Chapter 185: Chapter 185- Clash
The echo of gunfire rattled through the supply chamber, sharp and deafening against the steel walls. Sparks burst from the floor as bullets ricocheted, the air heavy with the stench of scorched metal.
Belle stood firm, one knee bent, her rifle leveled with precise calm. Her eyes narrowed, focus razor-sharp as the glow of her skill activated.
"[Headshot : Lock]."
The bullet whistled, its trajectory unnaturally shifting mid-air, drawn to its target like a predator scenting blood.
But Nia’s form flickered, gone in a blink. A split-second distortion of space left nothing but afterimages, and the bullet tore harmlessly through smoke. She reappeared at Belle’s flank, eyes burning with challenge, knives glinting in her hands.
"You’ll have to do better than that," Nia taunted, her voice mocking yet strained with exertion.
Belle clicked her tongue, chambering another round in one fluid motion. "Don’t worry. I intend to."
Another shot cracked, then another, the projectiles curving unnaturally, chasing Nia as though Belle’s will alone guided them. Nia’s blinks became faster, sharper, each displacement leaving trails of distorted light as she danced between dimensions.
Gunfire tore through the chamber, bullets whistling as they bent unnaturally midair, chasing Nia like hunting dogs. Belle’s fingers danced on the trigger, every shot a calculated strike, each bullet tethered to her gaze, refusing to miss.
But Nia was a phantom. Her body flickered in and out of existence, space bending every time she blinked. One moment she was at Belle’s side, dagger poised for a killing slash, the next she dissolved into thin air, reappearing behind cover, only for Belle’s bullet to curve around and force her out again.
Metal walls became scarred with burns and punctures, the hum of the power conduits roared in the background, their glow painting the battlefield in a ghostly light.
Belle exhaled sharply, adjusting her scope. Predict the rhythm... wait for her to blink—
Nia appeared overhead, dropping down like a hawk. Belle snapped her rifle up, firing point-blank. The bullet curved upward, but Nia twisted midair, her knife flashing, deflecting the shot in a spray of sparks.
She vanished again.
Belle rolled aside just in time as Nia blinked behind her, the dagger scraping across Belle’s shoulder, cloth tearing. Belle grit her teeth, slammed her boot against the ground, and spun, swinging her rifle like a staff, forcing distance.
"Quick reflexes," Nia smirked, breathless. She blinked again, her afterimage slicing forward.
Belle pivoted, firing without aiming, her skill bending the bullet mid-spin. It homed in, grazing Nia’s arm this time, drawing blood.
The smile on Nia’s face faltered.
Belle’s lips curved into a thin, calm line. "Got you."
Nia narrowed her eyes, tightening her grip on the dagger. Then she blinked directly through a series of Belle’s bullets, letting them pass through the spaces where she no longer was, and came face-to-face with her.
The two women locked eyes. Neither flinched.
The clash shifted, Belle snapped her rifle up just in time to block Nia’s dagger, steel screeching against steel. Sparks rained between their faces, the two women staring into each other’s eyes with sharp defiance.
Nia vanished mid-pressure, blinking through Belle’s guard. The dagger sliced toward her ribs, Belle twisted, catching the blade between the frame of her rifle, wrenching it aside, then drove her knee upward. Nia blinked again, reappearing behind her, but Belle anticipated it, swinging the butt of her rifle backward in a brutal arc. The hit connected, forcing Nia to stumble.
Belle took the chance, one fluid motion, her hand darted to her hip, drawing a sleek pistol. She fired point-blank.
CRACK!
Nia blinked at the last possible instant, the bullet grazing across her cheek, leaving a thin line of blood. She reappeared crouched low, slashing upward. Belle bent back, the dagger just kissing the fabric at her stomach, and retaliated by slamming her pistol down like a hammer.
Steel rang again as Nia caught it with her blade.
The two locked, straining against each other.
Then, Nia blinked not away, but through Belle, her form phasing like smoke. Belle spun instantly, gun snapping up, but the dagger was already descending from above.
Belle dropped flat to the ground, rolling away, firing as she moved. Her bullet curved unnaturally mid-flight, chasing Nia through her flickers. Nia blinked three times in rapid succession, dodging, but the bullet adjusted its arc each time, buzzing right on her heels.
"Tch, persistent little trick," Nia hissed, blinking once more, straight into Belle’s guard.
Belle had been waiting.
The rifle swung up like a shield, and the bullet she fired moments ago ricocheted off the barrel itself, snapping around and slamming into the ground just where Nia had reappeared, the shockwave staggering her.
Belle surged forward, dagger now in her free hand, slicing toward Nia’s exposed side.
Nia barely blinked away in time, the blade cutting her sleeve open, close enough to bite flesh.
They paused, circling, breaths sharp and shoulders heaving.
Neither gave an inch.
Their breaths fogged the air, their bodies taut like coiled springs. The room smelled of gunpowder, blood, and burned ozone. Neither woman lowered her guard, this wasn’t a fight of speed anymore, it was endurance.
Belle twirled her pistol once, casually, her eyes never leaving Nia. "You’re slowing down," she said, voice calm, almost taunting.
Nia smirked, though her chest rose and fell harder than before. "Or maybe I just don’t need to waste energy on someone whose bullets can’t touch me." She tilted her dagger, letting the faint glow of her Blink skill flicker in the blade’s reflection. "You can’t hit what doesn’t stay in place."
Belle fired without warning. Nia blinked, reappearing just a step behind her, but Belle didn’t flinch. She had aimed not at Nia, but at the wall. The bullet ricocheted at an impossible angle, slamming toward Nia’s reappearance point.
Nia twisted aside with a curse, the round grazing her arm. "You think you can predict me?"
"I don’t need to," Belle replied coolly, reloading with mechanical precision. "I just need to make you doubt yourself."
For the first time, Nia’s eyes flickered with unease. Blink was her edge, her confidence. But if Belle kept anticipating, each use became a gamble.
So Nia changed tactics. Instead of blinking away, she dashed forward. Dagger against barrel, she pressed in close, forcing Belle into melee where prediction mattered less and reflexes ruled.
The clash turned brutal. Belle parried with her rifle’s frame, slammed her pistol toward Nia’s face, only to be met with a blink that left the shot punching air. Nia reappeared low, slashing at Belle’s legs, but Belle dropped her rifle down like a staff, blocking with the hardened barrel.
Their movements slowed,not from weakness, but from calculation. Every swing, every shot was heavier now, deliberate, conserving energy.
"You’re breathing harder," Belle observed, her tone steady, though sweat slid down her temple.
"And you’re bleeding," Nia countered, eyes flicking to the shallow cut on Belle’s side from earlier.