Hajin braced against the crater slope as Beast King stamped the opening closed and dragged the chain toward the fault. The barbs twisted inside that widened chest wound while both of his enemy's heels fought to hold the feeding crack.
Blood ran along the links while the stolen current kept tearing through his wrist like a saw.
"Come here, you overgrown doormat!" he snarled, hauling a stride back before claws caught a slab and stopped him cold.
His charged fist stayed drawn back beside his ribs, and the glowing core stayed hidden behind a raised, guarding forearm. Anything he threw now would glance off that arm and leave the job unfinished, which was honestly worse than nothing.
The timer kept falling while both of them fought for the same narrow opening.
'He's guarding a wound, not the avenue, so make him pick between barbs and fist.'
