The two forces clashed in the lounge, the palace itself groaning under the weight of their collision. And in the center of it all, Yu Xi stood unyielding, his eerie calm a blade against Thaurion's burning hunger.
The emerald and the gold collided again, two storms dancing in a narrow corridor of air. Yu Xi's teeth grit, but beneath the grit lay a patient, calculating tide. He had learned that restraint could be the sharper blade. He was Eros' descendant, after all, and his power carried the weight of a lineage that demanded more than brute force.
A gust threw Yu Xi toward the window. He crashed through the glass, pain blooming along his forearms, skin scraping against cold stone. The world spilled outward in jagged crescents of neon and night. Through the fracture, Yu Xi saw Thaurion leap after him, their energies snapping like vines around their legs as they tumbled into the palace grounds.
