Shinsou had always relished in a flair for the dramatic, and Storm’s off-color commentary certainly pulled the warrior out of character for a moment. The returned comment to Veritas showed that the Telgradian was very much cognizant of this, as he was doing his best to deflect the joking and stay on point. Straightforward combat was the preferred format of the Citadel, but that didn’t mean the wizard had to embrace a simple slugfest.

Can’t go toe to toe with Shinsou. He spends his days training on goddamned mountaintops shirtless in the wind while you get shit-faced and bang whores. He’s also a lot younger than you; he’s not going to disappear this time.

After some blithering about power levels or some such nonsense, Shinsou summoned his initial volley. The black hands of seemingly inter-dimensional doom that Storm had witnessed before was not offered; in its stead the stern veteran fired forth a blast of arctic air, most of it being focused in Storm’s general direction.

In spite of his advanced age, the magician could still move. With a tiny bend in the right knee he popped violently left, easily hopping out of the way of the majority of the icy blast. A casual maneuver to avoid what he had considered a silly attack, Veritas landed upon the smooth surface and smiled before noticing the cold burn on his forearm as he spun away from the cold. The hairs on his forearm were entirely frozen, like twisted trees left in the wake of a great fire. Brushing the mildly frostbitten skin, the hair fell to the ground in crumbled, powdery white ash.

Well, shit.

Pivoting from behind the pillar, the grinning villain retorted with an impressed inflection, as he had quietly closed to roughly fifteen feet from the dangerous Vaan Osiris.

“New tricks! I see you’ve added to the repertoire, adding to the tar-slinging business.”

It was a two-phase shot, marginalizing the obviously impressive ice assault and likening the lethal dark magic of Shinsou for pieces of tar. It would burn the soldier, and play directly into Storm’s plan. He would frustrate Shinsou, force him to see the silliness of avoiding the inevitability of the Brotherhood, and return to claim his half of the New World.

“I’ve got a new trick of my own…” Storm unsheathed his two daggers, casually tossing the steel and Delyn into the air like a child flipping a coin. Moving his eyes, the two daggers rocketed through the air behind him, pivoting and driving into the stone pillar some fifteen feet in the air, sending rubble gently to the floor.

“I call this ’The Shinsou’!” With a new smile, Storm lowered his hands, sending down and forward a powerful electromagnetic pulse. He flew high and back into the air, his steel-toed shoes serving as the rudder, before pulsing once more and popping forward, his feet landing delicately on the two daggers.

Obscured from sight, the wizard was delighted with himself, particularly given the fury this would instill in his old partner.