The air grew heavier.
Not from fear—
But from presence.
It was not the suffocating pressure of the half-formed creature they had faced before. Not the chaotic distortion that pressed against the body and mind alike.
This weight—
Was different.
Refined.
Controlled.
It did not overwhelm.
It settled.
This was not a fragment.
Not a controlled vessel.
Not something incomplete or borrowed.
But someone who stood—
On his own will.
Above the structure—
The figure stepped forward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
There was no urgency in his movement. No wasted motion. No hesitation.
Each step felt… measured.
As if time itself—
Adjusted to his pace.
As if the world allowed him to move first… and then followed.
Duryodhana tightened his grip around his mace.
His instincts—
Sharp.
Focused.
There was no excitement in him now. No reckless eagerness.
Only readiness.
"This one…"
A pause.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…won't fall easily."
Beside him—
Karna remained still.
