Aku maintained exactly the right distance for a second. He didn't seek to catch his breath or buy time; he used that heartbeat to lock onto the new pattern. The creature was no longer operating within discernible intervals. It chained movements together, adjusting angles and cadence after every contact in a lethal mimicry of his own reflexes. Its armor plates now shifted with electric speed, sealing gaps before the human eye could process them. There was a systemic intelligence in that adaptation—a survival algorithm optimizing itself with every exchange of blows.
He took a short step to the right.
It wasn't an evasive maneuver, but a calculated provocation.
