Azula fired from the new position—rapid chain, not spread, tight sequence aimed at single points, the rhythm she was most comfortable with and most dangerous with. The streaks came fast and continuous, each one aimed at a specific location on Silith's body rather than a general area, the rate of fire building from single to double to triple in the space of four seconds—not a barrage but a calibrated pressure, each streak a deliberate choice rather than a volume play.
Silith took them.
She took them the way she had been taking them since the fight began—absorbing and redirecting, using the force to keep moving rather than to stop moving, each hit contributing to the forward momentum she was building across the arena floor. The rapid chain meant more force arriving more frequently. More force arriving more frequently meant she was closing distance faster than she had in the opening phase, the increased input accelerating the mechanism rather than overwhelming it.
Six feet.
