The explosion from their clash faded into a low rumble, like the aftershock of a distant thunderstorm.
Tiny particles of remnant energy lifted lazily from the floor, swirling between them like smoke rising from the battlefield of ancient titans.
Creed and Jarvis stood several feet apart, both silent, both still, both absorbing the shock from the violent rebound of their previous strike.
It was a momentary lull in the chaos, a rare breath of calm before the next inevitable storm.
Their eyes met; one sharp and cold like a honed blade, the other burning with grudging respect. Neither man spoke. Words weren't necessary. Not here. Not now.
Then, with a quiet sigh that somehow carried the weight of a real warrior's pride, Jarvis stood tall and looked Creed in the eye—not like an enemy anymore, but as a fellow combatant worthy of acknowledgment.
