Because in that half-second, his attention fractured Victor saw it.
He did not shout.
He did not warn.
He moved.
The strike was not wild.
Victor stepped inside the Supreme's open flank and drove his fist upward into the precise point beneath the ribcage that the Supreme had exposed when he turned.
Not brute force.
Angle.
Compression.
The impact landed deep The Supreme's breath left him in a sharp, involuntary expulsion.
Victor followed immediately, driving a second strike into the side of his jaw with everything Felicity's wild surge had amplified.
Bone cracked like a frozen branch beneath a winter boot.
The sound wet, sharp, final echoed in the sudden silence.
The Supreme staggered sideways, his expression flickering between disbelief and fury. This wasn't happening. Couldn't be happening. Not to him.
His knees betrayed him, folding inward like paper sculptures in rain.
