The Dark Asura surged forward, its mass amplifying mid-stride as its gravity core pulsed at full output. The sudden shift in weight distorted the battlefield around it, pressing down like an invisible mountain.
The move was calculated to trap Damien between a fractured slab of collapsed arena shielding and the crushing pressure zone. The ground beneath cracked and split, debris erupting in jagged bursts as the Dark Asura's rifle-spear sliced through the air in a vicious arc meant to impale.
But Damien was already moving.
He had sensed the gravitational spike a moment before it peaked and adjusted accordingly. His mecha's output surged in perfect synchronization, compensating for the pressure with surgical precision. He did not resist it. He flowed through it.
