With one swift and powerful motion, No. 5 punched the ground, sending shockwaves rippling across the terrain. The earth itself seemed to shudder beneath the force of his augmented strength.
"Knowing you can't reach me, so you aim for the floor beneath... Not a half bad idea." Winter smirked before launching himself skyward, crystalline shards materializing in the air around him. "Well, you know... if it wasn't against me, that is." His confidence masked a growing concern—No. 5's raw power exceeded his expectations.
Nine razor-thin ice sickles materialized and shot forth like frozen lightning. But No. 5's enhanced reflexes proved formidable; his metallic gauntlets became a blur as he swatted each projectile aside with devastating precision.
"Pathetic..." No. 5 crossed the distance between them in an instant, his massive frame belying impossible speed. His fist connected with Winter's chest, driving him into the ground with bone-crushing force. Winter gasped, pain radiating through every nerve as he struggled for breath.
"Is this the best your division can do? Even with your gift of conjuring ice?" No. 5 towered over Winter's prone form, contempt evident in his voice. "You know, we are aware you didn't always have that ability. In fact, we're still looking into how you obtained that power. But to still be outmatched with it... now that is truly pathetic."
Winter forced himself to stand, each movement an exercise in defiance against his screaming muscles. "I just had to see what I was working with." He rolled his shoulders, settling into a fighting stance that spoke of years of combat training. "Let's do this."
Without hesitation, Winter closed the distance. Despite the considerable size difference, he refused to back down. This wasn't just about survival anymore—it was about proving his worth beyond the ice that now coursed through his veins. Each exchange of blows became a testament to pure martial skill, neither man relying on their enhanced abilities.
The battle of attrition stretched on, both fighters pushing past their limits. After ten grueling minutes, they stood apart, chests heaving with exertion.
"You're not finished, are you?" No. 5 broke the heavy silence.
"Put your dukes up." Winter's response came without hesitation, his stance already prepared for the next exchange.
Their final clash was decisive. Through sheer skill and determination, Winter found the opening he needed. No. 5 dropped to his knees, a smile of recognition crossing his features.
"This... this is the Winter Assassin." Pride and respect mingled in No. 5's voice as he looked up at his victor.
The moment of triumph was brutally short-lived. A single shot rang out across the battlefield, and Winter felt the impact before he heard it—a piercing round punching through his chest with surgical precision. As darkness crept into his vision, he caught a glimpse of a small figure on a distant hill, rifle still trained on his position.
"Mission completed," Number 4's cold voice carried across the radio waves.