As he flew through the air—still smug, still wearing that same infuriatingly confident grin—the masked figure seemed utterly convinced of his untouchability.
Marcus smirked from the ground, loosening his grip on his twin daggers.
"Think I'm that dumb…?" he said, a laugh bubbling up from his chest, sharp and full of heat.
"Huh…?" the masked figure muttered, his voice cutting through the wind as he remained airborne, head cocking in momentary confusion.
Then, with a sudden burst of motion, Marcus hurled both daggers skyward—his arms snapping out like coiled springs. Lightning-infused runes flared to life along the hilts, crackling with volatile energy.
The daggers shot forward, trailing arcs of azure lightning, whistling as they cut through the air.
Predictably, the figure moved—his body twisting, bending unnaturally as he slipped between the projectiles. Once again, he danced like water across stone.
