[i]“Fine, have it your way then.”[/i]

The drills touched, their rotational forces spinning rapidly against one another – trying to find purchase and some form of weakness where none could be found. Thank God they were magic, or the sound of them would be deafening. Even still, there was the hint of a shrill sound of metal-on-metal ringing through the madness of the fight. The factory, now fully alerted, shut down operations and many machines ground to a halt as the little orange men filed out and ran to emergency exits. Many died in the rush of them trying to escape, many more died from the explosion of power happening in the courtyard. He felt a change, a shift – and he knew the other was coming for him, even as his own feet were carrying him forward. 

The drills disintegrated, and as the final black shape disappeared under the force of pressure from the other side. The storm broke apart, and his eyes caught sight of an overhand right. He tried to avoid it but only succeeded in lessening the blow as the massive-feeling fist slammed into the side of his head, roughly around his cheek. The force the punch nearly took him off his feet, rocking him slightly to the side – his right hand flung out, shadows pushing against the ground to keep his footing. Quick as lightning, his right hand moved from that position – destined to land an uppercut with enough force to send the man flying back to where he came from. 

[i]“You want the real fight, you’re about to get it.”[/i]