…”

“Pang,” started Deon. “It’s just a picture, right? Maybe you should just give—”

“YOU STAY OUT OF THIS!!!” Pang shouted, whipping her head around at Deon and shooting a deadly glare at him.

Deon flinched behind the giant hand, wondering what he did to make her snap like that.

Pang refaced Skrili. “So you want your little picture, do you?” she asked darkly, beginning to walk over to Skrili. When she reached her, she stood in place silently for a few moments, watching Skrili lie there on the verge of tears.

The clouds now took up most of the sky.

Pang shook her head slowly. “You look so pathetic,” she told Skrili. “We used to be unbeatable. No one could touch us. Now I’m better than ever, on my way to get certified. But what about you, Skrili? Where are you?”

Skrili gazed up at her silently.

“Okay, I’ll tell you where you are,” Pang decided. “You’re on the ground, begging, wasting your life trying to track me down. You know what makes us so different, Skrili? This picture. You’re pouring all your time and energy into something you’ll never get back, while I’m making something out of myself. I learned not to let my past control me—we promised each other we would. You promised me.”

“Pang, please,” urged Skrili.

“SHUT UP!!!” screamed Pang. “You’re brother’s dead, Skrili!! DEAD!!! He’s gone and he’s never coming back! You’re never gonna see him again! EVER!”

Deon’s heart skipped a beat. What? he thought. He’s dead? But Skrili didn’t say…

Then he remembered Skrili’s words:

“When you mentioned your cousin…he reminded me of my brother.”

Finally, he understood. Now he knew why she had been acting so small since that conversation. Deon had raved about Lammy, and how much he meant to him—just the thought of his loving cousin was enough inspiration to get him back in any fight. Hearing that must have been like tearing open a wound for Skrili. Deon couldn’t even fathom losing Lammy. He would feel like he’d lost himself—like he failed to protect what mattered most to him—so he could hardly imagine the heartache Skrili was feeling.

This whole time, she had been carrying that weight of her five-year-old brother’s death. She had been hiding that torment from Deon and trying to seem strong.

And all she wanted was to see her brother’s smile again.

But Pang raged on. “This picture can’t replace your brother, Skrili. Akri isn’t gonna crawl out of here and give you a big hug.”

Skrili had begun to cry quietly. Tears rolled down her cheeks and onto the ground.

Why is Pang doing this?! Deon wondered angrily.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this,” said Pang, “but I’m trying to help you. You’ll never feel better if you can’t adapt to change. You’re wasting your time on all your feelings, but all they do is eat away at you until there’s nothing left.”

Shut up, Pang…thought Deon.

“I went through hell too, but I got past it, didn’t I?” Pang explained. “I lost my family too, but here I am, right? So why can’t you move on? Why can’t you be like me? Huh? Why does it have to be on your mind all the time?!”

Now she was shouting.

“Why do you always have to see him in your dreams at night?! Why do you still think you hear his voice?! When will it go away?! Why does this still hurt so much?! WHEN WILL IT STOP HURTING?!?!”

Skrili’s tears intensified into sobs.

Pang took an abrupt step away, and Deon caught a glimpse of her face. Her mouth was trembling.

She held back for a moment, and after seeming to have regained her composure, returned to Skrili. Pang sighed, and dropped the picture. It drifted to the ground, just outside of Skrili’s reach.

“Now,” started Pang, “I know you have it in you. Do you want to stay worthless and cry over a dumb picture for the rest of your life, or do you want to be somebody? Do you want to be nothing, or the fighter I know you are?”

Skrili hesitated. She looked up at Pang, and then at the picture. With a push, Skrili reached her hand out to the picture and grabbed it. She hurriedly crawled to her knees and beheld it in both of her hands, like a homeless woman scurrying for food.

Pang snatched the picture from her hands.

“You still don’t get it!” she yelled.

Skrili remained in the same position—she stared into her hands as if the picture was still there. “No…” she murmured breathily.

“Fine!” shouted Pang. “If this is the only way you’ll understand…”

She lifted her other hand to the picture…

…and tore it in half.

“No…” Skrili repeated, her tears intensifying.

Pang continued to rip the photo into smaller pieces.

“No…no…no…”

After several more rips, Pang tossed the picture’s remains into the air. The shreds fell all around Skrili like snowflakes.

Skrili’s face went pale and her tears ceased. She still didn’t move, staring at her empty hands.

Pang…you piece of garbage…Deon raged in his mind. He immediately started brainstorming Imagining attacks.

“I just did you a favor,” Pang told Skrili. “Maybe now you’ll learn how to—”

Skrili swayed forward, and then collapsed in a faint.

Deon’s eyes widened, but then a thought eased his mind: She must have just drained all her energy from a Power Rebound. He felt oddly relieved: at the very least, now Pang couldn’t keep torturing her with words.

But the harm was already done, and Deon felt like he could explode from anger.

Pang watched Skrili quietly. “I wish you didn’t disgust me,” she uttered, hardly loud enough for Deon to hear.

She turned casually to Deon. “Well she’s out cold, and you’re trapped up there. This has been real nice and all, but I think that’s the fight.”

“Shut it, you heaping sack of pig crap,” Deon spat.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m tired of watching Skrili listen to your stupid lies!” Deon shouted.

“Lies?” Pang gasped melodramatically, bringing a hand to her mouth. “Oh dear! You think of me as a liar, Deon? I’m heartbroken!”

“Seriously, shut up,” commanded Deon. “I can’t stand you. You push Skrili around like she’s your pet. You know what? Whenever she’s not around you, she’s one of the most intimidating people I know. But then you show up and she changes. I don’t know what makes her so scared of you. You’re just an annoying little punk who drags Phillip around to help you steal money and pick on people weaker than you.”

“Goodness!” Pang exclaimed. “Now I’m a liar, a thief and a bully? Your words are so hurtful! How will we ever make this work?”

“THIS IS NOT A GAME!!!” Deon screamed. That was it—he had to get out of this trap.

He looked at the oversized hand encompassing him. These are my powers, he told himself, mentally demanding the hand to open. Its fingers moved slightly, but he could tell Pang was resisting him because they barely budged.

The hand fought with itself, but eventually gave way to Deon’s command and opened up. Deon dropped to the ground and landed soundly on both feet. The hand disappeared above him.

Pang crossed her arms. “Look at you, Skrili’s starry-eyed lover,” she mocked. “Here’s some advice for you, too: ditch Skrili if you want to get any better. At this rate, she’s just about as well off as her brother.”

Enraged, Deon imagined six spinning wooden rod attacks around Pang. He shot them all at her, but as soon as they neared her, they vanished. Pang didn’t blink.

Crap…Deon thought. Be smarter…she senses and can control everything I make. This time, he imagined several wooden rods, along with several giant shoe attacks and leather balls. They added up to twenty-five attacks total.

He sent all of the projectiles at Pang, but at slightly different times to make it harder for her to track each of them. Nonetheless, when each of them got close to her, they vanished individually.

Pang smiled. “You don’t have a very wide variety of attacks, do you?” she observed tranquilly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’ve faced plenty of Imaginers and never lost. Nothing you can do will surprise me.”

“Then I won’t imagine!” decided Deon. He started running towards Pang.

Suddenly, Deon vaguely sensed his imagining create something behind him. He turned to see another giant hand racing towards his back. Alarmed, Deon quickly imagined it away.

Quit stealing my powers! he thought.

Pang didn’t seem concerned by her failed attack. “Hey handsome,” she greeted when Deon closed in.

He swung a punch, which almost flew right above Pang’s head—their drastic difference in height threw off his aim, so Pang easily deflected it. Deon swung another, to the same result. Then he broke out into a fury of punches and kicks as fast as he possibly could. But Pang blocked all of them effortlessly, with a smile on her face.

Pang laughed like she was being tickled. “Gosh, you’re so slow!” she told him. She slapped him across the face and laughed again.

Deon blushed, feeling foolish, and continued to attack.

Another slap came, followed by more careless laughter. “Oops!” Pang exclaimed jestingly. “Okay, enough silliness.”

Faster than Deon could even see, she lifted her knee and crashed it into Deon’s leg. Immediately after came three lightning-fast punches to his stomach, another two to his face, and an enormous jump-kick right into his chest.

This was all over the course of a second.

Deon shot backwards, falling hard onto the ground. After a moment, all of the pain from Pang’s rapid attacks shot through him at once. He didn’t realize how hard she actually hit him in that brief instant until now—everything stung and his head began to throb. He let out a shout, not daring to get up.

“Too easy…” Pang sighed.

I…don’t stand a single chance…Deon realized.

Looking to his left, he noticed that he landed beside Skrili. She was still unconscious, but her face was relaxed and she seemed at ease for once. After the hell Pang put her through, Deon felt she deserved the rest. It tempted him with thoughts of just admitting defeat, and lying still.

Maybe I’ll just…stay down, he told himself. That’s fine, right? It’s not like Skrili thought I’d be able to take Pang, anyway. And it’s better to give up now than get my butt handed to me. Plus, she’ll just keep mocking me and making me feel stupid.

So…

…I’ll just…

…lie here.

Then he realized what he was thinking.

NO! I’m sick of this! I’m sick of Pang! No one’s ever brought me to the point of wanting to quit! he thought. I can’t wrap my head around it! I beat that old Imaginer thug, I could’ve beaten that Fullmetal guy, heck—I even beat Skrili once! Not to mention Phillip! But I go up against Pang for two seconds and she makes me feel like I have no idea what I’m doing…like I’m wasting my time out here!

How am I supposed to beat her?! I can’t touch her with Imagining, and her hand-to-hand fighting is ridiculous! She’s…she’s…

She’s unbeatable.

Deon knew it was true. He couldn’t reason his way around it, and he was at a loss for ways to overcome it. Pang hadn’t beaten him yet, but the concept of her ability alone had already defeated him.

He felt an ugly, uncontrollable anger forming inside him.

Why does this girl get to be so much stronger than me?! It’s not fair!!

She gets away with stealing…

His breathing started speeding up.

…She gets away with cheating…

His eyes widened as he clawed into the dirt.

…She keeps bullying Skrili!

His muscles all flexed on their own, and all his pain vanished.

And she makes me FEEL LIKE AN IDIOT!!!!!

Deon felt like his entire body was about to explode into flames.

“What, are you about to cry, too? So you’re done already?” asked Pang, disappointed. “That was boring. I thought I saw something special in you…but I guess not.”

The anger in Deon came alive. It became part of his mind—no, it became his mind. Ferocity occupied all of his thoughts, and he liked it. His face reddened with rage and his vision blurred—he felt like he was entering a dream state. Deon’s heavy breathing intensified into to low growls, with only one thought on his mind:

Pang.

Deon stood up, but the adrenaline coursing through him cancelled out the exertion of energy and the feeling of his feet on the ground. All he saw clearly was Pang, who stood just in front of him.

She still looked calm, but with a hint of concern. “Oh…you’re not done yet,” she said strangely.

Deon frowned at her. He swung a powerful punch, which she expectedly blocked. But at the same instant, he imagined a shoe attack into existence behind her upper back. She didn’t have time to avoid this as well, so it pounded into her hard. Pang stumbled forward, towards Deon.

Deon kneed Pang in the stomach. As she coughed painfully and keeled forward, he caught her in his hands and lifted her off the ground—she felt unnaturally light. Deon effortlessly lifted her over his head, took a step, and with a thrust, slammed her onto the ground.

Pang lay flat, moving slowly and breathing chokingly. “Ow…you’re playing awfully rough now…” she coughed.

Giving her no reprieve, Deon imagined vines to life, which grabbed Pang by the wrist and tugged her back to her feet. The instant she clumsily gained her footing, Deon fired another punch at her face. Pang rushed to stop it and was successful, but then a large leather ball swooped from the side and banged into her shoulder. Pang stumbled sideways, staying on her feet. Directly after, another came from the other side and gave the same damage. Then they vanished.

Deon had imagined these two attacks while the vines were still yanking Pang to her feet, so she was too distracted with the immediate situation to manipulate them all away. Somehow, his imagining abilities had heightened.

Now Pang gazed up at Deon with large eyes. Her concern had evolved into confusion—perhaps even fear.

“You’re not smiling anymore, are you?” Deon asked her sinisterly.

Pang shook her head, taking a step away. “What’s…what’s wrong with your…? Why are your eyes glow—”

Deon didn’t let her finish. He imagined a giant shoe attack darting down from above, towards Pang’s head. Pang evidently sensed it, because it vanished right before making contact.

Almost had her, Deon thought energetically. He found himself smiling, despite his utter fury—or rather, because of it. His mind raced faster than he thought it ever could. It had evolved into the perfect environment for limitless Imagining.

“It’s over now, Pang,” he announced. “Say ‘goodnight.’”

Several leather ball attacks zoomed at Pang rapidly. She imagined away many of them, but a few still remained and crashed into her. While she was still recoiling from the collisions, Deon imagined more leather balls—a swarm of them. His imagination and focus were completely connected. There was no interference; his mind had never felt so clear and open.

Meanwhile, Pang was getting pounded with leather balls from all directions. She could no longer keep track of the attacks—he had overloaded her.

“You’re all about fun, right Pang?” said Deon. “Let’s make this a bit more fun.”

He didn’t know how he was able to do this, but Deon focused on Pang while continuing the endless swarm of leather balls, and caused her to levitate off the ground. He had never been able to attempt anything this advanced before, but somehow, he could just do it—and he knew he could. Deon mentally raised her higher and higher until she was above the surrounding treetops. All the while, the leather balls kept coming.

Yeah that’s right, Pang. How does that feel? Deon thought as his bloodthirstiness peaked. He wanted her up on display, getting wrecked by the opponent she was mocking only moments ago. He wanted to humiliate her. To hurt her.

Pang attempted to protect herself from the merciless attacks as she remained suspended in the air, but there were far too many for her to keep track of. They kept hitting her, often directly.

Deon paid no attention to Pang’s plight. Yeah…yeah…eat it all up, Pang! Who’s the loser now?! Want me to keep going?! Fine, maybe I’ll just kill—

Suddenly, he blinked several times. The odd heat in his face cooled and his vision cleared. It was like waking up from an odd dream. He felt his muscles relax back to normal, and his heavy breathing slowed.

With this, his rage vanished.

Now that Deon saw Pang with a sober mind, he realized she wasn’t even responding to the ongoing attacks anymore. Panicked, Deon instantly removed all the leather balls from existence.

Pang floated in place, completely limp.

Oh no…what just happened? worried Deon. He still had no idea how he made Pang float, but he was glad he was still in control of this technique. Commanding his imagining, Deon lowered her slowly. When she had descended close enough to the ground, Deon gently laid her on her back with his mind. She didn’t move.

Deon blinked again, and now the adrenaline had completely vanished, replaced by a panicked heartbeat. He hurried over to Pang.

She lay sprawled out. Her eyes were closed and her mouth hung open slightly, like she had been surprised. Deon noticed a dark purple ring forming around her eye, and some bleeding cuts on various spots of her skin.

What…did I do…? Deon wondered. I really gave her a beating…why didn’t I stop myself sooner?

With Pang’s seemingly all-knowing, self-confident, golden eyes now closed, she seemed less like a god and more like what she truly was: a small, sixteen-year old girl. For once Deon didn’t see her as an otherworldly, untouchable fighter. She was a normal girl.

And the realization that he caused her current condition made him feel like a monster.