Karnag's body shifted.
No signal, no windup, no flashy glow—just raw, primal movement. One second he was staring Galen down, and the next, his foot tore through the earth, sending chunks of soil and dust spiraling backward as his massive frame blitzed forward. The ground trembled beneath his step, cracks webbing out from his pressure.
But Galen didn't move nor even blink as his red eyes, bored and half-lidded, locked onto Karnag with all the urgency of a man watching grass grow.
And then—BOOM!
Karnag's fist came crashing down, like a meteor. His knuckles split the air with a sound like a thunderclap, aimed to reduce Galen to a smear in the dirt. But—
Whoosh.
Galen stepped sideways. Just one casual step. The punch missed him by a hair, the force of it creating a concave dent in the ground that hissed with heat from the sheer friction.
"You're slow," Galen muttered, his tone dry like he was commenting on the weather.
