"Vessels are replaceable. The board is larger than one piece."
The Shadow's voice carried across the lane without effort. Residual darkness clung to the broken warehouses like a second skin. Logan did not waste time answering.
He moved.
The incomplete spatial technique pulled hard. Distance folded. He appeared above the rooftop edge with the SSS-rank sword already descending in a killing arc aimed at the center of the formless shape. For a fraction of a second the blade cut clean through residual darkness—
A golden coin spun through the air toward him.
Logan's eyes widened.
The coin shattered mid-flight exactly the way his own did. Space compressed around him with brutal familiarity. His body was forced sideways by his own technique turned against him. The sword cut empty air. He landed hard on the opposite rooftop, boots scraping broken concrete, the shock of recognition hitting harder than the impact.
The Shadow had used his coin.
His spatial fold.
