Deacon opened his mouth to speak again. But Finn wasn't about to allow that.
With fury, he urged his divine essence, uncaring of the meager amount left. If he could kill one of these traitorous bastards, it would be worth it. He stacked a chain of invalidations, focusing his intent on Deacon's words that were about to be spoken.
Immediately, the air grew heavy. Deacon strained visibly to speak, as if he could sense the life-threatening backlash he would experience if he did.
The divine essence burned through Finn like acid, eating away at what little remained. His mask flared brilliant green, so bright it cast shadows in the apocalyptic chamber.
"Your opponent is me!" Casmir snarled and clapped both hands together with a thunderous slam in Finn's direction, releasing a wave of pure spatial chaos that Finn had no choice but to face head-on, giving Deacon the leeway to cast his declaration.
