The moment that brief distance opened, it was already closing again.
Lucas did not allow it.
The Ice Belle did not allow it.
Whatever space Dravok had forcefully carved out for himself lasted no longer than a breath before both of them surged forward once more, their presence crashing back onto him with even greater intensity than before.
This time, there was no hesitation left in either of them.
Lucas had already made his decision.
If this battle turned into a contest of endurance, then he would drag it there himself. If Dravok wanted to overwhelm them with raw power, then Lucas would deny him the very foundation needed to sustain that dominance.
No rhythm.
No control.
No time to think.
Only pressure.
Relentless, suffocating pressure.
He moved first.
