Julian wiped a cut from his lip and looked to Rafael, who was sweating so hard the metal around him trembled with energy. "You have one big move left," Julian said flatly. "Use it to unbalance him, not to cut his shields. Make him bleed."
Rafael's hands shook. He could feel the drain in his core, the afterburn of his last feats. He swallowed, summoned the last reserve of ferromagnetic will, and locked his gaze on a wedge of wreckage, a chunk of the whale's own carapace fused with metal. He lifted it like a planet and hurled it, a single, massive projectile aimed to slam into Leo's chest just as Julian reopened a rip in the gravity field.
The world seemed to slow as the piece arced. Leo's eyes narrowed with the terrible calm of the ascended. He reared, preparing to meet it head-on.
