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Dan stood once again at the edge of his makeshift arena, this time with Connor by his side. Opposite them, Abby strapped safety gear to Cornelius, the older man cackling all the while. He had taken off his shirt for reasons understood only by himself, but kept his police issue pants and utility belt. He’d discarded his gun, in case of an accidental discharge, but had opted to keep the rest as a ‘handicap.’ Dan knew the two of them stood little chance against the seasoned special forces officer, but he wished the man wasn’t so obviously gleeful about it.
He turned to Connor. “So… you’ve sparred with your uncle before?”
Connor’s face was grim. “A few times, yes.”
Well that was something, at least.
“What should we do?” Dan asked.
“…I have no idea,” Connor admitted. The younger man was rapidly clenching and unclenching his fist in a sort of nervous tic.
“Really making me feel confident here, Connor,” Dan noted wryly.
“He has thirty years of experience on us,” Connor said. He eyed Dan. “More on you, given you’ve barely been training for over a year.”
“Yeah, but I’m really good at it,” Dan pointed out.
Connor rolled his eyes. “Talent won’t help you here. Barehanded spars like this are grotesquely in his favor. He’s too fast, too strong, and too experienced.”
Dan nodded casually. “So we’re about to get our asses kicked?”
Cornelius finished his preparations. He punched his fists together, and bounded forward. Gregoir stepped up to act as referee while Freya and Abby watched dubiously from the sidelines. Connor watched his uncle with wary eyes.
“Yes,” the younger Graham replied simply.
“Ready boys?” Cornelius asked with a charming smile.
“Not really,” Dan replied.
Connor chose not to answer, simply bouncing on his heels a few times, shaking out his hands.
Cornelius laughed. He fell into something that couldn’t even be called a stance. One foot in front of the other, bracing himself. His arms hung loose at his side as he said, “No need to fret. All I’m gonna do is show you, as gently as I can, just how far you have to go.”
Gregoir stood between them, his meaty arm held out parallel to the ground. With a violent sweep downward, he shouted, “Begin!”
Dan opened the fight the exact same way as before, reappearing inside Cornelius’ guard, and landing a haymaker against his torso. It felt almost exactly the opposite of hitting Connor. Rather than punching water, it was like punching an oak tree wrapped in hemp rope. His fist ached, and his wrist creaked, and a heartbeat later Cornelius’ hand latched on to Dan’s arm and twisted—
Dan got the hell out of there. He reappeared across the lawn, and watched Connor launch himself at his uncle. The elder Graham socked his nephew right across the jaw, so fast that Dan only realized it after the fact. Yet Connor bent with the blow, his entire body following as he cartwheeled sideways. His foot lashed out, and Cornelius stepped aside, looking for all the world like he was grocery shopping.
Dan appeared behind the man, stomping down on the crook of his knee. The limb didn’t even bend, and Cornelius spun around fast enough for his knuckles to knock against Dan’s chest. He retreated to t-space, his ribs aching.
Dan floated for a while, catching his breath and planning. It wasn’t just that Cornelius was stronger than him, or tougher than him, or faster than him. It was everything. Twice-Born doubled a man’s positive physical attributes, but that had a cumulative effect on actual output. His skin was twice as tough, but also twice as flexible, twice as good at absorbing force. His reflexes were twice as fast, and his nerves transmitted information at twice the speed.
It was as if Daniel was a small child trying to fight a fully grown adult. There was a massive, insurmountable difference in physique. He couldn’t just punch the man and hope for the best. Fortunately, he had other options. He closed his eyes, and fell.
Dan dropped back into reality and greeted Cornelius with a massively accelerated dropkick. The wrestling move was hilariously impractical, unless the person executing it happened to have the momentum of a cannonball. Both of Dan’s feet slammed into the elder Graham’s chest, launching the man across the yard, and rattling Dan’s bones.
Dan blinked beside Connor, staggering slightly as everything began to hurt. That had been a terrible idea. Cornelius hit the dirt thirty feet away, turning his sliding crash into a smooth roll and bouncing up to his feet. The man barely looked winded, though the hit had clearly surprised him.
“I actually felt that!” he called out encouragingly.
“Can you grapple him if I distract him?” Dan asked breathlessly.
Connor rubbed his jaw. “Let’s find out.”
They sprinted forward together, but Dan reoriented to Cornelius’ flank the moment they closed the distance. He landed a roundhouse to his opponent’s side, recognizing that his legs were the only things strong enough to even phase the man. Cornelius latched around the limb, but Dan vanished from his grip, landing the exact same kick on his other side. He reoriented himself in t-space one last time, before firing off another dropkick at Cornelius’ calves. His blow landed right as Connor crashed into the man, and Dan quickly fled the tangle of limbs.
The two relatives hit the dirt, Connor frantically scrabbling for leverage as Cornelius laughed uproariously. The elder Graham landed half a dozen rapid punches to his nephew’s torso, and Connor’s body jerked oddly with each hit as he attempted to redirect the force. His hand was locked around his uncle’s wrist, and was slowly bending the man’s limb into an armbar. Cornelius staggered to his feet in the same exaggerated manner of a father play-wrestling with his child.
Dan slammed into him with a lunging takedown he’d learned in his very first Jiu-Jitsu lesson, a decade ago. Cornelius’ back hit the dirt, and Dan teleported away before his torso could be popped like a zit by the man’s thighs. Instead, Cornelius used his enormously powerful legs to brace against Connor’s chest. The younger man groaned for a moment, before he was launched away by a powerful push. Cornelius stood up, looking no worse for wear.
“Well, shit,” Dan commented.
The older man laughed. “Not bad effort! Grappling is the right call, assuming you can get the leverage, but Connor’s grasp of his power isn’t quite enough to match my strength.” He flexed, but then as almost an afterthought, added, “But he’ll get there, one day.”
Connor staggered upright, and made his way over to Dan. He clapped his hand on Dan’s shoulder, gasping, “Good effort, Newman.”
A soft voice cleared her throat on the sidelines. Abby strolled up, strapping on a pair of gloves.
“You boys mind if I take a turn?”
Connor looked dubious, but Dan had gotten his ass kicked by his girlfriend too many times to worry about her. He gestured magnanimously. “By all means.”
“I didn’t know we were doing tag-teams,” Cornelius called jovially. “I’ll happily entertain you too, Miss Summers! I’m very interested in seeing what your grandmother has taught you.”
Abby’s returning smirk told Dan that Cornelius might not like what he learned. They posted up across from each other. Abby slid one foot forward, leaning slightly forward, with both hands held palm out. Cornelius raised an eyebrow, and actually took a stance of his own, something straight out of an MMA ring.
Gregoir dutifully returned to the center, holding out his arm and slashing it downwards. “Begin!”
Cornelius’ arm flashed, and Abby brushed aside the jab before Dan saw it move. Her hand lingered on his arm, tracing the man’s elbow as he retracted the limb. She stepped forward, pausing for a heartbeat, and turning just enough for the man’s knee to brush against her hip. She leaned back, suddenly, and Cornelius’ right fist appeared a hairs-width from her nose, arm fully extended. She followed him as he danced backwards, feet perfectly in tune with him, sticking to the man like glue.
Cornelius’ brow was furrowed. He threw out a feint before twisting forward in a vain attempt to grapple her. She moved into the feint, and slid past his grapple as if she’d known it was coming. Her hand brushed the man’s waist, pulling something out of his belt and pocketing it, before giving him a shove at the perfect moment to send him off-balance. The force actually jolted the man, and Dan saw his eyes widen in surprise.
Cornelius spun on his heel, not losing track of Abby for more than a moment. He kept his gaze fixed on her, as he said, “Stronger than I’d expect, given your build. Much stronger. Faster, too.”
“Good genes I guess,” Abby replied with a soft smile.
Cornelius grunted, and threw out a rapid combination of punches and kicks that Abby seemed to walk through as if they weren’t even there. Cornelius skipped backwards, and she trailed him like a ghost. He clicked his tongue, throwing out a jab every now and then, just to keep her on her toes.
“You were using your upgrade on me when you helped me with the pads,” he accused, some amusement in his voice.
“You wanted to know what Mama Ana taught me,” Abby reminded him. She pressed forward suddenly, slipping past Cornelius’ guard. He immediately swept his arm around her shoulders going for a grapple, but seized up. His entire body jerked in surprise, and he toppled to the ground, twitching wildly.
Abby wiggled the APD stun gun she’d filched from his belt, prongs embedded in the man’s stomach.
“She taught me to cheat.”
Dan cheered, followed quickly by Connor and Freya. Abby blushed bright red at the sudden praise, and skipped over to Dan, dropping the taser as she went. Connor dissolved into helpless laughter as his uncle flailed, and Abby wrapped Dan in a hug. Freya and Gregoir moved to unstick the feebly twitching SPEAR Team leader, as Dan planted a wet kiss on Abby’s cheek.
It had been a good day, Dan decided.
Things were looking up.