steampunk phighting

“He—” I croaked, my throat dry and scratchy, a foreign, slightly bitter taste on my tongue. “Help!” My voice was so weak and thready, there was no way anyone would hear me, not through what I was now recognizing as sound-proof padding on the walls. What had happened to me? I couldn't remember. I didn't know where I was, had no idea why I was here.

The two former brothers then charged towards each other and began their fight. Falco hurled punches with the skill of a trained boxer, every attack carrying the energy of a sledgehammer at full swing and relying on blocking with water for defense. Viktor replied with animal-like slashes, each finger capable of burning right through armor like it was cotton, and banking on his agility to avoid harm.

“I’ll admit, we could have certainly used a healer and an archer on our team. But I know how Sophia feels about me, and how you feel about Valia. If the four of us traveled together, she and I would have been a distraction to you two, and your relationship would have suffered for it.” He stood over Alexis and held out his hand to her, just as he did when they spoke in the snow. “You two deserved a fresh start, a chance for your love to bloom in the sun instead of wither in our shadows. I apologize for the arrest and messiness that happened after I beat Seraph, but I am glad to return here and see you two living your lives, free and in love. That’s all I wanted for you two.”