Again and again. Stronghold after stronghold. Deep in a far rainforest, the blue pond sits with tranquility surrounded by a horizon of trees made of rich bark and thick leaves. Music of birds chirping play from the many trees, a rainforest beaming with life without a single concern.

Distant from the pond resides a fortress, its body the same shade of green as the leaves, silently resting without harming the gentle peace of the land. The fortress is partially covered by the series of trees between it and the pond, although two guard towers can be seen from the pond as well as a sliver of the barracks.

While the birds chirp calmly, a light flashes briefly over the fortress, followed by a boom that causes ripples in the water. Several orange orbs of flames appear over the fortress now, expanding as barely audible screams are quickly sunk by a shockwave that passes through the pond, rustling the leaves violently and leaving more ripples in the water. Following the rustling, birds begin rapidly flying off of branches, escaping from the chaos, causing more leaves to rustle as they take to the skies.

Another silver fortress sits on a piece of grassland, although the land is not much larger than the fortress itself as instead it’s a rather petite island, which rests on a stone pedestal over the black night sea. A fierce storm bellows over the forest, as it’s not a calm night, but one with heavy rainfall and flashes of light followed by harsh thunder.

Tides lash around the island, although far too low to reach the fortress, which has guard towers by the edge and the barracks strip besides the core facility. It is a restless night, and one that was about to become far more grueling as another light flashes, although this one situated above the fortress, minor and concentrated with a blue hue.

Down on the ground, a horde of guards dressed in the black jumpsuits and orange branches look up at the figure hovering over their base. They bring their hands up over their eyes to get a better view of what exactly has trespassed, with one of them specifically being an aged man with a scar on his cheek.

It isn’t clear what exactly is up there, but there’s a piercing sense of anxiety beaming from the figure, as the man understands that whatever it is, it’s dangerous. The man bellows with a roaring voice, “FIRE!”

All at once, a multitude of guards raise their hands up towards the figure, some of them roaring in response. Lights begin flashing amongst the crowd, and suddenly a flurry of objects are hurtled from the guards at the figure. Balls of pure flame, concentrated beams of ice, wooden logs, and other random projectiles soar up all at one single target.

As the barrage approaches the figure, whose arms are crossed over its chest, it thrashes its arms out, releasing another black sphere. As the orb grows and consumes, concealing the figure within, all the projectiles are swept into the nothingness.

Standing on the ground, all of the guards stand in place, not given enough time to react. Amongst the ground, the scarred man stands, his right arm raised with an open wound in his palm, with a stream of blood soaring out of his hand and up towards where the figure stood, illuminating supernaturally.

Ultimately the resistance is futile, as the wave devours the surrounding guards, including the scarred man who did his best to save his comrades.

Set in a far remote region, a group of individuals dressed in a variation of the fiber woven suit, albeit this one green with the veiny texture of leaves, runs down a silver metal hallway, their clanky footsteps echoing down the hall. For each of them, one of their hands carries a firearm in the same manner as their desert comrades, although all of these firearms are shorter and slimmer, appropriate for the close quarters environment. In the distance up ahead is a collection of shouting and the pinched whooshes of blasterfire, which the group is running right towards.

They make a turn and run down another hallway, although this one is not empty, as foremost there are several bodies laying down dressed in the same green suits, unresponsive. Up ahead the screaming is clearer now, as well as the blaster fire with orange flashes flickering down the white hallway.

A few of the individuals running in the center halt and drop their right knee before raising their firearms, and immediately begin firing orange bolts forward while shouting as their comrades continue forth before finding a spot to kneel and also throw fire.

Across from them are other guards with the same uniforms, as there seems to be an intersecting hallway that more fighters are coming from. Beyond them marches the man in the mask, who receives the orange fire without a stagger, finding no concern over the barrage being dealt to him.

Instead, he moves each of his hands, each in his projectile launching gesture with the two fingers out and other two curled. Composed, he aims his hands at the various guards, firing blue bolts at them which push them to collapse on the floor with ease. His pace remains unaffected as he approaches the intersection, simply dealing with any obstacles.

One of the reinforcements, also concealed in the mask that parallels a human face, pauses his fire to loudly address, “Hal, can you alert higher command?! This would be a good opportunity to catch this guy!”

Beside him is another one of the fighters who ran down the hallway, who then also halts his fire to answer. He keeps his eyes on the target, but shouts back, “Can’t, my communications are down! I don’t even know when it happened! I swear it was fine a couple hours ago!”

The reinforcement who posed the question sighs in dread before apprehensively concluding, “Guess we’re on our own,” before resuming fire.

That isn’t enough however, as the Tempest reaches the intersection. He aims each hand at a guard and fires before turning around, and beginning to continue down the next hall.

The two reinforcements who had spoken to each other continue firing on the Tempest as well as another set of guards behind them who must’ve joined in. As the Tempest disinterestedly marches down the hall, the right side of his body flashes blue.

A barrage of blue bolts fly out of the side of the Tempest, all of them smiting the remaining defenses in the hall, who all collapse simultaneously.

Marching down the final hall, the Tempest approaches another handful of guards constantly shooting at him. As before, he takes his time to aim and fire down each of them, however one stands up and begins a hasty retreat towards the doorway at the end of the hall, which leads into a larger dimly lit room with shelves and tables.

The cowardly guard runs into the armory before slamming the wall beside the doorway, to which a gray door materializes over the doorway, obstructing it. He then turns around and runs deeper into the armory, which is filled with countless other guards, hiding behind tables and racks for cover.

One of the guards already in the room yells to the runaway guard, “Why are you back here?”

The runaway guard shakes his head and continues making his way deeper into the armory while shakely explaining, “I-I…none of our weapons are doing anything to hi-him…it’s useless…. I didn’t sign up for this…,” before he continues to drag himself away from the door.

The shouting and gunfire continues behind the door, muffled but audible, as all of the guards wait fearfully behind their cover. While waiting, two of the guards stand up and turn to one another before nodding, and they tiptoe towards the door. They each stand several feet beside it, and lower their free hands as though preparing a toss. On each of their hands, a silver disk suddenly materializes from a blue light with a glowing green dot on the top.

All the shouting and gunfire are cut, as the loud ruckus silences. For a few seconds there’s total silence, as all of the guards stay in their position: the ones behind cover, the ones beside the door, and the runaway who cowers behind a group of silver crates, each with a single line of black text on them that reads “VOLATILE.” All their masks conceal any facial expressions, and yet at the same time, their thoughts shed out of their skin for anyone to see.

The gray door cracks with an open split down the middle, with both sides curled outwards like open flaps. From behind the door steps in the Tempest, his right hand gripping the face of one of the guards. He steps into the armory before tossing the guard’s body forwards, which limply knocks on the floor and slides.

Without a second to sweat, both of the guards beside the door throw a disk by the Tempest’s feet. Each of the disks stick to the ground, and their green dots become red before releasing a translucent purplish blue construct that resembles a wrapper, which coils around the Tempest’s ankles while emitting a magnetic hum.

Unbeknownst to the strike, the Tempest attempts to step forward, however the coils pull him back, causing him to fall on his knees. He instinctively grabs the floor to pad his fall from the unexpected strike, only for the two guards to summon another disk which they toss by his hands, which releases more coils which hold down his wrist.

The Tempest growls in irritation from the swift entrapment as he glances at the two guards that held him down. Both of them then aim their rifles and unleash rapid fire onto his body, shooting a flurry of orange bolts at him, none of which seem to affect him.

Desperate to hinder the intruder, the guard on the right approaches the Tempest, and slams his firearm into the intruder’s face, to which the Tempest releases a pained grunt.

Astounded by the unexpected reaction, the guard turns towards the armory where the other guards are before victoriously announcing, “Physical attacks damage him! I repeat, physical atta-,” before his body is then violently shoved off the ground and into the corner of the ceiling by a blue wave that was released from the Tempest’s shoulder.

Taking the final advice given by their bested comrade, the other guard by the door charges at the Tempest, raising their armed arm up in the air, and then swinging it down onto the Tempest’s back.

Being struck in the back by the metal device, the Tempest groans again, presently able to feel the attacks dealt to him. He lowers his head, to which the guard raises his arm again, preparing for another slam.

An intense blitz of translucent blue spines project off the Tempest’s back, several of which penetrate the guard. The guard’s arm lowers, although now gently, his entire body covered in spikes. The spines retract into the Tempest’s body, releasing the guard, who collapses to the floor.

However, the information has been received by all other guards, as a crowd of guards step up from behind their cover, knowing what had to be done. The Tempest raises his head, realizing exactly what their plan is.

A horde of guards begin charging at the Tempest, raising their arms to exercise blunt damage. Knowing that combating such a crowd restrained isn’t ideal, the Tempest lowers his head and ponders an escape hastily, with every second being a loss.

An idea comes to mind in only a little over a second, and his body begins radiating an azureus glow, although rather than brief flashes it’s a constant emission. The glow becomes more intense as it illuminates more of the room, initially causing the guards to stop in caution, watching the Tempest’s seemingly inexplicable actions.

There is an explanation for them however, as the immense generation of energy he produces begins to cause the magnetic coils to fluctuate, as the red dots begin flickering. By invading the magnetic field with an overwhelming source, he begins manipulating the field and discharging the devices emitting them.

A few of the guards notice the disarmament, to which they shout, “Get him!” before resuming their charge. Several other guards who had halted previously also follow while some others remain uneasy, and instead begin backtracking.

Radiating more with intensifying energy, the Tempest groans as he watches the horde of guards charge at him. The magnetic coils flicker more rapidly. The guards get closer and raise their weapons. The red dot on the disks flash more prominently. The guards shout as they charge at the Tempest, and throw their arms. The magnetic coils vanish. Several guards swing their weapons, but as they make their swing, their movements slow down exponentially relative to the perception of their target, who raises their head before any of them make another inch.

The very next second, all of the guards who charged at the Tempest collapse on the floor, and in front of them stands the Tempest with a trail of blue energy that had moved back and forth behind his current position slowly dissipates.

The remaining guards shout as they charge at the Tempest, their hearts racing as landing a strike had just become infinitely more difficult. One of the guards holds his free hand out, summoning another disk. He prepares to throw it, but a blue cable attaches to it first, coming from the target.

The guard raises his head, trailing the cable to the right hand of the Tempest, who jerks his arm back which throws the disk out of the guard’s hand and against the back wall.

Instilled with haste, the Tempest projects another cable onto the guard’s face before jerking it back, pulling the guard forward which slams him on the ground. He then turns towards another guard before swinging his own hand, which projects a long translucent blue blade that slashes through the guard while a blue bolt fires off his ankle at the fallen guard, defeating both as the slashed one collapses.

A curved wall of energy projects from the Tempest’s chest, which receives a swing from one of the guards, but the wall absorbs it thus leaving the Tempest protected. At the same time, a cable extends off his hand, although this one more flexible and wavy, as it coils around the abdomen of a different guard. The cable then picks up the guard before violently throwing him into the guard who swung at the wall, causing the both to knock each other.

The Tempest marches past the bodies as two bolts are fired off his back into each of the two guards, guaranteeing their defeat.

The final remaining four guards all throw disks down at the floor, forming a square around the Tempest. All of them project magnetic coils, two on the Tempest’s ankles, and two on his wrists once again. They continue throwing more disks however, desperately attempting to restrain him, as more disks hold down his elbows and knees, locking him in place.

The four then begin bashing him with their weapons, knocking him in place as he groans in pain, unable to move. He raises his head, to which he notices the set of crates with the “VOLATILE” label. He growls through his teeth as he constantly receives strike after strike, but has an escape.

Earnest over the Tempest’s gaze, the guard cowering behind the crates stands up and bends forward, looking over the crate in front of him.

A blue bolt is shot out from the Tempest’s forehead, and straight into the crate in front of him. The cowered guard raises his head back to look at the Tempest.

All the crates immediately explode, projecting a fiery wave that quickly consumes the room. The four guards turn around to witness the explosion and stagger back in fear as the Tempest stares straight at it, restrained. As the fiery wave approaches the five, the Tempest’s body flashes blue, vanishing once again, leaving the magnetic coils behind. The four guards turn around and sprint from the blast, which devours the room.

Relentless, the Tempest invades stronghold after stronghold, decimating it in orange and black explosions. Every hour of the night, more fortresses fall. As the night progresses, more bases are dismantled. Nonstop. Every exit is another entrance. Every second of the night is spent in pursuit. Time is finite, and every last second had to be squeezed. Compared to the blaze of the Tempest’s determination, the flames of the ruined strongholds run cold.

Cold as the blizzard that rages in the white mountains, battered by the constant fierce snowfall. The roaring winds brush the mountains walling in the valley, where a stronghold lays. The walls are white, but not from intended camouflage, rather the effects of an unforgiving environment that seeks to dominate all in its grasp.

Outside of the core facility, a legion of individuals stand in the black uniforms with orange branches, bearing the frost all of their attention lay on one entity ahead of them, above their main facility: the figure of the Tempest.

Like the many other outposts of the Gen S where guards outside the facilities noticed the intruder right before the ignition, these guards watched the Tempest levitate above their base, his arms extended by his side, prepared to put an end to the final destination.

Azureus blazes emit from the Tempest’s goggles, his body beaten and toiled over the course of the long night, but he is finally close to reaching the end. He begins to pull his arms towards his chest, ready to complete the operation with one swift movement of the arms.

On the ground, one of the guards steps forward towards the facility, and aims their hand at the figure. He then shouts, “It’s him!” before his arm begins extending farther than what would be natural, seemingly limitless as his arm extends ten feet in an instant and continuing.

Just before the Tempest can throw his arms, a hand extending from what was thought to be nowhere grabs onto the Tempest’s arm, causing him to raise his head in bewilderment. His body is then abruptly yanked down, his arm being forcefully extended without managing to make the detonation.

The guard who stuck his hand out reels his arm in freakishly as though it was a cable, dragging the Tempest down. He pulls as hard as he can, gritting his teeth as he stares straight at the intruder through scruffy hair.

Reacting to the grab, the Tempest’s body flashes blue, which causes the Exhuman’s hand to let go instinctively from an implied jolt of pain. Being freed from the man’s grip, the Tempest extends his arms out again, about to repeat the process in the air.

Another guard steps forward, who has green vines wrapped around her arms. She aims both of her hands at the Tempest, to which the tip of both vins suddenly begin moving, soaring towards the intruder as they dance in the air.

Each vine wraps around one of the Tempest’s arms, constricting his movement before then further pulling him down. The vines slam him into the thick snow before then violently thrashing in the air as though in deep agony. Both of them retract back around the woman’s arms, allowing the Tempest to stand, both of whom’s arms have numerous translucent blue energy spikes extended.

Lowering his arms, all of the spikes are waived from the Tempest. He then extends both of his arms out, his priorities still stubbornly set to executing the blast.

A different man leans forward and pushes his leg back, as though preparing to run. Another man then suddenly appears in his position, running forward in a sprint, as though coming out of the man. That other man however has the exact same body and face as the one who made the stance, appearing to be a duplication, a clone.

In fact, more clones begin manifesting from the man, all initially in the running position, allowing them to seamlessly charge at the Tempest. All in a few seconds, countless clones charge at the Tempest, all originating from a single source.

Right as the Tempest brings his arms towards his chest, he’s immediately tackled by several of the clones as they all dogpile on him. A horde of clones all leap onto the pile like mindless drones without a care for their own body, quickly enlarging the pile as more leap on.

Rays of blue light begin to seep through the minor apertures between the clones, appearing rapidly as a whooshing hum resonates from the foundation of the dogpile. Suddenly, an explosive burst of blue energy launches all of the clones high into the air.

Freed now, the Tempest pushes himself back up to his feet, padding his jacket as the snow dissolves off his body. Obstinate to make the move, the Tempest extends both of his arms out to cross them.

This time, another guard points his finger at the Tempest, to which rusted chains suddenly burst out of the snow, flying straight at the quarry. The rusted chains wrap around the Tempest’s arms, causing him to groan in annoyance.

Joining him, a different guard kneels down and places both of her hands on the snowy ground, causing the snow around her to begin vibrating. A trail of snow begins vibrating from her to the Tempest, resulting in the snow below his feet to start vibrating. His feet then begin sinking into the snow more than previously as though it were quicksand, further restraining him.

While the two guards hold the Tempest down, another one steps forward, loosening his hands which he holds out in front of him. He loudly commands, “Don’t let him leave here alive!” before spikes begin emerging all around his body, made of what looks like bone, with two long bones coming from the bottom of his wrists. He then charges at the Tempest while he’s restrained.

Other guards take action, charging all at the Tempest at once, taking this chance to put an end to the living myth.

The commanding Exhuman begins slashing at the Tempest with the bony spikes under his wrist, although it doesn’t seem to make an effect. He still continues making slashes with grunts, trying to find the threshold to surpassing the intruder’s invisible armor.

From behind the Tempest, another Exhuman turns his arms around and aims his sleeves at the intruder. Cards begin flying out from the Exhuman’s wrist like magic, sending a volley for the Tempest’s back at piercing speeds. However, all of the cards bounce off of the Tempest’s body, failing to cause any harm.

From the right side, a different Exhuman leaps at the Tempest, holding out her right hand. Her fingernails begin growing at inhumanely rapid rates, reaching to the length of dagger blades. She throws her arm forwards to stab the Tempest with her nails, which make an impact, but don’t immediately pierce his body.

She pushes her nails deeper to persist, growling as she pushes all her energy into penetrating the enemy’s skin, or at least his clothing, but instead it feels as though an invisible net is holding her back. She holds her left hand up, growing her nails to the same dagger length before trying to plunge them into the Tempest’s body again, but once more to no avail.

On the Tempest’s left side, a guard sprints towards the chaos, his right hand in a tight fist. He then leaps forward, curling his arm back, and letting out a bellow as he throws his fist forwards. As his arm is extended for the punch, his skin begins hardening as the texture of his skin morphs into a resemblance of stone.

The hardening process continues up his entire arm right as his fist makes contact with the Tempest’s breast, which causes his body to stagger backwards and for him to gasp from an overwhelming agony.

That exact strike returns the Tempest to his body as a waking call. He glances at the two restraining him, the man pointing at him which controls the chains, and the woman pressing the ground which controls the vibration. His gaze remains on both of them as he struggles to move his arms, but to no avail, as they’re tightly coiled by the chains.

However, the man notices that his hand nor wrist is restrained, leading him to an idea. He makes the projectile gesture with each of his hands and rotates his wrists up before turning it, subtly aiming one at the man pointing at him and another at the woman.

Realizing that his own strikes seem to cause a reaction, the man hardens his left fist to stone while reversing the effects on his right arm, reverting it to his natural skin texture. He coils his arm back, ready to throw another punch.

Needing to act efficiently, the Tempest fires a black bolt from both hands, and each of them lands on target. The bodies of both Exhumans flash black, and the two collapse on the snow promptly.

The chains crumble apart and fall on the ground before dissolving, and the snow between the woman and the Tempest stops vibrating.

Right as the hardened fist of the other Exhuman strikes the Tempest, he dashes forward in a short blue trail, freeing himself completely. He spins around and aims his left hand at the Exhuman who just threw his punch as well as the one with elongated nails, and fires black bolts at them.

The Exhuman who failed to throw the punch turns towards the Tempest with a shocked expression before both him and the woman get shot. Just a second after, the Exhuman who released the hail of cards as well as the man with bony spikes gets shot.

Behind the Tempest, a horde of Exhumans roar in rage as they charge at him. He then turns around and begins marching towards them slowly, preparing to face the onslaught. He observes an Exhuman whose body spontaneously bursts into flames, although doesn’t seem bothered, but rather empowers himself with it as he aims to punch him with his fist. Rather than punching the body however, he strikes a black wall of projected energy cast in front of the Tempest. Upon contact, his body flashes black and promptly relinquishes the flames before collapsing.

The wall is abandoned, revealing another Exhuman whose hands massively expand like pancakes before she tries to wrap them to ensnare the intruder, to which the Tempest jabs at her direction, which projects a black energy spike from his fist straight into her chest, reverting her hands and causing her to fall to the ground.

Two Exhumans charge at the Tempest from both sides, so the Tempest thrashes both of his hands outwards, which project long whip-like cables that slash all four of them, tripping them on the snow.

Straight fifteen feet in front of the Tempest stands another Exhuman, who steps forward and claps her hands in his direction. The clap releases a powerful blast concentrated straight for the Tempest, who aims his hand at another incoming Exhuman to his right before projecting a black cable which reels the Exhuman straight in front of him, causing his body to flash black while also receiving the blast from the clap.

After strafing to avoid the limp body flying at him, the Tempest aims both hands at Exhumans beside the one who clapped at him, projecting black cables at each of them before then jerking his arms into a cross. Both of the Exhumans flash black before colliding into the woman, causing her to stumble. In that one second, the Tempest races up to her in a blue trail before throwing his fist into her face, which emits a black flare.

A black burst of energy releases from the punch as the Exhuman’s body flashes black as it soars into the snow backwards, and the Tempest spins around upon encountering three more Exhumans who all leap at him, the centermost’s body sparking with electricity seemingly generated from their own hands, with tight coils of pure electricity wrapping around their fingers like boxing wraps. The left guard’s fist exudes a flaming purple glow and the right guard’s fist is larger and disproportionate to the rest of his body while also being redder.

Before any of the three can land a punch, the Tempest throws a punch of his own with his right hand, although too early for it to land physically on any of them. Rather, he also extends his left hand with his palm open facing the three, which generates a flat black barrier several feet in radius. Instead of aiming to punch any of the three guards, he instead strikes his own barrier, which in turn causes it to be pushed forward into all three of them simultaneously, causing all of their bodies to flash and fall past their one target.

Turning again, the Tempest finds himself faced off against another battalion of Exhumans, as there’s seemingly no end. He steps back as long black energy blades extend from his fists, preparing to deal with another wave.

Left among the bodies, one of the Exhumans stands up, groaning from the fatigue of battle. He glances around himself to see a square of bodies, which are surrounded by even more, all covering the pure white snow. His chest unhardens as he raises his gaze to the Tempest, who is swinging at the crowd of Exhumans.

The recovered guard coughs and drags himself towards the fight before bellowing, “Who would’ve known all these lives would be robbed by the mask that once fought to give them freedom?”

After slashing three Exhumans in one motion, the Tempest turns around after hearing the question. He instantly abandons focus on the crowd of superpowered enemies behind him, as the only one standing that he sees is the recovered guard. Even preoccupied by the attackers, he clearly heard the guard. Every word spoken.

Heavy breaths come in and out of the Tempest, distorted from his voice module, resulting in him sounding like a wild beast. He steps forward, both of his fists shut as both of the blades are relinquished. He takes another step forward, hyperventilating, as his mind begins to spiral, beginning to unravel itself to the madness that’s surrounded it from the beginning.

Another step, and the Tempest charges straight at the one guard, swinging his arms back and forth. There is no trail behind him as he runs raw without artificial acceleration, without enhancements, letting his own body push him straight at his one target.

The guard steps back as he watches the Tempest chase right for him. He holds both of his hands up as his entire face hardens to the stone texture, preparing himself defensively.

Taking another step, the Tempest drives his right fist into the guard, illuminating black. The punch causes the guard to stumble and fall backwards, letting the Tempest over his body. However, as the Tempest kneels over the guard’s body, he notices that the guard’s face is still hardened, and that he’s still conscious.

Perplexed, The Tempest pulls his left arm back as his left fist begins radiating black as well, and he throws another punch into the guard’s face. Once again, while the strike has been dealt, the guard’s face remains hardened and breathing. The second confirming strike brought clairvoyance to the apparent failures of his strikes. The hardening ability produced by the guard gave him a resistance to the neutralization, meaning that as long as the guard had enough stamina left, he’d be able to maintain the hardening, and thus remain undefeated. He couldn’t be simply neutralized as the others, he needed to be softened. But that wasn’t a problem.

Kneeling over the Tempest, both of his fists glow blue. If he couldn’t neutralize, then he had to overpower. He pulls his right arm back, and drives his right fist into the guard’s face, which causes some of the snow around them to jump up off the ground as a quake occurs. The guard’s face remains hardened however, so the Tempest curls his left arm back, and slams his left fist into the guard’s face, still unable to soften it. Then he throws his right fist. Then his left fist. Then his right. Then his left. Then right. Then left. Right. Left. Right. Left.

Every punch is faster than the last. Every punch hits harder than the last. Quakes rumble the snowy ground with every punch as the Tempest’s arms soon become a blur as he unrelentingly beats down on the man’s face, glaring into his eyes. He breathes more heavily and rapidly, being overtaken by a feeling that wouldn’t be appropriate for combat: relief.

Every punch is relief. Every punch is satisfaction. Every punch shoves his words deeper and deeper down his throat. Every punch shoves those repeated words down all of their throats. Every punch diminishes a voice. Every punch brings peace.

Enduring the barrage of fists, the guard grits his teeth as the pain gradually becomes more noticeable, but still manageable. That is until a crack splits on his right cheek. Then another crack on his left cheek. Then the cracks begin to expand, with over cracks extending off by his nose, beside his eye, under his mouth. Not only was the guard unable to afford relinquishing the hardening, but he realized he couldn’t even feel the option, as the control he had over it was slipping out of his stone fingers. Slowly, his face was breaking.

Attempting to break up the gruesome beating, two Exhuman launches themselves onto the Tempest, grabbing his upper arms to try dragging him away, but they find themselves unable to pull him off. More cracks form around the guard’s face, disfiguring him nightmarishly.

Another Exhuman dashes beside the Tempest and aims her hand at him, which then flashes frost blue. An icey stream so cold that it emits its own vapor beams onto the Tempest’s right arm, however right before it does, a black spike juts out of the exact spot and penetrates straight through the beam, piercing her hand. His arm then flashes blue, emitting an oppositional heat that negates the cold as the Exhuman’s body flashes black and falls.

More Exhumans crowd the Tempest in retaliation, grabbing him and projecting a cascade including bolts of electricity, thicker spider webs, purple glowing spears, rainbow plasma balls, which the Tempest endures as he persists in his brutal beatdown, causing more cracks to form until the guard’s face is nearly unrecognizable as a human’s.

The Tempest screams intensely as he continues beating the one enemy as two Exhumans plunge blades into his back, one made of an enhanced bony material and another made of some ominous black steel which glows purple, although neither penetrate the body.

Adding to the dogpile, an Exhuman jumps at the Tempest and bites his upper arm with supernaturally sharpened teeth, and another raises their hand, revealing spikes that protrude from his palm and fingers, before then using it to grip the Tempest’s other arm.

More Exhumans jump over the Tempest, a colossal horde greater than the clone, all trying to cover the Tempest in bites, stabs, slashes, bruises, pummels, burns, frostbite, and anything to put him down.

Persistent on beating the one guard, the Tempest roars louder as he exerts all the energy within himself on the one man. Fragments of the stone face begin to sink from the constant beatings, as the guard’s eyes begin closing, struggling in attrition.

Heavy snowfall continues to pour down on the heap of Exhumans as they cover the Tempest’s body, trying to pierce his untouchable skin, trying to move his immovable character.

Blue flames seep through the Tempest’s eyes as he rages louder and harder, his voice echoing throughout the snowy fields as he speaks into the void, projecting all of himself forward as he cracks the shield, drilling deeper into the core, reaching out for something locked and set adrift long ago.

Absolute incarnate, the pile erupts in a megalithic burst of azureus flames, setting ablaze all that could be until all that remains is charred darkness, incinerated silence.