The battlefield became a storm. Energy pulsed and cracked across the streets. Illusions and real attacks intertwined. The enemies moved with brutal coordination.
Jovian surged forward. Vital Mirage flowed around him, every strike perfectly timed, every defense instinctive.
Lucien struck relentlessly, Midnight Sontana phasing unpredictably. Alaric countered from all angles. Iggy darted like lightning, hitting points no one expected.
The new Stand user watched from the shadows, assessing. Their presence shifted the dynamics. Every move had to be calculated twice as carefully.
"…Keep pushing," Jovian muttered. "We control this, or it controls us."
Energy exploded in all directions. Dust rose, debris scattered. Every strike reshaped the battlefield.
Nothing was simple. Nothing was safe.