Stonic moved immediately—not toward Tyra, toward the arena perimeter.
His hands came up and the magnetic field extended outward, sweeping across the arena floor in a wide pulse that found everything metallic in the environment and catalogued it in the fraction of a second the pulse took to travel and return. The arena had metallic fixtures—brackets in the walls, the reinforced edges of the floor sections, the structural supports visible at the base of the barrier running around the fighting area. Not weapons. Not debris. The permanent architecture of the space, never designed to be used this way. Stonic had looked at the floor when he walked out of the tunnel. He had been looking at it when he stood at his starting position. He had been building the map before the fight began.
He began pulling.
