The impact between the two produced not just a shockwave—it produced resistance. Not in the physical sense, but in the concept of combat. For the first time since the beginning of the confrontation, Vergil felt something that wasn't simply inferior opposition being overcome; there was a return. There was a response. Angelo's fist didn't just meet his—it lingered there for an instant longer than it should have, sustaining the collision as if trying to comprehend, absorb, decompose that contact into usable information.
Vergil perceived this instantly.
And he acted.
His arm spun, diverting the line of force, while his body advanced inside his opponent's guard with surgical precision. His elbow rose in a short arc, straight for Angelo's jaw, a compact, efficient strike, designed not to destroy, but to interrupt.
The impact came.
