Kaito clicked his fingers.
"Let's equalize."
He launched forward again.
And Seul?
She stepped into the storm.
Their collision this time wasn't silent.
It was thunder.
The sound rolled through the arena like an avalanche—not just loud, but layered, deep, like the space around them was cracking under the strain of their clash. Dust burst from the ground in concentric waves as pressure exploded outward from the center of impact.
Kaito's gravitational field expanded, warping the very air between them. Shimmering lines bent like glass, swallowing light, dragging the terrain into slight curves. The arena dipped where he stepped, each movement leaving a brief imprint of weight so heavy it bruised the stone.
Seul's feet skidded back across the fractured arena floor.
Her brows furrowed. She gritted her teeth and flicked both wrists—gravity shifted midair, and she launched herself sideways, rebounding off the curve of one of Kaito's fields with an explosive twist.
