Byron lunged and the fog tore open around him.
He did not move like the dead.
The Commander crossed the distance in a way that warped timing and depth, boots pulverizing asphalt as though the world itself bent to accommodate him. Victor barely registered the angle of attack before instinct took over. Fire roared along his wings while ice crystallized along their edges as he launched upward to meet Byron head on.
The collision split the street.
The impact sounded like a detonation. Victor crashed through the rusted shell of a bus, metal screaming as it folded inward around him. Windows exploded. The bus frame twisted like soft tin as Victor tore through it and slammed into the far side of the road.
Byron skidded backward, carving trenches through asphalt before stopping himself with a single heel. He straightened slowly, rolling his shoulders like a man loosening stiff joints.
His eyes locked immediately on Felicity.
Snow Team and Ivan's people moved at once.
