For a split second, the Berserker hesitated.
Not in his body—his body kept attacking, kept pushing, kept trying to crush Asher—but something in his eyes flickered. A tiny spark of fear. Or memory. Or just confusion.
Asher saw it.
"There you are," he said.
The Berserker roared again, the tubes on his back flashing red, forcing more rage through him. His muscles tensed until they looked ready to snap. He swung another heavy punch at Asher's head.
This time Asher didn't block.
He stepped back, letting the fist cut through empty air. The punch hit the floor instead, smashing it open and sending metal fragments flying.
The Knight shielded his face. "He's going to destroy the whole hallway at this rate!"
"He doesn't care about the hallway," Asher replied, moving calmly around the Berserker's wild swings. "He only knows the command in his head."
The Berserker turned and charged again, grabbing Asher by the shoulders and trying to throw him into the wall.
Asher stood firm.
