Regan mirrored Kessler's movements as she walked along the edge of the flames. Behind her, the woman covered in spines rose to her feet. Her skin was a glistening mixture of black and pink patches like badly cooked meat. There was a high-pitched whimpering noise coming from her throat like an injured dog. 

Regan looked at Sarafina and the others. They had retreated until they were backed against the wall of the motel. Their escape route was blocked by the flames that spread across the concrete and licked at the bottom of the boarded up doorways. 

'Even at the height of your strength, you could never have matched me, Regan. How much strength have you lost since then? Every injury you carry will continue to take a toll, and you have more than most.' 

Regan ran a hand across her stomach. The deep wound that Kessler had given her was forming into a ragged scar. 'I've felt your technique Kessler. You should be wondering why you failed to kill me instead of speculating about my strength.' 

Kessler swung her sword in a lazy arc and rested it on her shoulder. 'We all learn from our mistakes.' 

She watched Regan through hooded lids. She looked lethargic, like she was about to fall asleep. 

Regan slid her foot back slightly and brushed a strand of blue hair behind her ear. Kessler looked relaxed, but the air around her felt like it was becoming thin, as if they were high in the atmosphere. Regan gripped the hilt of her sword. 

For a moment, both of them were still. 

The speed of Kessler's attack flattened the flames in her path like grass. She was in the air as their swords met, and there was a sound of screaming metal as the two blades scraped along each other. Regan felt the shock jar her arm as the blade drove downwards towards her collarbone. 

Regan threw Kessler off her and rushed forwards. She closed the distance, keeping in close range to prevent Kessler using the full power of her strikes. Her short katana lashed out like a whip, aiming for the gaps in Kessler's defences. As Kessler moved to open up space to attack, Regan punished her with fast slashes that struck sparks from her blade. 

'You've learned from last time,' said Kessler. 'Your techniques have the advantage at close range.' 

Regan spun in mid-air, and her blade flashed past Kessler's eyes. She seemed to bounce like a rubber ball as each strike flowed into the next without pause. Kessler retreated and caught Regan with a kick that sent her flying backwards. She slid to a stop in a crouch and looked at Kessler with vicious eyes. Around them, patches of burning petrol flickered like the flames of hell. 

Kessler lifted a hand to her cheek, where a thin red line ran across her skin. 'You're still a bloodthirsty little girl.' 

She examined the blood on her fingers like she was checking a bookshelf for dust. Regan rose to her feet. She was breathing heavily. 

'The world has no use for a traitor.' 

'Wrong. The world doesn't care one way or the other. I could leave you dead and bleeding in the gutter, and the world would continue to spin as if nothing ever happened.' 

Regan looked at the ground. When she spoke, her voice was barely louder than a whisper. 'That's why I'm here.' 

Regan launched herself forward. Her movements were faster than before. Her blade cut the air as she closed the distance with Kessler in less than a second, and her sword was a blur of flickering metal as she searched for an opening in her defences. 

Kessler was forced backwards as Regan's cuts lashed her like rain. 'I'm surprised. Your hatred has let you push your body further than I expected. However, you lack conviction.' 

Suddenly, Kessler's retreat stopped. Regan and Kessler's swords locked together with a sound like diamond scraping on glass. The two killers looked at each other across their weapons. Regan's face was a twisted mask of rage. She clenched her teeth as Kessler's sword sheared down her blade. 

'The only reason I pulled myself back from hell was to kill you.' 

There was an unnatural brightness in Kessler's eyes when she looked down at Regan. The firelight reflected off her white hair and made it look like her head was surrounded by liquid flames 'In that case, you should have stayed dead.' 

Regan gripped the handle of her sword with both hands as Kessler started to push her back. She tried to brace herself, but suddenly it was like she was trying to fight against a hydraulic press. As she tried to resist, the muscles in her arms felt like they were going to tear away from the bone. 

Kessler's gaze burned into Regan. Her face had the intense look of fanaticism about it. 'What arrogance was it that made you think you could face up to me? You're a broken girl -- a useless object to be destroyed and forgotten.' 

Kessler lashed out as Regan jumped back. Her blade flashed in the air and glanced off Regan's sword, making her palms sting with the force of the strike. 

Regan tried to dart to the side and evade, but Kessler seemed to know where she was going to move. She attacked with powerful slashes that cut off Regan's angles of escape and forced her to block each hit head on. Regan could feel Kessler's power increasing. Her attacks had shocking force behind them, and each strike felt like a punch to the stomach. As their swords met, Regan saw black and red spots for a moment. 

She stumbled. 

It was pure instinct that saved her. As Kessler's sword cut towards her throat, Regan threw herself backwards. As she flew through the air, she felt the tip of Kessler's sword brush the skin of her neck. She hit the ground and rolled to her feet. 

Kessler shifted her grip on her sword. 'Without your craft, you would have been a corpse. The next one will take you out.' 

Regan looked down at her hand. She could still feel vibrations in the bones of her arm. Her back was to the petrol station now. In front of her, Kessler was a silhouette against the flames. She massaged the back of her hand and felt the feeling start to return to her fingers. 'You've changed to a more aggressive stance. Are you that confident I can't cut you?' 

'I've seen all of your techniques before. Everything you have is just a cheap copy of my fighting style.' 

'That scratch on your cheek wasn't from a kitten.' 

Kessler shrugged. 'Your rage gave you surprising speed, but fire like that can't burn for long. You won't be able to generate speed like that again.' 

The look Regan gave Kessler was filled with cold hatred. She slid her foot back and lifted her sword. 'Don't start putting up streamers yet. I might just ruin your party.' 

'Hope is a useless weapon. You of all people should know that.' 

Kessler rushed in to attack, but Regan was ready for her. She slipped past Kessler, blocking her attacks with light, fast movements. Kessler's strikes seemed to slide off Regan's sword as she circled around her. 

'Clever,' said Kessler. 'You're using speed and angles to take the power out of my strikes before they begin.' 

'You're a creature of habit, Kessler. Even a cheap copy will think of a counter if you keep coming in with the same attack.' 

Regan evaded Kessler's sword and counter attacked. Suddenly, Kessler was forced to defend herself as Regan moved in. She twisted quickly to protect herself from the strange angle of attack. 

Regan's blade flashed as it hit Kessler's sword. 'Your power is unmatched, but you have no innovation. If I target your weak points, your style will shatter.' 

Regan lashed out, but Kessler grabbed her jacket and dragged her in. Their blades clashed, and for a second, Regan was close enough to feel the touch of Kessler's breath on her hair. 

Kessler smiled a cold, unsettling smile. 'You have the gall to lecture me as if you're winning. You have no idea how little you understand.' 

Regan pulled away, but as she stumbled back she realised her mistake. Long, grasping fingers grabbed her from behind. She tried to twist out of their grip, but before she could, she felt knife-like teeth bite down into her neck. Sharp, crimson pain stabbed into her. 

She saw Kessler watching her. She held her sword at her side and made no move to attack. There was an empty look in her eyes, like looking into the bottom of a crevasse. 

'You're not the only one who's been through hell.'