Nathan took a hammer strike to his left side trying to slip inside the reach.
BOOOOOM!
The impact folded him sideways and sent him skipping across the broken ground like a stone across water. He hit a concrete barrier, went through it, and came to rest in a pile of broken debris on the other side.
He lay still for a moment.
Everything hurt. That last attack was too strong.
'Get up.'
He pushed himself to one elbow. His left arm wasn't responding cleanly, the fingers slow to close.
He looked down. The sleeve of his gear had burned away from the heat cycling, and beneath it the skin along his forearm was split open, blood running freely down to his wrist.
'Get up.'
One knee first. Then the other. He straightened slowly, breathing through his teeth, and found Tron already walking toward him through the dust with the same unhurried pace as before.
No urgency. No anger. Just a man finishing a job that was nearly done
Nathan raised both arms.
The vents sputtered.
