Marcus had spent enough time inside the dome to learn what a Surpasser's aura felt like. He had brushed past many of them during the tournament's preparations and during the retreat. The heavy, dense pressure the man in front of them was emitting matched every one of those interactions.
There was no mistaking it.
Marcus's legs turned to lead as he watched the man walking toward them in slow, casual steps. It was clear to Marcus that the man was not in a hurry, there was nowhere for them to run.
A bloody grin split his face beneath the hood. His weapon still dangled from his hand gently.
Marcus's mouth opened to say something, but before he could get the chance, the Surpasser closed the distance so fast that Marcus felt as if his vision skipped a few frames.
One moment the man was meters away. The next, he was standing directly in front of Marcus, his free fist already driving forward.
The punch landed in the exact center of Marcus's solar plexus.
