The hesitation was all Trafalgar needed.
A hurt thing that stops to think has already lost, and this one had stopped with one arm hanging ruined at its side and its skull dropping low as it gathered itself for one last charge. Trafalgar let it charge. He wanted the mass moving. He wanted all that frozen weight committed to a single line it could not pull out of.
It lowered its plated skull and drove forward to crush him under the whole of its bulk, and that was precisely where he had been steering it.
