Nebula grinned viciously, his teeth glinting beneath the fractured light.
"So you want to kill me, huh? Why don't you give that a try and see how it goes?"
Cain summoned the {Golden Tyrant} and instantly fired off a spray of golden bullets. The roar of the gun tore through the air like thunder. Each bullet was a shard of molten light, trailing radiant arcs as they screamed toward their target.
With a faint smile, Nebula raised a hand. A storm of blades—razor-thin, flawless, and impossibly fast—spiraled into existence before him. They weaved together into a shifting wall that intercepted every bullet with surgical precision.
Each impact burst into clouds of shimmering gold dust, lighting the air like a sunrise born of war.
However, Cain wasn't done.
The barrels of his guns continued to spit out torrents of magic-saturated light, the runic inscriptions across the weapon's surface glowing hot from the overload.
