Borzoi did not move at first.
He simply stood there, his body still smoking faintly from the impact that had just struck him, his posture straightening slowly as if whatever damage he had taken was being forced back into place by something deeper within him. Then, without warning, a change began to spread across his skin, starting from his chest and moving outward, a deep red hue that grew stronger with every passing second until it looked as if his entire body was burning from within.
Maxwell's expression hardened immediately.
So he still has that…
His thoughts sharpened, recalling what he had seen earlier, the state that Borzoi had yet to use, the one they had assumed he might avoid because of the strain it carried. Yet now, standing before him, the man showed no hesitation at all, as if the damage he had just received had pushed him past any need to hold back.
Borzoi exhaled slowly, the breath leaving his mouth like heat escaping from a furnace.
