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Gunshots rang out in the air.
Dust and rubble littered the area as stomps and shouts pierced the silence of a calm midnight.
Chuuya has always loved the thrill of a fight; the hum of the wind as he cut through air like it was nothing, how it made his heart sing like there was nothing else in the world that mattered like this did, how his skill enveloped any drag that dared pull him down and left him floating effortlessly.
He was a skilled martial artist who excelled in hand-to-hand combat, yes, but there was something else about battling an opponent using his skill that felt different from using a gun or his fists. Not corruption, but simply For The Tainted Sorrow.
Perhaps it was the way it allowed him to deflect any projectile that came his way, whether it was a bullet shot from a handgun or simply a rock thrown at him, he could send it right back to his assailant with the force of objects several tons heavier.
Or it was the atmosphere of the matter, letting his enemies knowing that he should be feared, that he could crush their bodies like fragile tin cans if they got too close and had merely brushed against him? The power that followed his ability and his rank?
Maybe it was the excitement and adrenaline that followed a fight, the floating sensation in his chest amplified by literal floating as his skill lifted him high into the air; how easy it was to just glide through air like he was skating?
Or possibly, the resistance of gravity, the force keeping us tethered to the Earth, from every blade of grass to humans to redwood trees and the seas, the resistance of a power keeping us here. How he could break free from an invisible restraint and shoot off into the starry night sky, crashing down on his foes with the force of a semi-truck, clearing the blood and slime off of his impeccable clothing all the while?
Whatever it was, gravity was a friend. A force to be reckoned with that was his to an extent.
Chuuya takes a deep breath in.
Whatever it was, he would indulge.
He picks a piece of rubble from the ground, and prepares to strike once more.