The Extra's Rebellion
Chapter 77: Exposed backs are my treats

Chapter 77: Exposed backs are my treats

Earl knelt on the cracked marble floor, his gunbai serving as the only thing keeping him upright. Blood trailed down from the corners of his lips, staining his chin in streaks of red. He looked like a man defeated, yet his eyes—those blood red eyes—held a maelstrom of emotion. Joy. Excitement. And something dangerously close to hope.

A few feets away from him, Selene glared at Zephyr, her cheeks flushed. "You’re enjoying this way too much," she huffed in anger.

Zephyr flicked his wrist, slinging blood onto the ground as he locked eyes with her. Thanks to the enhanced vision granted by his transformed right eye, he caught his own reflection mirrored in Selene’s pupils—there was a smirk on his face.

He quickly schooled his expression, shifting into a cold, unreadable mask. "I’m not," he said flatly, his voice sharp and rough.

"Changing your face doesn’t change the fact you’re toying with us," Selene snapped. She’d sensed it throughout the fight—that maddening feeling that he’d been toying with them. From detached indifference to that grin, it all screamed of manipulation.

Zephyr almost smiled again. She was wrong—but only partly. He wasn’t toying with them... not intentionally. He was simply thrilled. Thrilled by the razor-thin edge of life and death he stood on. The rush of battle was intoxicating. He wasn’t like this before, he didn’t know what had changed.

"And y-you!" Selene turned to the crumpled figure nearby. "Look at the mess you made!"

Vida lay dying. As an Eplison, even the destruction of one of her hearts wasn’t fatal—not instantly, anyway. Her second heart hadn’t matured enough to purify or circulate Aether properly. If she were a Delta, she’d already be back on her feet, fighting.

Zephyr stared at her still body. A strange urge had itched at the back of his mind when he was fighting her —to stab her through the back with his hand. Not out of necessity, but inspiration. A favorite anime character of his in his past life loved that move. Now that he had the power, why not try it?

When he’d first awakened and discovered he was an Eplison, joy had surged through him like lightning. Despite Merin’s warnings, he couldn’t help but test his newfound strength. The first thing he explored was the ability etched into his core.

Its name was— Limbo – Hollow Breath Transition.

It hollowed out his essence out of reality, leaving behind a phantom husk—untouchable, invincible, incapable of interacting with the world. For 15 seconds, he became intangible. And once that time expired, he would forcibly snap back into reality.

The first time he activated it, his vision washed into a surreal blend of black and white—not grayscale, but a haunting fusion, like stepping into an old film. Then, he fell—right through the floor.

He plummeted through solid rock before panic kicked in as he remembered that he only had fifteen seconds.

His mind raced. Desperately, he used his first Art—locking space beneath his feet to stop the fall. Gripping nothing but air, he halted mid-descent, then began climbing upward by tapping his foot against locked space, just like he had when chasing the airborne Earl.

He surfaced just as time ran out—but not entirely, only his big toe was still inside the earth when the transition ended.

Two atoms—his and the rock’s—were now in the same space.

When two solid atoms try to occupy the same location, the result is simple— the one with less force breaks.

Fortunately, his body held more Aether than the rock. The stone shattered. His toe swelled red and angry—but intact. What wasn’t intact was his equilibrium. Since the return wasn’t voluntary and it was reality that rebounded heim back, his body slammed back together from multiple conflicting directions. Blood dripped from his lips, and he vomited bile from the recoil.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Fourth position goes to—Black Tortoise." Elden’s voice rang out as Vida’s body disintegrated. She had finally died.

Then the whisper of space stirred against Zephyr’s skin. He leapt instinctively, dodging from his previous spot. But when he turned—Selene hadn’t moved.

’What’s going on? My spatial sense... is it being jammed?’.

The sensation came again. A whisper of danger. He moved on reflex, but Selene was still standing where she had been—unmoving.

Then she began to throw knives.

They whizzed past as he dodged, but something was wrong. Very wrong. The whole thing felt... off.

Suddenly, a sharp throb exploded in his right eye. A burning pulse, fast and heavy like a heartbeat in the wrong place.

’What’s wrong with you?’ he hissed internally, clenching his right eye as pain seared through it. It felt like a heart attack—but behind his eye lids.

He could feel the seal working overtime, straining to contain the energy leaking from his eyeball. Then suddenly his vision doubled.

In one perspective, Selene was circling, throwing knives from different angles. In the other, she was still circling but she was walking calmly toward him—still holding a single knife.

That’s when it he remembered. One of the royal clans wielded illusions. The Royal Family had three bloodlines—one controlled light, another wielded illusions, and the last—starlight.

’Th-thank you’. He whispered weirdly to his eye and weirdly it ’responded’. Then a grin tugged at his lips, but he held it in.

Selene edged closer, circling him silently, unaware that he could now see through the trick.

Then she lunged.

Her eyes widened as her knife passed clean through his chest—nothing there. Just empty image.

Zephyr didn’t waste the opening.

He launched backward, phasing through her— Zephyr moved backward, his form submerged in limbo as he coated his arm in compressed space. The harden space allowed him to interact with her, even when his is in Limbo state. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back, eliciting a sharp cry of pain.

Puti.

His hand drove through her chest—straight through her heart.

"In case you haven’t heard". He whispered, leaning in. "Exposed backs are my treats".

Her body convulsed, locked in spasms as she stared down at the limb protruding from her chest. Her pupils dilated, she couldn’t believe it.

She had him, she knew she had him.

And yet—

He pulled his hand free. She dropped to the ground like a puppet with cut strings, coughing blood. Her vision swam. Her body convulsed, twitching uncontrollably as blood gurgled up her throat.

Zephyr exhaled, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady rhythm. The seal over his right eye simmered down, its glow dimming as the power receded.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

’How? How did I fail...?’. The truth was simple. She lacked information, she hadn’t known about his abilities. That was the reason she lost. But she didn’t know that.

’I had it all covered! He was supposed to be locked in my illusion! He was supposed to die when—’. The thoughts choked off in Selene’s mind, drowned in the blood bubbling up her throat. Her vision blurred as the coldness crept up from her limbs toward her chest.

Selene’s mouth opened, but only a strangled breath came out. Her body trembled, fingers twitching toward the knife still strapped to her thigh, her eyes flickered with fury, pain, and... regret.

’if only I had amplified it! If only I had layered it! If only I was stronger! If only I had..... known’. And then, as if accepting it, her arm fell limp. She exhaled a soft gasp, one that almost sounded like a curse—and collapsed fully, eyes rolling back. Her final thoughts

’If only....’.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Third position goes to— White tiger".

Zephyr stared as the lifeless body begun to disintegrate and appear in a Spectator’s chair readied for the participants.

He turned to stare at Earl who was now on his feet— grinning as he walked towards him.

"I have never seen a son of Demios control space before. Your abilities are similar to what the DuskFall clan possess".

He didn’t even let him speak as he continued. "Then again I have never seen a son of Demios with white hair’. He chuckled as he moved closer to Zephyr.

Zephyr backed away, he was low on Aether and he was tired, all he wanted to do at the moment was to rest but Earl wasn’t giving the time of the day.

Seeing that trying to get close was useless, he abandoned all form of small talks.

Earl vanished in a burst of afterimages, his gunbai slicing through the air, cloaked in swirling red Aether. Zephyr reacted instantly, locking a wedge of space behind him. Earl’s blow was deflected—barely—and the force of it cracked the locked space like glass.

The two moved again—blurs of violence and precision.

Zephyr ducked low, and did what he always wanted to do after experiencing it.

He extended his two arms outward as a pale dome of locked space expanded outward, it hit the body of Earl like a battling ram as he flew into the air.

Earl twisted midair, using his gunbai like a shield, the recoil launching him backward—but he landed on one hand, spun, and launched again.

"Your footwork’s alone speaks volumes of someone raised in the Pit," Earl growled between strikes.

Zephyr caught the next swing with a layer of hardened space coating his forearm. The impact rang like a gong, his bones rattled, but he didn’t break. The idea of fighting with his bare hands starting to take root in his mind.

They started to exchange blows turning into blurs around the fields until something happened.