She moved. The Second Pillar lunged forward in a straight, ugly rush, whatever discipline had governed her chains before stripped away along with the network. The links no longer moved as a system. They lashed and struck independently, heavy and uneven, driven by raw intent rather than structure. There was no spacing, no layered pressure—just force thrown forward in an attempt to end it before the opening could widen.
Desperation.
Noel didn't step back.
A chain tore through the air toward his chest and he met it head-on, shifting his stance just enough to let the weight glance past rather than crash through him. Another followed immediately, wider and sloppier than before, and he cut across it without ceremony, sparks tearing loose as steel bit into metal.
He felt it then—how exposed she was.
The shard-mana stirred, eager to surge again, but Noel kept it locked down and raised his free hand instead.
"Chain Flash."
