He was right. The PSI Magnet was cracking. Ness felt the psychic feedback lancing behind his eyes. He couldn’t hold. He dropped the shield.
He lunged.
Zetterburn stumbled forward, off-balance for a heartbeat. It was all Ness needed. He didn’t think. He acted . A lifetime of batting practice and fighting possessed moles took over. He swung the Louisville Slugger not at Zetterburn’s head, but at his front paws. rivals of aether ness
He turned, his tail lashing, and began to walk. After a second, Ness followed, his battered sneakers squelching in the mud.
Ness lowered his hand. He was trembling, his nose bleeding from the strain of focusing PSI in this alien place. He held the broken remains of his bat like a spear. He was right
Zetterburn.
It wasn't a pounce; it was a detonation. Zetterburn vanished in a blur of orange and red, leaving a smoking trench in the ground. Ness had a single microsecond to react. He threw up a PSI Magnet, a shimmering green shield of mental energy. He couldn’t hold
Crack.