The conflict that takes place is an abstract representation. We are /not/ on a field of ruins, no patchwork quilt of a dozen landscapes and one bombed-out fallout shelter repeated a hundredfold.

	These figures standing within it- one a man sculpted out of black and metal, a person like living gold- visible only in the places where it shines through the coating of darkness placed over his body. The other is a shattered-man- a creeping, frightening avatar of insanity, made of knives and of shards, body constantly humming as if it broadcasts a signal- or as if it could explode at any second.

	They do not exist.

	They stalk one another, nonetheless, across this non existent battlefield. One slips from place to place, moving languidly, like silk gliding on air. The other stalks like a predator, its movements fierce and agitated.

	"Something is here," says the predatory being, the broadcast-shard, snapping at the shadows, wringing its edges together. As it goes, it climbs the trees and snaps around the concrete corners, causing gouges and scrapes wherever it moves. "Isn't it? Is it? Is something here? Can I hear something? Can I hear someone? Come out, come out! I need to see you! I HAVE to see you!"

	"No, I cannot be seen," states the living golden shadow, his voice as simple as a lecturer stating fact. Even as the broadcast shard twists its head this way and that, the golden shadow's movements are agile and dexterous, a calm and delicate walk.

	Each is hunting the other equally.

	This is the conceit- they are the powers of Ren and Jack, a meta-natural duel that is not happening. If you needed to, this is the abstraction you would make- these two men in a conflict of seeker versus sneaker.

	"Is something there?"
	If the shardy man gets the advantage, then Jack becomes aware of the man a shadow's width away from him.

	"Nothing is there."
	If the travelling shadow gets the advantage, then Ren stays close enough to /do what he needs to/.

	And this is how it goes: they move, through pine and hill, over corridor and stream, through blast door and cable. Remember, none of these nouns exist. Whenever they turn the corner, the other is not there. By the time they reach a plant or water, any shake or ripple has ceased. They never meet eyes, they never touch. One, the subconscious, patrols for threats the conscious mind cannot react to while it's busy with Tomoyo Daidouji. One, the stalker, evades that patrol.

	'He' that is Ren does not intend to 'sneak up behind' the broadcaster; he carries no knife, club, or such weapon. All he has to do is stay out of 'sight'; all he needs to do is keep harassing and leading and infuriating and occupying. They are dueling, but it is the duel of distance- of feints and defense, of always being one jump ahead.

	The gold shadow is moving up behind the living knife, walking out of the shadows on a man who isn't aware he's not alone. He-that-is-Ren's-power only needs to reach out and close the distance and the advantage will be his.

	He raises his hand, and silently makes his finishing gambit--
	"Oh. Hello. I'm here."