The early evening air was thick with tension, the faint sounds of city life humming below the rooftop where the group gathered. The remains of Clappy Cheeks' swarm still buzzed somewhere far off, confused and leaderless. Lauri stood at the edge of the roof, staring down at the dark figure of Clappy's lifeless body sprawled on the sidewalk. Her heart hammered in her chest, a cocktail of relief and horror swirling through her veins.

  Josh touched her shoulder, bringing her back to the moment. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.

  She nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah... just, didn't think it'd go like that."

  "None of us did," Josh replied, glancing around the group. William Dangerfield leaned against a metal railing, arms crossed, while Lojan Mackimee twirled his finger around a tiny storm cloud he'd somehow conjured, a bemused grin on his face. Vlad Ivanov stood slightly apart, the ever-present cigarette dangling from his lips as he watched the street below with a careful eye.

  "We need to move," Vlad muttered, voice rough with smoke. "Clappy was just one of them. There could be more."

  Josh nodded. "Right. Let's get—"

  A sudden gust of wind tore through the rooftop, nearly knocking everyone off their feet. Josh stumbled backward, squinting against the gale. From above, a figure descended slowly, riding the winds with an eerie grace, his clothes flapping wildly. Johnny Windsurfer. His grin was wide, almost manic.

  "Aw, you guys look so cozy up here," he called out, his voice somehow carrying over the roar of the wind. "Mind if I join?"

  Before anyone could react, Johnny inhaled deeply and exhaled with a force that felt like a freight train slamming into them. Josh was flung backward, crashing into a metal door with a loud clang. The ticket flew from his hand, fluttering like a dying bird before Johnny snatched it from the air.

  "Gotcha!" Johnny crowed triumphantly. "Thanks for keeping it warm for me."

  Lauri shot a bolt of electricity at Johnny, who twisted mid-air, dodging it effortlessly. "Oh, feisty one!" he laughed. "But you'll have to do better than that, sweetheart."

  William Dangerfield's hands glowed with a silver sheen as he manipulated the metal pipes around them, launching them like javelins toward Johnny. But the winds shifted again, and Johnny spiraled around them with ease, twisting and spinning through the air like a leaf in a hurricane.

  "Damn it, he's too fast!" William growled.

  Josh, dazed, pushed himself up from where he'd been thrown. His head throbbed, and his vision blurred, but he could see Johnny preparing another gust, this one aimed straight at him. "Josh!" Lauri screamed.

  He braced himself just as the wind hit him like a sledgehammer, throwing him off his feet and sending him flying across the rooftop. He crashed into a telephone pole with a sickening crack. The world went dark.

  Lauri watched in horror as her brother crumpled to the ground, unconscious. She could feel the anger boiling inside her. "You son of a—"

  Johnny landed on the rooftop with a light, bouncy step, the ticket gripped tightly in his hand. "Oh, come on now, no need for insults," he taunted. "I'm just here for a little fun. And a lot of cash." He turned on his heel and sprinted toward the edge of the roof.

  Lauri's fingers twitched, ready to unleash another electrical attack, but Johnny was too fast. He reached the edge and leaped, riding the wind like a surfer catching a wave, the ticket fluttering in his hand.

  "No!" she screamed, rushing forward. But it was too late. Johnny Windsurfer was already gliding through the air, making his escape.

  William turned to Lojan, his eyes wide. "Can you catch him?"

  Lojan shrugged, his grin never wavering. "I mean, I could jump, but... I don't feel like dying today. Again."

  Lauri's heart pounded in her ears. She could still see Johnny, now a small dot against the skyline, the ticket that represented everything they'd fought for slipping further away with each second. Her eyes flicked back to her unconscious brother, and she felt a surge of determination. "We need to catch him," she muttered.

  William nodded, a steel resolve settling in his eyes. "Then let's go."

  Johnny Windsurfer sprinted through the busy streets, dodging between startled pedestrians, the stolen ticket clenched tightly in his fist. He was grinning, wind whipping around him like a protective barrier, sending leaves, papers, and loose hats flying in every direction. Behind him, he heard distant shouts, but he didn't slow down—didn't dare to look back. He needed to get somewhere enclosed, somewhere they couldn't track him so easily. His eyes darted around, searching, until he spotted it: the New City Aquarium.

  He veered sharply to the right, nearly slipping as his shoes skidded on the wet pavement. He caught his balance with a quick exhale of wind that propelled him forward, right through the revolving doors of the aquarium. The lobby was dimly lit, the soothing blue light of the tanks casting watery shadows across the floor. Perfect. He could lose them in here.

  He kept moving, ducking around a group of tourists gathered around a massive tank filled with jellyfish, their ethereal bodies drifting lazily in the water. Johnny glanced around, satisfied that he was out of sight. He slid behind a row of vending machines, catching his breath. "They'll never find me in here," he muttered to himself, a grin stretching across his face.

  But just as he was starting to relax, he heard it—a faint whistling, getting louder. Then a voice, light-hearted and mocking: "Johnny! Oh, Johnny Buttsurfer, where are you, buddy?"

  Johnny's smile faltered. "No, it can't be..."

  Lojan Mackimee sauntered into view, hands in his pockets, looking around casually as if he were just out for a stroll. He wore that same infuriating grin that never seemed to leave his face. "Johnny, Johnny," Lojan sang in a teasing tone. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

  Johnny felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. How had Lojan found him so quickly? He pressed himself harder against the vending machine, hoping somehow to melt into the shadows.

  Lojan stopped in front of the massive shark tank, his eyes scanning the room. "Johnny Windsurfer!" he called again, louder this time. "Or should I say, Johnny... Buttsurfer?"

  Johnny winced. "I swear, if he says that one more time..."

  Lojan turned suddenly, as if sensing Johnny's presence. "You know," he continued, "It's a pretty stupid name when you think about it. Buttsurfer? Come on, dude, what kind of parents did you have?"

  Johnny felt his face flush. He stepped out from his hiding spot, glaring at Lojan. "You think you're funny?" he spat. "You think you can just mock my name like that?"

  Lojan's grin widened. "Oh, absolutely. I mean, come on... 'Windsurfer?' You're practically begging for it. What's next, Johnny? Gonna tell me your favorite band is the Butthole Surfers?"

  Johnny's glare turned to confusion. "Actually... yeah, they are," he replied, defensively. "I've been a fan for years. They're like, totally underrated."

  Lojan blinked, caught off guard for just a split second. Then he burst out laughing. "Wow, that's... I gotta admit, that's actually kind of fitting. But hey, don't get too comfortable. You've still got something that belongs to us."

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Johnny sneered, holding up the ticket. "This? You want this?" He turned on his heel and ran deeper into the aquarium.

  Lojan's smile faded, and his eyes narrowed. "Oh, you're not getting away that easy," he muttered, and he broke into a sprint.

  Johnny pushed through a door marked "Employees Only," skidding to a stop in front of a massive glass tank filled with colorful tropical fish. He glanced over his shoulder, but before he could take another step, Lojan's foot connected with his back in a powerful kick, sending him crashing through the glass.

  The tank shattered with a tremendous crash, water gushing out, soaking the floor and cascading over both of them. Fish flopped helplessly around Johnny as he scrambled to his feet, sputtering.

  Lojan stood over him, drenched but smiling. "Looks like it's just you and me now, Buttsurfer," he said.

  Johnny coughed, shaking the water from his hair. "You really think you can take me down, Mackimee?"

  Lojan shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. But at least I'll have fun trying." His grin widened. "Now, are we gonna do this, or are you gonna keep yammering about your terrible taste in music?"

  Johnny's eyes narrowed. "You're gonna regret that, clown."

  Lojan chuckled. "We'll see about that, Buttsurfer. We'll see."

  The tension between them crackled in the air like static electricity, both of them poised for the next move.

  Johnny Windsurfer steadied himself, pushing off the shattered glass and drenched tiles. The aquarium lights flickered overhead, casting wild, distorted shadows across the room. Lojan Mackimee was already advancing, his grin as wide as ever, a predatory gleam in his eyes. The broken tank behind him poured water onto the floor, the colorful fish flopping helplessly in the expanding puddle. Johnny felt a flash of anger and clenched his fists.

  "You think this is a joke?" Johnny growled, inhaling deeply. He unleashed a powerful blast of wind from his lungs, sending glass shards and stray bits of debris flying toward Lojan.

  But Lojan barely flinched. He simply let the wind push him back a few steps, grinning all the while. "Oh, that tickles!" he laughed, his body rolling with the force of the wind as if he were enjoying it. "Come on, Buttsurfer! Show me what you've got!"

  Johnny's eyes narrowed. His breath attack should have blown Lojan through the wall, but the guy just wouldn't stay down. He inhaled again, this time exhaling with a bone-chilling coldness. A frosty mist filled the air, the temperature in the room plummeting. The water on the floor began to freeze, forming a slick layer of ice beneath Lojan's feet.

  Lojan skidded but kept his balance, his reflexes sharp and his movements almost playful. "Ooh, chilly!" he quipped, still grinning. "I always wanted to skate with Buttsurfer!"

  Johnny charged, his fists ready to swing. Lojan dodged the first punch with an unpredictable sideways roll, then ducked under the second. Johnny swung again, but Lojan twisted his body at an impossible angle, letting the punch sail harmlessly by.

  "Too slow!" Lojan teased, spinning around with a flourish. "You've gotta be quicker if you wanna hit me!"

  Johnny's frustration mounted. Lojan wasn't just dodging—he was dancing around every attack as if they were in some ridiculous choreographed routine. And he seemed completely unfazed by any injuries. His movements were erratic, his body twisting and turning in ways that defied any sense of logic. It was like fighting a cartoon character.

  Johnny spat. "What's your deal, Mackimee? You don't care if you get hurt?"

  Lojan shrugged. "Why would I? I'll just heal up. That's the beauty of being me!" He lunged forward suddenly, catching Johnny off guard, and landed a quick jab to Johnny's side.

  Johnny grunted, stumbling back a step. He retaliated with a burst of air, sending Lojan flying back, but the immortal man landed smoothly on his feet, unharmed and still grinning like a maniac.

  "Come on, Buttsurfer, I thought you wanted that island!" Lojan taunted, circling him with an unpredictable swagger. "You're gonna have to try harder than that if you want to buy it with a winning ticket!"

  Johnny's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, everything around him seemed to slow down. The water freezing on the floor, the fish gasping for air, the distant sounds of the aquarium alarms—all faded into the background. His thoughts drifted back to a memory he hadn't visited in years.

  Flashback:

  Johnny was eight years old, sitting at the tiny kitchen table in their cramped apartment. The place smelled of burnt toast and cheap coffee. His father, a grizzled man with tired eyes and a permanent frown, sat across from him, reading a crumpled newspaper. His father barely ever looked up, always buried in his own world of worries.

  "Dad," Johnny had said, clutching a crayon drawing in his small hands. "When I grow up, I'm gonna be rich. I'm gonna buy a big house and a yacht and an island! And you won't have to worry anymore!"

  His father had snorted, not even glancing at the drawing. "Everyone's got dreams, Johnny," he muttered, his voice low and tired. "But some dreams are just that—dreams."

  Johnny had frowned, his small hands tightening around the paper. "But why, Dad? Why can't I be rich?"

  His father finally looked up, his expression hard, his eyes filled with a resignation that Johnny didn't understand at the time. "Because some people are born into the bottom, Johnny. And some people stay there. Society's already decided our place, and unfortunately, our place is at the very bottom."

  Johnny remembered the sting of those words, how they had crushed his childhood dreams like an ant beneath a boot.

  Back in the present, Johnny shook his head, clearing the memory away. He glared at Lojan with renewed determination. "You think this is a joke?" he yelled, his voice echoing through the aquarium.

  Lojan paused, raising an eyebrow. "Well, yeah. But that doesn't mean I'm not having fun."

  Johnny gritted his teeth. "I'm gonna prove him wrong," he muttered, almost to himself. Then, louder: "I'm gonna prove everyone wrong!"

  He inhaled deeply, feeling the air fill his lungs, ready to unleash everything he had.

  Lojan smirked, raising his fists. "Bring it, Buttsurfer. Show me what you're made of."

  And with that, the fight began again in earnest.

  The air crackled with tension as the battle raged on. Johnny Windsurfer's breath cut through the room like a razor-sharp gale, sending chairs, tables, and even chandeliers flying. Lojan Mackimee, bruised and grinning, danced through the chaos with a reckless unpredictability that was almost unnerving. He didn't care about the bruises already forming on his arms or the gash across his cheek—every hit, every blow, every new wound just made him laugh harder.

  Windsurfer wheezed and repositioned himself, inhaling deeply, preparing to unleash another icy gust. Lojan watched him closely, eyes alight with mischief. He couldn't die—he had that much going for him—but winning this fight required more than just regeneration. It required thinking like someone who had nothing to lose.

  Lojan's eyes darted around, surveying the chaotic battlefield. Amongst the debris scattered around the hotel dining room, his gaze locked onto a steel food tray. "That'll do," he muttered under his breath. He darted forward, dodging another of Windsurfer's frigid blasts, snatching up the tray as he moved.

  "Try this on for size, Buttsurfer!" Lojan yelled, leaping into the air and hurling the tray with all his might. The metal disk sliced through the air like a thrown frisbee, heading straight for Windsurfer's midsection.

  Windsurfer scoffed, ready to blast it away with a gust, but he had underestimated the speed. The tray hit him square in the stomach with a loud clang, doubling him over and sending him stumbling back. The force knocked the wind out of him, and he gasped, his breath momentarily stolen by the blow.

  Lojan sprinted toward him, grabbing the Power Lottery ticket that Windsurfer had tucked into his waistband. He waved it in the air triumphantly. "Got it!" he shouted, grinning wide. "Gotta say, Windy, you were a strong adversary. Respect."

  He turned to walk away, the grin never leaving his face. "Guess this means I'm one step closer to—"

  A powerful gust hit him from behind like a freight train, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into the nearest wall. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through his body, but Lojan's smile didn't waver; if anything, it grew wider. The ticket slipped from his fingers and went flying through the air, fluttering like a leaf caught in a storm.

  Johnny Windsurfer, back on his feet and breathing heavily, stood amidst the debris, eyes narrowed with determination. "I'm not done yet," he growled, teeth gritted. "I'm never done."

  Lojan chuckled through the pain, watching the ticket twirl and twist in the air, moving just out of reach. "Alright," he said softly to himself. "Round two it is."

  Lojan Mackimee staggered back to his feet, his body battered and bruised, but his grin still intact. Blood trickled from a fresh cut on his forehead, mixing with the sweat that coated his face. Johnny Windsurfer stood across from him, his chest heaving as he sucked in deep, ragged breaths. His cold eyes were focused, determined. The air around them was charged with tension, filled with the echoes of their ongoing battle.

  Johnny exhaled with a powerful gust, sending another burst of wind crashing toward Lojan. It slammed him against the wall, but Lojan just laughed through the pain. "That all you got, Buttsurfer?" he taunted. "I've been hit harder by my grandma!"

  Johnny's face twisted into a scowl, and he drew in a massive breath, preparing for another attack. Lojan lunged forward, closing the gap between them with surprising speed. They traded blows, Lojan's fists moving like lightning, while Johnny countered with his powerful gusts of air and icy breaths. Each punch and blast sent ripples through the air, shattering the remnants of the room around them.

  Lojan felt his body getting heavier with each strike. Every muscle screamed in protest, every bone felt like it was about to snap, but he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. He was immortal, after all, but that didn't mean he didn't feel the pain. Each hit felt like a hammer to his ribs, his skull, his heart. Yet, he couldn't help but admire Johnny's tenacity. No matter how many hits he took, Windsurfer kept coming back for more.

  Finally, Lojan collapsed onto the floor, his chest heaving. Johnny stood over him, breathing heavily but still standing tall, his eyes filled with triumph. "Guess that's it for you, huh?" Johnny sneered.

  But Lojan's grin widened even further, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Not quite," he whispered.

  Before Johnny could react, Lojan flicked his wrist, sending a small, concealed knife flying through the air. The blade shimmered as it cut through the room's dim light, embedding itself in Johnny's throat. His eyes widened in shock as he clutched at his neck, a gurgled scream escaping his lips. Blood poured down his chest, and his breaths came out in desperate, rasping gasps.

  Lojan struggled to his feet, every inch of his body aching. He leaned against a broken table, watching as Johnny stumbled, the life fading from his eyes. "You were like me, Windsurfer," Lojan said softly, almost sadly. "No matter what, you could never give up. I can respect that."

  Johnny Windsurfer collapsed onto the floor, his hands still clutching the knife in his throat. His breaths came slower and slower, his body shaking as he fought against the inevitable. Then, finally, his eyes closed, and he lay still.

  Lojan stood over him, panting, his expression a mix of exhaustion and admiration. "You earned something today," he murmured. "Something most don't get from me—respect."

  The door burst open, and Josh Cruise, Lauri Cruise, and William Dangerfield rushed into the room. Josh's eyes widened as he took in the scene, his face a mixture of shock and concern. "Lojan, what the hell happened?" Josh shouted.

  Lauri looked between Lojan and Johnny's still body on the floor, her face pale. "Is he...?" she asked quietly.

  Lojan nodded, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. "Yeah. He's gone. But he was tough, one of the toughest I've fought. Never backed down, even when he knew he was beat." He looked down at Johnny's lifeless body, a flicker of respect in his eyes. "He was like me in that way."

  Josh stared at Lojan, then at Johnny. "We've got the ticket," he finally said, his voice low. "But at what cost?"

  Lojan turned, his grin returning despite the pain etched across his face. "The cost of knowing you've faced a true fighter," he replied. "And sometimes, that's all the reward you need."

  The room fell silent, filled only with the sound of labored breathing and the distant hum of the hotel's failing lights. Outside, the storm continued to rage, the wind howling in mourning for the man who had fought till his very last breath.

  To be continued...