"Had to," Faye replied, her breath quickening. "Can't keep dodging forever."
They clashed again, a dance of light and sound. Kikaru's beams wove intricate patterns—flashes to blind, solids to strike—while her time-slowing ability gave her split-second edges, letting her sidestep Faye's waves with uncanny grace. Faye's singing grew bolder, her Ikona generating small, tangible objects—discs, spikes, barriers—that she hurled or used to shield herself. One disc grazed Kikaru's arm, drawing a thin line of red. Kikaru hissed but didn't slow, retaliating with a beam that shattered Faye's next barrier and sent her stumbling.
Minutes stretched, both panting, their energy fraying at the edges. Faye's voice wavered, her last note forming a weak shield that cracked under Kikaru's final beam. Kikaru raised a hand, calling it off. "Enough," she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. "Good work."
Faye nodded, chest heaving. "You too. I'm… getting the hang of it."
