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Noah then struck Viktor’s elbow, breaking his arm. Viktor screamed and tried to pull away, but Noah silenced him with a jab to the Adam’s Apple. Crippled by pain and struggling to breathe, Viktor desperately swung at Noah with his other burning hand, but just like before, Noah grabbed his arm and then broke it. Noah then slammed his knee into the young man’s solar plexus over and over, not stopping until he was puking blood. He held Viktor by the collar to keep him upright, and from there, the punches began, Noah’s fist striking Viktor’s face with rapid speed and crushing force, splattering blood and disfiguring flesh. Noah had pummeled Galvin the same way in their duel, moving his arm like a piston.

Sarah wrapped her arms around his bicep, thick with muscle from lifting and working in his day-to-day job. She laced her fingers through the curly hairs on his arm, locking herself into her favourite position. Her face rested on the sleeve of his white work polo, the textured fabric rubbing against her cheek. She glanced up to her dad’s face, the light of the TV playing across his stubbled face and exhausted expression. He was barely paying attention, mostly zoning out after his long day. She nuzzled closer to him and breathed deeply. Besides being close to her dad, another reason Sarah loved these nightly cuddles was being able to smell her dad. Even after a long day of work, he never seemed to smell bad, and in fact it mostly enhanced his musk. It was hard to describe, but it was mostly smoky, with some savoury notes as well, something like a campfire meal she always thought. It was hearty and comforting to her and always made her feel better no matter what sort of day she had.

After taking a solid punch to the jaw, Ingram pulled away, needing time to recover. He turned from Roc and dove into the city, trying to open up some distance. Roc chased him through Colbrand, the warriors flying down the city streets and kicking up dust clouds. Pedestrians shrieked and ducked out of the way as they were hit by the resulting pressure waves, with the wake behind the fighters slamming like a hurricane gale.