The new enemies didn't hesitate. They struck as one, coordinated, precise. Their Stands moved in ways Jovian hadn't seen, warping space slightly, bending perception just enough to make every strike uncertain.
Vital Mirage reacted instantly, guarding Jovian from the first flurry. His sword sang with Hamon energy, parrying attacks and creating openings simultaneously.
Lucien darted through shadows, Midnight Sontana phasing to land a surprise strike. Alaric reinforced the center, shielding them from energy bursts that could have shattered the ground. Iggy weaved unpredictably, striking at the edges, forcing the enemy to split attention.
The air shimmered as two forces collided. Energy tore through the city streets. Dust and debris danced violently around them. Every clash rang sharp and heavy, echoing off ruined buildings.
"…Focus on the openings!" Jovian shouted.
Vital Mirage surged, striking exposed points with perfect timing. The enemies faltered for a heartbeat. One brief instant. Enough for Lucien and Alaric to capitalize.
The ground trembled beneath them. The battle was no longer just about attack and defense—it was about survival, instinct, and adaptation.
Every move could end in victory. Or death.