Hours of fighting had drained every ounce of energy. Every muscle ached, every nerve burned. Yet they pressed forward.
Vital Mirage moved in perfect harmony with Jovian, anticipating threats and exploiting openings. Each strike was sharp. Each defense was precise.
Lucien darted along the edges, Midnight Sontana striking like a phantom. Alaric held firm, countering multiple enemies simultaneously. Iggy moved unpredictably, striking in moments the enemies couldn't anticipate.
The enemies responded, relentless. Their Stands adapted to patterns, countered with blinding speed, and warped space around attacks.
"…This is it," Jovian whispered. "Push everything we've got."
Vital Mirage surged forward with energy crackling along its form. Every hero followed instinctively. Every attack converged. The battlefield fractured under their combined force.
For the first time, the enemies faltered. Their coordination wavered. Their control slipped. Just a fraction—but enough.
Jovian gritted his teeth. "Now, we finish this."