The converged attack descended on Finn with terrifying might, pressing him like a collapsing star. He immediately tried to angle with the force rather than taking it head on, reducing the brunt of the attack he had to face.
Together with the terrifying might of the wind that blasted around him, roaring to the lounge could barely hear his own thoughts, metal feathers also followed in the wind's wake in a continuous volley. But he still reacted, using his defenses — the adaptive soul mass working at its limit, the ice gauntlets catching many of the metal feather blades-turned-missiles, filling the chamber with continuous shattering.
Through the collective, Finn felt the Eagle's pause. One fraction of a second where its ancient consciousness encountered a result it had no prior reference for.
He latched onto that opening like he'd been waiting for it, using a mad burst of strength to charge through the wind at it.
