Karate Bastard had been premature in congratulating himself. When the Warden toppled and had been thoroughly pounded, he had assumed the fight was over. It gave him time to catch his breath (though of course a hard man like him wasn't out of breath at all), take stock of the others and make for the exit.

Then the robot had sprang back up and given him a bloody good thrashing, hitting him harder than he cared to admit. Enough to knock the wind of him. Bollocks to that. He would never admit it, but he had been slow to pick himself up, even in the critical moment while the Warden was standing shock-still. Thinking about the next move, maybe. Robots needed to think, right? At any rate, it seemed to direct less fire from its weaponry at him as he struggled to get up. The drongo probably no longer registered him as a threat after the beating it gave him.

A voice sounded in his head, telling him to grab the spinning whips. He shook his head, still groggy, still slow to react. But KB was galvanized into action when he saw the demonic behemoth and the white-skinned giant grab the spinning whips. The smell of ozone filled the air as the two subjected themselves to the crackling electric current. Brave. KB was forced to privately admit that was brave.

He grabbed the nunchaku in his hand, hurled them at the wasp-like waist of the towering robot. The cloth tether wrapped snugly around the axis, hopefully jamming whatever mechanism enabled it to keep spinning around. If his next move didn't pay off, having the Warden no longer spinning about might at least buy the others some time to react. He rushed forwards, already mentally preparing his attack.

There is a theory that every human being carries a certain amount of energy in their body. Call it ley, call it qi, call it whatever you want, but a skilled practitioner can harness this energy, focus it into a certain area, expend it all in a single attack. KB wasn't sure if he believed in qi, if these powerful strikes were better attributed to diligent exercise and muscle control.

No matter what, though, Karate Bastard did believe in the power of the strike he was about to launch. It was forbidden within the tai chi community for its frightening and lethal power, so naturally he utilized it every chance he could. He had used it to split boulders, overturn cars, send men hurtling twenty yards while their hearts exploded inside their chests. He was confident this strike would at least knock free the armor plating on the Warden's chest and leave the power core exposed.

"BUDDHA'S PALM!" Karate Bastard yelled by way of a kiai as he delivered the feared palm strike directly into the Warden's chestplate. All of his strength, physical and spiritual alike, went into this single powerful blow. Temporarily spent, he dropped to his knees, sweat pouring from his body and genuinely out of breath for the moment.