Neville's mecha crouched, then leaped. Instead of firing his heel thrusters at full burn, he tapped them just enough kinetic boost to clear the gap between rooftops without scorching the glass.
He landed lightly on the corner of an office tower. His silver-traced charcoal plating shimmered against the daytime skyline like wet ink.
Neville's hands hovered over the thruster trigger.
Energy reserves: eighty-three percent.
Neville couldn't afford to dance through the air again with manual control. It was just too tiring for him. Every full thrust burn would shave a noticeable chunk off his own energy.
What if he suddenly froze mid-execution? That would be bad. After all, he purposely lessened the defense of his mecha to make space for speed.
Let's go with the new plan. Let's leap around and make her thrash around by herself.
Neville's mecha made another maneuver, and he flicked his eyes up.
Lilianna's mecha had cleared the dust cloud and was lining up another beam volley.
