CHAPTER 44: CHAPTER 44: EDGE

An hour in, and Jace was still standing tall. Sweat dripped down his jaw, his shirt stuck to his back, but his breathing was steady.

Eva, by contrast, leaned forward with her hands braced on her knees, catching her breath.

Her hair clung damp to her temples, and frustration flashed in her eyes every time she glanced at him.

"You’ve gotta be kidding me," she muttered. "You’re not even winded?"

Jace shrugged, rolling his shoulders. "Not really."

[Of course not,] Zin chimed in. [His ability is kinetic at the core. Every bit of movement generates fuel for his system. Where a normal body loses energy, his recycles it back. The more he moves, the more stable he stays. It doesn’t mean infinite stamina, but it keeps him going far longer than any baseline human.]

Eva shot Jace a sharp look, her tone edged with bitterness. "Yeah, I know. It used to be my body running like that, remember?"

Jace’s smirk faltered. He scratched the back of his neck, guilt surfacing despite himself. "...Right."

She straightened slowly, tying her hair back again, jaw tight. "Don’t act surprised you’re fine while I’m tired. I lived with that power for years. I know exactly what it feels like. Except now it’s in you."

The air hung heavy for a moment, Jace silent under the weight of her words. Zin didn’t say anything either, though Jace could feel his presence buzzing faintly in the back of his mind.

Finally, Jace broke the quiet, his voice lower. "Okay, fine. Let’s switch it up then. No more charging in like an idiot. Let’s stand and trade this time. Make it more real."

Eva exhaled hard through her nose, then squared her stance across from him.

Her tiredness didn’t dull the sharpness in her eyes. "Good. Because powers or not, you still don’t know how to fight."

Jace smirked again, but this time it was forced, covering the sting of her words. He raised his hands, ready to start again.

Jace raised his hands in a clumsy guard. His stance looked fine at first glance, but Eva could already see the gaps, the weight too heavy on his front leg, elbows flared just enough to slip a punch through.

She circled him lightly, her steps fluid, balanced. "Don’t just stand there. Come on."

He smirked and lunged, throwing a wide right hand. His speed was frightening; the air cracked as his fist cut through where her face had been.

But Eva had already ducked, pivoting on her heel. She tapped his ribs with a clean shot before sliding out of range.

Jace grunted, barely registering the hit, and swung again, this time with his left. Faster. Stronger.

She slipped it just the same, letting his momentum carry him past. His size and raw strength made him dangerous, but also predictable.

"Too slow," she taunted, bouncing on her toes.

"Too slippery," he shot back, rushing forward. This time he used his speed, closing the gap before she could reset. His shoulder rammed into her chest, and they hit the ground hard, Jace on top.

He smirked down at her. "Got you."

Eva’s lips curled, unimpressed. "Do you?"

Before he could react, her hips twisted sharply.

She hooked one leg around his and bucked her body with perfect timing. Jace’s balance collapsed.

In a blink, she’d reversed him, straddling his chest with his wrists pinned to the ground.

He blinked up at her, stunned. "What the—"

"You’re stronger. Faster. Bigger," she said flatly, her hair clinging to her face with sweat. "But strength without control is just wasted motion."

Jace strained, trying to throw her off, but her leverage was flawless. Every time he moved, she adjusted, staying a step ahead. His raw power only made her counters sharper.

She leaned closer, voice low. "And right now? You’re fighting like a brawler on the street. Anyone trained will eat you alive."

Jace scowled, embarrassed but silent. His muscles flexed, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t shake her.

Finally, she released him, standing smoothly while he rolled onto his elbows, frustrated.

[She’s right,] Zin hummed in his head. [All that speed and power, and you’re getting schooled. Learn her technique, or you’ll always be the hammer swinging blind.]

Jace wiped sweat from his brow, standing again. His jaw was tight, but there was a spark in his eyes.

"Fine," he muttered. "Again."

And it happened again.

She caught his wrist, twisted, and he hit the floor.

Again.

She pivoted off his charge, clipped his leg, and he ate dirt.

Again.

She slipped past his guard, hooked his neck, and dumped him flat on his back.

And again.

Every time he charged, she redirected. Every punch he threw was caught, turned, or avoided.

Every attempt to use his size or speed ended with his back on the ground or his wrist twisted against him.

He stopped talking after the third fall. By the fifth, his smirk was gone. By the eighth, his confidence was starting to wither.

It wasn’t about stamina. Sweat clung to his skin, his shirt stuck to his chest, but his breathing never lost rhythm.

His alien physiology, the kinetic energy humming beneath his muscles, kept him moving like the session had only just begun. And that only made it worse.

He had strength, speed, and reflexes on his side, advantages that should’ve made this one-sided. Instead, she was tearing through him with ease.

Eva wasn’t stronger. She wasn’t faster. She didn’t have powers anymore.

What she had was experience. Technique. Years of training baked into her reflexes. Every time he thought he had her cornered, she slipped away.

Every time he thought he’d overpowered her, she found a joint, a step, or an angle that sent him down harder than before.

After an hour, Jace’s pride was the only thing truly battered. His body didn’t ache like hers once did after sparring.

He wasn’t exhausted. But the bruises to his ego were piling up with each takedown.

And somewhere in the middle of it, he started to notice the way she moved.

There was sharpness to her attacks, a bite to her throws.

It felt less like instruction and more like punishment. She wasn’t teaching gently, she was venting.

Every time she slammed him into the dirt, he felt her resentment bleed through.

She’d lost her powers. To him. And now she was paying him back under the name of training.

Jace swallowed the thought and climbed back to his feet again. He didn’t say anything, couldn’t.

The guilt sat heavy in his chest, telling him he deserved every slam, every bruise, every hit that landed harder than it needed to.

Still, he clenched his fists, readying himself again.

Because no matter how many times she dropped him, he wasn’t staying down.