What if he just… Pushed harder?
Raizen dropped into his stance. His hands found his blades. The handles were warm from the heat of his palms, the grip worn smooth from months of use. He drew them - both at once, the twin edges clearing their sheaths with a whisper of dark metal and luminite hum.
He closed his eyes and exhaled, fully focusing.
The last of his Eon gathered. Thin, flickering, barely enough to hold. He pushed it into his legs, his core, his arms, his blades - everywhere at once, spread thin, the final embers of a fire that was almost out.
His eyes snapped open.
