[h3][color=efcc00]Archer “Griff” Griffin[/color][/h3][hr]The Mirage Space pressed in around him like a cage. His chest still burned, his arms still shook, and the gauntlets clung to him like iron weights chained to rage itself. He couldn’t let it go. Couldn’t come down. Not yet. Not when his blood still screamed for more.

And then Wu Shufen stepped into view.

That smug face, that damned staff, still standing, still breathing. The sight alone was enough to tear open every raw nerve inside Griff. His vision tunneled, the edges blurring into nothing but black and red. His heartbeat pounded like war drums. His gauntlets dragged every emotion up to the surface until it all blurred into fury.

He didn’t wait. Didn’t think.

With a roar, Griff launched himself forward, boots slamming against the ground hard enough to rattle the space itself. His fists came up, and then they fell, not in one clean strike, but in a storm. A flurry. Left, right, low, high, again and again, each swing driven by everything boiling inside of him. Every blow was a demand, a punishment, a refusal to stop.

Steel met air with the sound of thunder as he threw himself into the Monkey King, gauntlets flashing like the teeth of some rabid beast. His shoulders burned but he didn’t care. All that mattered was breaking the enemy in front of him, beating him until there was nothing left to stand against.

Whether his fists found flesh, bone, or nothing at all, Griff didn’t notice. He didn’t want to notice. He just wanted to swing until the he couldn't anymore.