He was on Tora within a second. She didn't have time to react. A fist came at her and rammed into her stomach. Her organs shifted on impact. A rising sense of acute nausea washed over her body, tightening her throat, and the pressure in her head made her eyes bulge.

The hit raised her off the ground completely; a crack whipped through the air.

A kick to the side of her ribs sent her flying across the helipad. She barrelled through the pile of filled metal bins, scattering them like bowling pins. Tora slammed into the metal barrier running alongside the edge of the roof. The metal clanged, bending on impact. Further cracks exploded from her spine, sending pins and needles shooting down to her legs. The lower half of her body tingled.

Tora coughed out a mouthful of blood. She could taste the metallic sting where the back of her nose joined the throat. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she forced her legs to move. They screamed in protest, shaking uncontrollably. She hoped they wouldn't give. The pain pulsed steadily from the impact point in her spine. Wind blew by, giving her little relief. Her t-shirt stuck to her chest.

The boy, unscathed, still had that infuriating smile on his face.

"Your fighting style hasn't changed in all these years, Lilitha."

"Stop calling me Lilitha," spat Tora. "What the hell are you?"

"The same as you."

Scowling at yet another cryptic answer, Tora feigned to the right and swung a kick from the left. She was too slow. He blocked it with a lazy hand. His movement moved like water. One knock to the back of her already weakened knees sent her crashing to the ground again. Her head banged against the concrete. Stars exploded in front of her eyes.

"There's more than this," said the boy, inspecting his fingers. Tora bared her teeth at him, getting up and wincing all the way. "Or are you going to fight like an ant all the way?"

She could use her liquid. None of her hits were landing and she was too injured. She couldn't see another way. There was no way this person could be human, either. The strength and skill were unnatural.

What the hell does he want, anyway? There were only two types of people that wanted her: demons wanted her dead and Ross wanted to thrash her.

And this guy was neither.

"Ci...rus?" she found herself saying. She clapped a hand over her mouth, sitting up. What was that?! Was she losing control?

The boy looked as if Christmas had come early.

"Cyrus?" He cocked his head. "I suppose in human tongue, I would have that name."

Cyrus moved in, an elated grin stretching from ear to ear.

Tora spat out another mouthful of blood. Her head hurt so bad it was like a hammer was smashing repeatedly against her occiput. Her muscles trembled, too worn out to put in more fighting. Cyrus cast a shadow over her, his golden eyes scanning her as if she were some fascinating creature.

She stared up at him. The yellow in his eyes appeared to swirl in a hypnotising manner.

"There is so much to catch up on, so much for you to know. I can't wait. We can—"

Tora took her chance. With the last of her strength, she formed a forcefield around the scattered metal bins and threw them at him. He didn't even so much as give a backward glance. Clangs filled the air. The bins bounced off an invisible wall and then off each other, before hitting the ground and rolling away.

"That was so rude, Lilitha," said Cyrus, reproachful. "I was talking."

That was it. This man's a psychopath.

The bins rose by themselves behind him. Tora's jaw dropped.

"You used to wreak havoc whenever I was training for one of my speeches, remember? I don't suppose you do..." The bins spun in a continuum. The air stilled. Tora swallowed, her throat dry as sand.

Without warning, they flew at her. Five metal bins spinning on their axes tearing at maximum speed. She would be crushed.

Tora gritted her teeth. Her life wasn't ending like this, with her becoming a pile of minced meat. That fate was for demons. She threw up a forcefield, which shimmered and then promptly disappeared. Swearing under her breath, she cast another one. The bins approached, gleaming in the sunlight. The forcefield disappeared again.

Goddamiti! She squeezed her eyes shut. It was over. She strained her mind against where the wall had been, but it was hopeless.

A chorus of clangs rang out.

Tora's breath came in shallow gasps. Energy flowed to her fingertips, sending life through all of her cells. The fear in her mind melted away, transforming to power.

"Stay away from me," she growled, rising to her feet. Fire burned in her eyes.

Cyrus continued to grin.

"That will be the last thing I do."

Golden liquid seeped through her pores. She darted forward, almost faster than the eye could see. Cyrus lashed out at her. She wove in and out of his attempts, blocking with telekinesis the strikes she couldn't avoid. Cyrus's cheeks became flushed, his eyes bright. His movement sped up to match hers.

He powered up, pushing her back. A kick came up from her blind spot. She threw up a wall, blocking his foot. The leg connected, forcing her back by a metre. Sweat poured down her face. Her muscles strained with all their might. Even then, she continued to skid backwards. Something flat and hard pressed against her back.

A forcefield?

"What is this?" she gasped. The pressure increased against her chest. Her already cracked ribs shifted further, causing pain to shoot across her chest. The air left her lungs. Her concentration shattered, dropping the forcefield.

"Did you think you were the only one?" Cyrus's voice lowered to a whisper. He stood with his arms crossed, tapping his fingers against his forearm. A soft smile was on his face.

"Who are you?"

"That will come to you soon. Remember your promise."

She coughed. Her head was about to explode.

"My what?"

"Tora!"

A figure burst onto the roof. From the look on Ross's face, it was obvious she'd caught the last of the conversation. She threw a look at Tora, her flaming red hair fanning like a halo around her face. Tora barely caught the hatred in it and reacted with slow surprise. Was she hating her for being defeated? Ross hadn't fared too well herself; her hair had come loose in the fighting. Blood spattered her chest and face. Her leggings were smoking with demon blood.

"Demon!" She hissed and snapped into five copies, all of them scowling and angry.

"No, Ross, don't!" Tora managed to say. He's deadly, she wanted to add, but Cyrus tightened his forcefield against her chest, squeezing the last of the air from her lungs. There was a gleam in his golden eyes and a sly curl of a smile at his lips. This was bad.

Ross's eyes flashed at her words and the hatred returned to her face. Tora was astonished to see it directed at her. She was trying to warn her – what was with the strange response?

The Rosses merged into each other, fury on the identical faces. They blended into one before splitting again, making it impossible to tell which was the real one. Tora could only watch, blood pounding in her head and her limbs frozen on Cyrus's forcefield. One of them shot forward, uppercut aimed straight at his chin.

Cyrus didn't move; the fist passed without any effect through his head. He still held Tora's gaze with a firm interest, that enigmatic smile toying on his lips. It was like Ross didn't exist.

The other Rosses closed in. Two sailed from above, legs extended. Two came from the sides. The first one turned and dived from the back.

The idle look still on his calm face, Cyrus let the first two attacks pass through him again before he took a tiny step back. Ross flew by. A gust of wind indicated that was the real one, although how he could tell, Tora didn't know. He seemed to slide by like water.

The counterattack flowed like water, too. Cyrus's eyes flashed. One hand grabbed the back of Ross's t-shirt, yanking her backwards. The whiplash made the redhead grunt. With his other hand, Cyrus punched her abdomen. A guttural sound left Ross's throat. Her eyes bulged.

She flew across the helipad, slamming into the air ducts. A hollow metallic clang rang out. Her copies disappeared when she slammed to the floor, coughing and retching. Cyrus studied his knuckles, looking more like he was admiring a painting than fighting a seasoned Seeker. He made no move to attack and showed no interest in Ross as she got up, scowling. She flexed her hands, cracking a few of the small joints. A fire burned in her bright eyes, pink spots blossoming on her cheeks. Her teeth gritted together.

Splitting into five copies again, this time they surrounded Cyrus on all sides, ensuring one of them was standing in his blind spot. They jumped in together. Tora lost sight of the real Ross when she split into another five – nearly doubling the count. Two dived in; the others feinted. Cyrus continued to watch ahead, disinterested.

Tora's throat was dry. A heavy sense of dread settled in her chest. The injuries she'd sustained earlier steadily drained whatever was left of her stamina. The golden liquid had long receded into the recesses of her mind, depriving her from any hope of retaliating. Between fake attacks and jabs, Ross managed to make contact with Cyrus, but she might as well have attacked him with a feather. The boy observed her with mild interest, like she was a fly doing intricate tricks in the air. Her kicks and punches made dull thuds but his clothes didn't even crease on impact.

It was then it hit Tora. Ross was only hitting his forcefield. The telekinesis in him was so strong Tora couldn't overcome it; there was no way Ross could even touch his skin. Ross didn't give up. She continued with the fury of a wild animal, executing attacks that were getting more and more desperate. But none of her attacks truly landed.

The battle took place in silence and was very much one-sided. On the right was Ross, sweaty, bloodied, and out of breath. On the other was Cyrus, cool and appearing bored. Tora strained against the invisible force, but her exhausted mind could do little than see what was going on.

On Ross's next assault, Cyrus shot out a hand. He caught her by the throat. Surprise flitted across Ross's face before it was replaced by panic, an emotion Tora had never seen on her before. Cyrus's golden eyebrows knitted together. His lips were turning down at the corners.

"You're boring me," he said in a flat voice. He squeezed. Ross's eyes bulged. Her face turned red. She made gargling noises, scrabbling without any effect at his hand.

"Stop," Tora croaked. Cyrus didn't hear her.

"Your little monkey display was a little interesting, but it's getting tiresome, now."

Tora stared, the dread increasing in magnitude until it felt like her heart would drop out of the bottom of her stomach. Was he going to kill her here?

Damien! She yelled in her head. Damien! Where are you?

There was nothing.

Damien! He's going to kill her! He's going to kill Ross!

Cyrus spun on the spot, lighter than the wind, and threw Ross at the wall against which Tora was also pinned. Tora winced, hearing the multiple cracks of bones as Ross made impact. The lieutenant didn't cry out, but her body jerked, a rush of air escaping her lungs. Blood dripped down the side of her head.

He held her with his mind, his expression not changing. Golden eyes looked at her up and down. His pupils flashed.

Ross jerked again and was pulled across the air in front of Cyrus. With a shake of his head, he threw her to the ground. She appeared to fall in slow motion.

In one quick movement, his leg extended. The heel sank into her stomach.

And he sent her flying off the roof.

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