[Space]
Grimm stood motionless atop a fragment of meteorite. His towering frame remained completely still, his helmet reflected nothing as he loosely adjusted his grip on his sword, in the next second he caught movement.
A disturbance rippled across space.
A comet tore through the black—an amalgamation of force, spiraling with hellish hues, it screamed toward him.
The General did not flinch.
He pivoted his foot ever so slightly—the subtlest of movement, barely more than a sigh through metal—and let his body drift to the side, allowing the searing comet to pass him by.
The attack thundered past with a flare of blinding light, illuminating space. For a single, breathless instant, the dead meteor shard shimmered in borrowed light, and Grimm's long red hair whipped gently behind him from the force.
Comets exploded in the far distance, vanishing into a splatter of scattered energy.
He turned.
His opponent hovered before him—seething.
