Rook's new form resisted the cutting power of Joshua's threads, the material dense enough to withstand the pressure.
While the threads strained to sever his body into different parts, his arms shifted, matter flowing like liquid to reshape themselves into blades.
His elbows to his fingers were now long blades made from the same material as the threads and he sliced clean through them.
The threads snapped with sharp pinging sounds, unraveling around him, and Rook exploded forward, collapsing the distance between them in an instant, and he swung.
Joshua weaved backward, the blade missing his face by millimeters, but not quite. A thin line of blood appeared on his cheek, bright red against his skin. And in that moment Joshua's bored expression vanished.
His eyes widened slightly, his hand moving to touch the blood, and when he pulled his fingers back and saw it, something changed. The air around him felt heavier now.
