He felt hands, impossibly strong, wrapped around his neck, squeezing.
Tatehan gasped, struggling, his hands clawing at the grip. His fingers scraped uselessly against the armored gauntlets, finding no purchase and no weakness.
He wondered who was doing this…
He twisted his head, catching a glimpse of his attacker.
It was Commander Cherak.
But he looked different now. He was massive, his body seeming to have grown even larger, encased in sleek red armor. His eyes glowed with a fierce, unnatural light behind his cracked visor. And he wasn't using hovering boots or a Skyblade.
He was flying.
FLYING!
Defying gravity itself.
"You think you've won?" Cherak snarled, his voice like thunder echoing across the sky. "You've done nothing!"
He squeezed harder, and Tatehan felt his vision start to darken at the edges. His lungs screamed for air that wouldn't come.
Super strength?
Super flight?
What the fuck...
Tatehan was running out of air.
