He wasn't standing still anymore. His body moved with the rhythm of the earth, his legs carrying him with swift, calculated steps. The terrain had shifted beneath his feet, and now he was a blur in motion. Kai darted forward, fast enough that Magnus barely registered the movement. The dust storm still lingered, but it had lost its ferocity, and the air between them was beginning to clear.
Magnus raised his hands, a wave of sound pulsing from his palms, and he sent it straight toward Kai. But Kai was prepared.
He dropped into a low crouch and then exploded upward, his speed a stark contrast to the explosive power of the blast. It was a technique he had learned during his sparring sessions with Aiden—the speed at which light moved had forced Kai to master his own speed, to anticipate and react in a split second. Aiden had drilled him on speed for hours—how to dodge, how to evade, how to turn the tables on a fast opponent.
