The shadows of the overgrown thicket beneath the bridge were fractured by violent bursts of kinetic light. Violet and jagged gray energies collided, sending shockwaves through the damp earth and shattering the stalks of the surrounding weeds. Malcolm Ford moved like a storm, his heavy boots crushing the mud as he traded blows with Alpha Beron and his two enforcers.
The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the iron tang of blood. Despite the three-against-one disadvantage, Malcolm was a titan. His movements were sharper than they had been only a week ago, his reflexes possessed of a predatory edge that felt almost alien to his own nervous system.
Beron skidded back, his iron rod sparking as he channeled a surge of gray Borderland pressure. He wiped a smear of blood from his jaw, a cruel, mocking grin stretching across his face.
