The air at the port reeked of salt, oil, and blood. Smoke swirled in broken spirals, dancing with the flickering lights of burning crates and shattered streetlamps.

And at the centre of it all, chaos.

Boom!

A shockwave rippled through the docks as Nadya hurled another explosive orb with pinpoint accuracy. The detonation lit up the area, the orange glare reflecting off warped metal and splintered wood.

But the Scalpel emerged from the blast, untouched.

At least on the surface.

His long coat fluttered around him like the robes of an executioner, and his skin, though torn and lacerated moments ago, was slowly weaving itself back together. Threads of muscle tightened, skin sealed, bones snapped back into place with unsettling cracks.

But something was… off.

His movements had lost their silky grace. They were slower. Less precise. And his breath was ragged.

He wasn't healing. Not truly.

He was forcefully manipulating his own body, using that twisted ability of his to stitch himself back together.

And it was taking a toll.

Inside, his organs trembled. Some ruptures remained. Hairline fractures in his ribs, bruising near his lungs, a nicked artery that kept leaking even as he forced the flesh around it to close.

Sven narrowed his eyes. "Guess we've already done a number on you."

The Scalpel just smiled, eyes glowing with a sickly gleam. Then, without a word, he lunged forward, only to find nothing where Nadya stood.

Bang!

She crashed down from above, an orb detonating near his feet, forcing him to twist aside. Smoke billowed, and Sven zipped in, appearing beside the Scalpel with a dagger aimed for his spine.

The Scalpel spun, blade meeting Sven's with a shriek of metal on metal.

But Sven didn't stay still long enough for a counter.

He burst.

Gone again.

One second he was behind, the next he was beside Nadya, breathing hard. His legs trembled with every movement now.

'Not yet,' he thought, 'don't lock up yet.'

He was nearing his limit after bursting around the docks.

Still, he smirked. "You can't defeat us alone. And don't expect back-up, I've already handled them."

"Oh?" the Scalpel tilted his head.

"I took care of your little minions. Fast. Efficient. Didn't even break a sweat." He twirled a dagger. "And I did some digging. Heard the rumours. Urban legend, they said. The doctor who fell off the grid. Carves people up like meat. Sips their blood like wine."

The Scalpel licked the blood on his lips with theatrical flair. "And?"

"You're disgusting," Nadya spat, launching another orb.

He dodged, barely. The blast sent crates flying and singed the edge of his coat.

And yet… he grinned.

"You two… you dance well together. Almost perfectly in sync. It's rare. Beautiful, even." His eyes twitched, and his jaw clicked as a vein bulged unnaturally on his temple. "I'll definitely get some trophies from the two of you."

"Yeah, no thanks," Sven replied, flickering beside him and slicing his shoulder open again.

The wound pulsed, muscle writhing as it tried to stitch.

But Sven was gone again before the retaliation came.

Then Nadya slammed in from the side with a sliding kick, her reinforced boot striking true. As he stumbled back, she followed up with another orb - this one point-blank.

Boom!

The blast tore through the air, hurling the Scalpel into a steel shipping container with a thunderous clang.

He slid down, blood trickling from his mouth.

His body twitched, skin bubbling, tendons twitching like worms as they desperately tried to hold his shape together.

He was still standing.

But barely, and it seemed as though facing Kai had already strained him enough, and now the Russian duo was just finishing him off.

"You're not healing," Sven said, appearing beside Nadya.

She smirked. "He's stapling himself back together."

"And he's running out of staples."

But just as the two of them prepared for a finishing strike, shadows moved.

Three figures emerged from the smoke behind them.

Sven's jaw tightened.

"These fuckers," he muttered.

The ones he'd deliberately avoided. Mutants working under the Scalpel. They weren't anything special, but they were still dangerous. Enhanced speed, strength, and durability.

"What was that about back-up?" the Scalpel rasped, straightening up as blood trickled from his ear. "I like these numbers now."

However, it still wasn't enough to even the playing field.

Because Nadya and Sven moved like a storm.

The first mutant lunged for Nadya, only to catch an explosive orb right to the chest. It exploded, folding the brute's body into a smoking mess.

The second began chanting and conjuring some sort of ranged attack to strike Sven. But he vanished in a blur and reappeared beside her, piercing a knife through the side of her neck before she could even finish.

The third tried to blindside Nadya, but she ducked, spun, and blasted him away with a short-range orb that sent shockwaves through the ground.

In perfect sync.

No wasted movement. No hesitation.

Even when surrounded, they fought like they were one, and in an instant, they eliminated his mutant subordinates.

The Scalpel tried to join the fray - slashing, stabbing, searching for an opening -but they didn't give him one. Sven zipped around him like a phantom, while Nadya's blasts kept him on the defensive.

Until...

"That's enough."

He grabbed the body of one of his fallen underlings, flinging him into the path of Nadya's oncoming orb.

Boom!

The body exploded mid-air.

And in that split second of chaos, a scalpel flew.

Straight for Nadya's throat.

She widened her eyes, but it was too fast for her to react.

The same wasn't for Sven.

He burst forward, grabbed her mid-fall, and tumbled to safety just as the blade embedded itself in the ground with a metallic thunk.

When they looked back, he was gone.

Smoke. Blood. Silence.

The Scalpel had vanished into the night like a ghost who'd had his fill.

"Coward," Nadya muttered, panting.

"He knew he was beat," Sven replied, trying to steady his breath. His legs were trembling violently now.

With their opponent now gone, they couldn't help but feel a wave of fatigue. They looked around at the bodies and scorched earth.

But it wasn't over.

Not even close.

Nadya's eyes flicked toward the centre of the port.

The glow of the Messiah was rising, burning, divine, and terrifying.

"We need to help Kai," she said.

Sven groaned, nearly limping as he forced his body forward. "That freak better be fine…"

And then they saw it.

The heat in the air bent the sky.

The pressure made it hard to breathe.

And there was Kai, facing off against a figure wreathed in holy fire.

"What the hell…" Nadya whispered.

Sven clenched his jaw.

"Maybe he is the Messiah after all."

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