'Damn it. The building's not even slowing him down.'
Julian burst through the far side of a collapsed office block, chunks of pulverized concrete spraying around him. Behind him, the sound of grinding destruction didn't fade—it accelerated. Walls tore apart like wet paper. Steel beams screamed as they were shredded into confetti.
'He's not tracking me. He's just... erasing everything in a radius.'
Julian slid to a halt behind an overturned cargo container, pressing his back against cold, dented metal. His breathing was controlled, even. His mind, however, raced at a frequency no one else could hear.
'This is what desperation looks like when you've already burned your escape routes. He knew he was dead either way. So he chose to become a weapon instead of a corpse. Admirable, in a pathetic sort of way.'
The grinding sound grew louder. Closer. Julian's fingers twitched around his katana's hilt.
'But admiration doesn't win fights.'
