The moment I saw the clock hit this exact second hand, I didn't think much, I didn't have the pleasure to form thoughts.
I yelled and lunged forward, both hands tight on my brand-new sword, the weight of it singing through my bones like I'd been born to swing it.
The blade carved a pale arc through the smoke-choked air, striking into its bark-like flesh with a crackling shrrrkt.
The impact jarred my shoulders, but I grinned like a lunatic as I tightened my hand on this sharp baby that left such a clean cut that Irish people would be proud.
Behind me, Lion's Parade scrambled to catch up after hearing my command of all-hands-on-deck. Their tanks were sturdy enough, but it was painfully obvious that they weren't meant for this kind of close, hyper-aggressive push that were out of their training.
