The air in the chamber didn't just vibrate; it screamed. The polite, pedagogical observation of their previous exchanges vanished, replaced by a collision of two absolute wills.
This moment was the crescendo the last forty minutes had been building toward a war of attrition where every strike was informed by the brutal intelligence of the last.
The blood constructions, sensing the shift in Rex's intent, mutated with terrifying speed. They no longer merely formed lattices; they became jagged, whipping tendrils of hardened gore, lashing out to intercept him.
Rex's Peak Physique responded in kind. He wasn't just moving; he was dancing on the razor's edge of biological limits, his movements becoming a chaotic, non-linear sequence of bursts that forced the Blood Oath's learning rate to its absolute breaking point.
The crimson structures accelerated, their adaptive logic working overtime to predict a man who was intentionally defying the very concept of a predictable pattern.
