Book 2: Chapter 20: Then Youre Not Trying (1/2)

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.