She came in again, this time with both hands, pressing the exchange closer. He gave ground deliberately, reading her rhythm.
"Even if everything we suspect is true," he continued, deflecting a strike off his forearm, "we don't have the full shape of it yet. We don't know how far it goes. We don't know if Alistair is operating independently with the Desdemonas."
"And Andrea?" Isabella asked
"Same problem." He replied.
She paused for half a breath, just enough for him to move.
He dropped and blitzed to her flank, closing the gap in a single burst of speed, while having a strike already committed.
But a sudden barrier stopped him.
It appeared without a word from her, a spatial construct that simply existed between his fist and her side, invisible until the moment of contact. He felt the resistance push back against his knuckles.
She turned toward him with a calm smile. "You're faster."
"You're still sharp as ever," he replied, smiling back.
