The storm resumed before the smoke could even clear.
Cain fired first—three shots in rapid succession, each bullet folding the air around it as it screamed toward Nebula. The blasts turned the scorched plain into molten rivers, shockwaves shredding through the air like sonic blades. Nebula responded with his own barrage, thousands of blades converging into a single massive vortex that consumed the bullets and hurled them back as liquid gold shrapnel.
The two forces met again in the center of the field. The collision birthed a new sun—pure, blinding light that tore through the sky, carving a spiral of clouds into the heavens. Cain staggered back, shielding his face from the inferno that followed, feeling the bite of his own magic sear his skin.
