Ethan's body vanished into the electric glare.
Transparent lightning tightened around the willow-covered man, contracting again and again. It snagged his legs first, then climbed up his waist, abdomen, shoulders, and back.
Every arc carried power that could tear space open. Wherever it passed, the air snapped with fine, rapid detonations. Metal fragments on the deck were yanked up—then ground into dust midair.
But the willow man just stood there.
The transparent lightning struck him and still couldn't split his body apart. It couldn't even shatter the drooping willow strands.
Electric light burst across his shoulders and chest, spitting a few short-lived sparks before being blocked by that bizarre energy coating his skin.
The willow branches swayed gently, barely even singed.
Ethan's brow sank.
He didn't keep wasting power the same way. Riding the recoil of his own lightning, he pulled back a few steps.
