Khan moved. To the naked eye, he did not simply run—he ceased to exist at his starting point, leaving behind a vacuum of displaced air. He flickered through the perimeter of the five SS-ranked silverback gorillas like a ghost.
Chink. Chink. Chink.
The sound of his katana barely leaving the scabbard rang out in disjointed micro-seconds. He did not hack or cleave; he merely grazed their monolithic hides, tapping the earth beneath their massive paws, injecting concentrated packets of volatile, negative ionic mana deep into their nervous systems and the ground.
Khan materialized ten paces past the pack, his back turned to the beasts. The colossal apes stood frozen, confusion tracking across their primal faces.
Click.
The hilt of his katana met the mouth of the scabbard with a crisp, definitive snap. The circuit was complete.
CRACK-THOOM!
