With eager eyes, Cosmo watched as the pike hurtled towards his target. He had no real expectation of what was going to happen, but that only served to double his anticipation. Cosmo had an interesting manner of conducting himself without any real expectations. He would never expect any given outcome; he did not even view the outcome as probable unless the statistics were distinctly in his favor. Expectation, he reasoned, was an entirely human emotion that spawned from their desire to understand what would happen next. Once he could actually algorithmically calculate everything out, it no longer was necessary for him to have any.
But what happened next genuinely compelled him. The split seconds between the spear and its target seemed to drag on for eternity—his heightened speed allowed him to witness each passing moment with pinpoint clarity. He saw the spear near its target and come within a mere fraction of a second from running him through, before it suddenly reverse its course altogether, flying back in Cosmo’s general direction.
And so did all the debris laying around.
With a feline tilt of his head, Cosmo’s eyebrow darted into the air as the debris rolled past him, impressive given the distance. At that same moment, the pike that had been so graciously hurled at the target was returning to its owner. The vanquished weapon grew slack and slithered back to Cosmo, completely disappearing up his pant leg.
Cosmo did not seem to notice the vanishing act. Casting a curious glance at the intruder's direction, he replayed the burst in his mind. The force that sent his spear chortling back in his direction must have been startling. The strewn debris that came with it seemed to echo his sentiment, and he felt a pang of excitement to think that his opponent had such a curious power. Was it gravity manipulation? Telekinesis? Both? The possibilities galloped through his head, as he weighed out each of them against one another.
Cosmo did not spend too much time in thought. He knew that the blast, though pretty and useful, would not be too effective on him, and he seized the moment to pounce. Even though he did not appear to moving at all, the gap between the two closed rapidly. One hazy distortion field later, Cosmo had zipped across the hundred or so yards between them—as if he was on a mystical platform that shuttled him off towards his destination. Within a few blinks, he was upon his target.
Cosmo’s hand shot forward towards the foe’s chest. Within the time of the strike, his extended fingers seemed to transform into liquid black spikes, fusing together into a single sharp blade. The blade, some inches longer than his normal hand, whooshed through the air towards his opponent’s body, ready to slide effortlessly into his torso.
Time to see just what this intruder could do. |