Jett was surprised to see Corban prepared for nearly every attack he gave to him and his companion. The darkness was completeley deflected by a shield that had been on his back, breaking it apart into solid particles that returned to him. As he ran toward Corban with the intent to incapacitate, the man suddenly turned his sheathed sword onto him. Launching like a bottle rocket, the sheath suddenly had the kinetic force equivalent to an oncoming train--a train aimed at his chest.

The speed at which he ran toward Corban made it impossible for him to dodge--all he could do was raise his blade up in front of his chest, the strengthened blade taking the brunt of the force from the rocketing sheath. Even with the defense, however, law of physics dictated that he would go flying into the air, sword still in hand. He stared down at his opponent, just in time to see an arc-like blast coming at him from below. Using his telekinesis against himself, Jett was pushed away from the oncoming blast just in the nick of time (He could almost sense the sizzling of his eyebrows from how close he was to death). 

Still in the air, he drew in a shaky breath, in and out, "I've been in the sky at least four times today," He landed once again, scoffing, "And yet you've barely moved." 

He looked down at the ground that was now sullied by marks and craters in the earth. The iron smell of blood and burnt leather exuded from Jett's very being, and yet he still refused to stay down. For the first time in the whole battle, he frowned, "There's a reason I'm here, you know," He spoke through gritted teeth, the sky darkening slightly, "I don't care about the fame, the money--heh, not even the power." 

He exhaled, ignoring the droplets of crimson that were now going into the pavement. He looked into Corban's amber visor for a few moments, then he shut his eyes softly, "I only want my brother back," It was a whisper--the type that was soft, but meant to be heard. 

"Guess I just have to work harder, huh?" His eyes shot open, his grin returning once again. If Corban would look up, he would notice dozens upon dozens of dark black particles now hanging in the sky above him, "I can't let my brother down...even if I really like you, Carbon guy." 

All of the particles began to rain down on his position at the speed of bullets--each one would make small explosions upon impact, cauterizing the bullet wounds but making them much deeper and wider. After all the bullets made their mark, Jett would thrust his sword blade first in the direction of wherever Corban was, "Let's see if you and your anti magic can take this!"