Francis held the lock for exactly as long as he needed to study them.
Up close — the tendrils were even less natural than they had appeared from a distance.
He released the lock.
The tendrils resumed their strike, the suspended momentum returning all at once, and he was already moving before they completed the motion — sidestepping through space itself .
He wanted to test something first.
Up until now, nothing had truly posed a threat to him. He decided to use this unknown substance as a way to train and refine his newly acquired abilities.
He slowly raised his right hand.
The lightning came much easily now, converging in his palm with little effort. But he was not satisfied.
He increased its intensity and used Lugar's spatial ability to confine it within a sphere. The bolts struck each other repeatedly, building heat with every collision. Slowly, the sphere turned white-hot, its form lost beneath the blinding light.
CRACK!
It struck.
