"Enough talk—"
A fist slammed into Francis before his trajectory reading could even register it. He still managed to barely cross his arms in time, but the impact sent him skidding back.
His guard tightened instantly as he studied his opponent.
Vance's skin burned with a green aura, light pulsing off him. What remained of his clothing clung in torn strips, barely holding over the mass of muscle pushing beneath it.
Francis could feel the overwhelming pressure coming off his opponent. It wasn't as sharp as Lex's, but it was heavy.
'How did he—'
His trajectory reading failed again. No warning. No pattern.
So he relied on his other talent—vibration sense—to get a general idea of where the attack would come.
Francis turned just in time to block it, but the force still sent him skidding back twelve steps across the ground.
'He's faster and stronger than I expected.'
