Iris struck with the focused fury of a storm breaking. She didn't just intervene; she detonated into the space between Theo and his prey.
Her body became a projectile, slamming into his sword arm with the full, unyielding weight of her momentum. The impact was precise and devastating, a bone-jarring crack echoing through the room as her elbow caught his joint, driving his arm wide.
The ancient Nightwing blade was torn from his grip, clattering across the stone floor with a discordant shriek that sounded like a dying scream.
Theo didn't even have an opportunity to register the failure of his strike before Iris was on him. She drove her knee into the small of his back with enough force to bruise lung tissue, while her forearm locked across his throat like a vise.
She pinned him to the floor with the merciless, mechanical efficiency of a predator who had spent her entire life learning exactly how to break a human being without killing them unless necessary.
