Tam roared, water exploding outward, slamming into Thorn from every angle.
Spikes shredded his armor, drills gouged his flesh. Thorn staggered, ribs snapping, his armor splintering apart.
His knees buckled, but he refused to fall.
He lunged again, bone claws raking across Tam's torso.
They carved shallow grooves, only for water to surge and knit them closed instantly.
Tam backhanded him, the strike sending Thorn crashing through a broken wall.
The world spun. He tasted blood and dirt in his mouth and his vision wavered.
He couldn't feel his left leg, but he shoved himself upright again, dragging in air through his ruined lungs.
He couldn't stop here.
With a roar that was equal parts defiance and agony, Thorn hurled himself forward again.
He poured charges into his body with reckless abandon, ignoring the tearing muscles and screaming veins.
His speed doubled, then tripled. He blurred across the street, bone spikes lashing like whips.
He and Tam became beasts.
