[Replication – the enigmatic skill assimilated from Raven. It is seemingly limitless in its applications, but the replication of living beings is an extraordinary usage of the ability. However, it does not precisely recreate every facet of the reference. The strength, speed, toughness–all of those attributes scale in accordance to the user and their perception of the being they create.
In Finn's mind, he sees his friend as an ever-reliable bulwark."]
["Spring Foot"] ["Supercharge"] ["Orcish Boost"]
The short distance of just a few meters was covered in an instance as he saw the opening created by Damian while one arm was occupied by the Devil. Rather than placing it into his legs, the "Supercharge" filled his arm with a surge of strength as though batteries had been fired up within his joints.
He closed the distance by swiftly stabbing his blade right into the chest of the devilish man, letting it sink down to the handle.
Yet–
Squelch.
–At the same time his dagger entered the enemy's torso, a flood of liquid seemed to fill his mouth as a burning sensation radiated from his cheek. Right through his cheek, piercing through his mouth and out of the other side, the man's knife pushed.
Even with his blade buried in his chest with Damian's axe halfway through the bulging forearm, the Devil stood strong, not budging an inch yet even as his body trembled.
'I definitely stabbed his heart. Just what is this guy made out of? Nothing about him is human–it's not,' he thought.
As if proving his suspicions, the black-haired man pushed back, flexing his entire body as the axe was forced out of his hand. Before the dagger could be grabbed, Finn withdrew it, sliding back as the man's knife was plucked from his cheek.
"Pyuh!--"
Finn spat out a lob of blood and saliva from his mouth, though it still seeped down his bottom lip. Like a raindrop splattering on the sidewalk of a brisk night, the crimson dribble landed as everything else was deafened out.
The finish line was just ahead, and falling just short of it would be death; it needed to be crossed.
["Wild Instinct"]
All other thoughts were blocked out except hunting the enemy before him; like the feral eyes of an apex predator, he locked onto the man before beginning his mad dash. Blood leaked from his mouth as his skewered cheeks hid nothing from his teeth behind.
He met the killer halfway, rapidly slashing his daggers at his body, dodging at the same time from the knife. It was as difficult as ever to land a proper strike, though his animalistic mindset allowed him to freely maneuver as well.
Amidst their exchange of sharpness–
The bulky figure in armor came between him and the sinister knife, taking it into his own body in his place.
"Damian–" Finn muttered in a moment of clarity.
Seeing the friend of his, even if only a mere replication, commit the selfless act felt all too real. As the knife was torn upward through the torso of the doppelganger, it was relinquished into a puddle of black.
'Thanks for having my back, buddy,' Finn thanked.
There was nothing standing between them now as he moved forward just as the nameless man did as well. He didn't shy away from meeting with those inhuman, pitch-black irises; they were so intensely crafted with malice that he didn't fear them looking at him any other way.
Not a single droplet of hesitation was left within him; not a drop of mercy nor restraint. At the very least, the two were equal on one aspect, agreeable on the same thought: "I'm going to kill him."
In place of the spear, he called on something much more vulgar in its violence; the axe that was not meant to be wielded by a man his size, borrowed from one much more suited. If simple stabs or slashes weren't cutting it, the idea was to completely obliterate the enemy with the much larger weapon.
As the skulking figure lunged at him, he dragged the axe across the split concrete, digging it in and carving it up in its path. He swung it up, launching a wave of sediment with it right towards the nameless one's face. Stay updated through empire
The heavy swing managed to be sidestepped, though the wind pressure alone managed to send a gash across the enemy's chest. Yet, there was no opportunity to celebrate as Finn found himself immediately countered.
"Ngh!--"
The man stepped in before he could lift the axe again, forcing him to dismiss the weapon as he moved to stop the knife. It came towards his chest, though to his surprise, it was dropped from the man's hand.
'What?' He questioned.
The action made little sense to him as he watched the knife drop to the ground in that split-second, glancing up as he realized the figure pressed the distance still. Before he could move back, he was met face-to-face, closer than ever before with the nameless devil.
He saw it; that vicious smile that exuded utter joy in the act of bloodshed, twisted by inhuman malice. As he met with those hate-filled eyes, his ears popped–
Both index fingers were shoved into his ear canals, jabbed in like blades as his eardrums were utterly crushed. It was a pain unlike any other; a different sensation from being maimed, feeling as though his entire head exploded.
Blood gushed from his ears as the killer's fingers were withdrawn, leaving Finn to stumble back as only a blaring ringing filled his violated sense.
'My ears–I can't hear anything...my balance–' He thought, feeling as though the room was now spinning as warmth flowed down from his brutalized ears.
Attempting to straighten himself out, he was forced to call his daggers into his hands as the man pressed him without wasting a moment. Without his sense of hearing, the only thing resembling "sound" were the vibrations he felt from the rapid pace of the enemy coming at him.