Death Guns In Another World

Two days had passed since Alex had managed to land his very first hit on Nyx.

Just one cut. Just a thin crimson line across her cheek. But to him, that single mark was more valuable than any medal. It meant he could reach her — even if just for a heartbeat.

He had spent those two days recovering in the real world. Sleeping. Eating. His super regenerative ability healed everything already. Even so, his body still carried faint bruises — reminders of her overwhelming skill. He strengthened himself using mana.

Now, he was ready.

⸻

The familiar darkness swallowed him as he stepped into Nyx’s inner world.

Gravity pressed down on his shoulders like a mountain the instant he arrived. The air was thick, heavy, charged with an oppressive energy that seeped into his bones. Black monoliths jutted from the endless platform, their surfaces reflecting faint ripples of light from no clear source.

And there she was.

Nyx stood in the distance, the throne looming far behind her. Her long black hair floated ever so slightly, as though underwater, and her eyes glimmered with that same distant, unshakable calm. In her hand, the same midnight sword — a blade so black it seemed to drink in light — rested casually at her side.

No words passed between them.

Alex’s breathing slowed. His hand reached into his item ring, pulling free his own sword. It gleamed silver under the faint ambient light, already carrying faint scratches from their last duel.

This time, he thought, I’ll push her. I’ll make her fight me seriously.

Nyx tilted her head slightly, as if acknowledging his resolve.

And then—

They moved.

Alex dashed forward, body lowering into a runner’s stance before exploding upward. The platform beneath his feet cracked from the force. He swung, aiming at Nyx’s neck.

Clang!

Her blade intercepted effortlessly, but Alex was already gone, twisting into a spinning kick aimed at her ribs. She blocked with the flat of her sword, sending a shockwave that made nearby monoliths groan and fracture.

Alex used the rebound to launch himself upward, spinning mid-air, bringing his sword down in an overhead slash. Nyx raised her blade, parried, and twisted her wrist — trying to disarm him.

Alex let go of the sword with one hand, grabbing her wrist with his free hand and kicking off her shoulder to flip backwards, reclaiming his stance.

They paused for a breath.

Then both vanished again.

Nyx’s strikes this time were faster. Too fast. The black sword cut through the air in arcs so clean they barely made a sound. Alex parried where he could, dodged when he had to, but each blow rattled his bones.

A downward slash — Alex sidestepped.

A thrust — he twisted, the blade grazing his cheek.

A horizontal cut — he ducked under it and countered with a rising slash.

Nyx stepped back just enough for the edge to miss her chin by a hair’s breadth.

Her expression didn’t change. But Alex felt it — her pace was increasing.

He pumped mana into his legs and arms. White-blue arcs of energy crackled around him. The crushing gravity threatened to slow him, but he fought through it, his body adjusting to the weight.

When Nyx swung again, he didn’t block. He caught the blade on his own, dragging it aside and stepping into her guard. His knee shot up toward her ribs.

Her free hand caught his knee mid-strike.

Impossible!

Before he could react, she spun, hurling him across the battlefield. He slammed into a monolith with bone-jarring force, the impact sending a spiderweb of cracks racing up its surface.

Alex’s breathing was ragged, but his eyes burned brighter than ever.

He switched weapons — the spear now in his hands. With its reach, he could control distance and force her to move differently.

“Let’s go,” he growled.

Nyx lifted her sword slightly in acknowledgment.

Alex dashed in, thrusting in a rapid series of jabs, each infused with mana. The air trembled around the spear’s tip, small bursts of shockwave marking every strike. Nyx weaved between them with almost casual precision, the sword flashing to deflect those she couldn’t avoid.

Seeing no opening, Alex spun the spear in a wide arc, the wind pressure alone splitting the ground beneath them. Nyx stepped on the shaft mid-spin, using it as a platform to leap above him.

Got you!

Alex dropped the spear and drew his bow mid-motion, loosing three mana arrows straight up. They streaked like comets toward her.

She twisted in midair, deflecting two — but the third grazed her shoulder, tearing a faint line in her outfit.

She landed soundlessly, glancing at the small tear.

“Second hit,” Alex said with a grin.

Nyx’s expression remained unreadable — but she took a step forward, and the air around them grew heavier.

Alex staggered under the sudden surge in gravity. It was at least double what it had been before. His knees bent involuntarily, muscles screaming. Even breathing was difficult.

Nyx, on the other hand, moved as though the weight meant nothing.

Her next attack came like a lightning strike — a thrust that nearly pierced his shoulder. Alex deflected at the last second, but the sheer force sent him sliding backward, leaving twin trenches in the stone beneath his feet.

She pressed forward, her sword a blur. Each strike carried more weight than before, forcing Alex into a purely defensive stance.

His arms trembled with every parry. His vision blurred from the strain. And yet—his mind was sharper than ever. He began to see patterns in her attacks, tiny shifts in her footwork, micro-adjustments in her wrist.

She’s not invincible, he reminded himself. There’s a rhythm… I just have to break it.

He feigned a stumble — letting her think his guard was breaking.

Nyx’s next swing came in high. Alex blocked sloppily on purpose, letting her blade push his down.

Then he twisted, slamming the hilt of his weapon toward her side.

She sidestepped — just as he predicted.

His left hand flashed — a dagger appeared, slashing upward toward her jaw.

Nyx leaned back, barely avoiding it — but Alex saw it.

A flicker.

For the first time, her expression had changed — the faintest hint of surprise.

He pressed the attack, alternating between sword and dagger, keeping her off rhythm. Each strike came from unpredictable angles, forcing her to adapt.

And then —

He landed the dagger’s edge across her left forearm. A thin line of red appeared.

“Third hit,” Alex said between breaths.

Nyx didn’t hesitate.

In the blink of an eye, the gravity quintupled. Alex collapsed to one knee, every bone and muscle straining against the weight. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. The platform beneath him cracked under the sudden pressure.

And Nyx… moved faster than he’d ever seen her.

Her blade was everywhere — above, behind, in front — the sound of steel ringing in the darkness as she rained down blow after blow. Alex parried desperately, sparks flying with each clash.

His vision narrowed. The world became only the two of them — no throne, no monoliths, just the endless dance of blades under crushing force.

Finally, her sword slipped past his guard, stopping just a breath away from his throat.

They froze.

Alex’s chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat and blood mingling down his face.

“…You win,” he breathed.

Nyx lowered her blade, stepping back. The gravity around them eased until it returned to its original weight.

Alex collapsed to the ground, panting. His arms felt like lead, but a smile tugged at his lips.

“Three hits,” he murmured. “Next time… it’ll be more.”

Nyx turned, walking back toward her throne. She didn’t look back — but her pace was slower, almost thoughtful.

Far above, the throne’s dark silhouette seemed to glow faintly in the abyss.