One week since the Clockwork Arboretum. Seven days of bruises, broken equipment, and Braxton's disappointed sighs.
The Onyx Hounds training grounds looked like a warzone. Because it was.
Raphael's fist connected with Marco's jaw. Marco's palm caught Raphael's chest. The resulting shockwave sent both of them tumbling backward, carving trenches in the dirt as they skidded to a stop.
"That all you got, firework?" Marco grinned through a split lip.
"I'm just warming up, meathead." Raphael's hands crackled with barely contained energy.
They charged at each other again.
Carmen watched from her spot on a crumbling stone wall, a bottle in one hand and her synth-cigarette in the other. Her single eye tracked the brawl with the lazy interest of someone who'd seen this exact fight approximately forty-seven times before.
"Ten bucks on the idiot," she announced to no one in particular.
