He was eight feet from Tyra.
She extended both chains at close range—not outward, around, the close-range orbit configuration she had used to finish the fight against Stonic. Both chains going in opposite directions around Tyke's position, arcing behind him, meeting at his back.
Tyke tagged.
Hip gesture—right here, eight feet from Tyra, both chains about to complete their orbit.
The snap fired.
He reappeared at his most recent previous tag—the position he had been in before the diagonal movement, the far side of the chain web.
The chains completed their orbit around the empty space where he had been.
He was out.
But the cooldown was now real—three snaps in close succession, the accumulated cost sitting in his legs as something heavier than fatigue, the ability requiring more recovery time than it had at any previous point in the fight.
And Tyra was already moving toward his current position.
