The impact was not a collision of matter but a collision of existence.
As the shards tore into him, Rex's mind became a battlefield where biology fought against mathematics. His Full Potential Adaptation didn't just observe; it attacked.
The moment each fragment touched his aura, the adaptation latched onto its unique frequency. It ran a frantic, hyperaccelerated analysis on every fragment's mechanism as they screamed toward him.
The analysis for each completed in microseconds the exact time required to decode the complexity of the temporal wound, and with each completion, the adaptation's coverage expanded, swallowing the fragment's implementation class into its own arsenal.
But the cost of that analysis was paid in flesh and blood.
Rex was bleeding. But it wasn't the clean spray of a blade's cut.
As the fragments' temporal authority pierced his personal timeline during those microsecond analysis windows, his very cells became confused.
