Not the casual kind. Not even the panicked kind. This was the Void-gifted, death-is-chasing-me kind of sprinting. Sand kicked up behind him, his shadow trailing like smoke as his boots pounded across the broken ground.
"Why am I always running?!" Zane shouted, eyes wild.
"Because you always talk too much before checking the power level of your enemies!" Link yelled from his shoulder, bouncing like a bobblehead.
"You said they wouldn’t see me!"
"I said maybe—big difference!"
The red-flame entity closed the distance like it was born in lightning. One second it was across the battlefield, the next—
A fist, burning like a dying star, crashed into Zane’s side with enough force to humble tectonic plates.
The air bent. The ground cratered.
Zane flew. Not gracefully. Not heroically. More like a ragdoll launched from a volcano.
He bounced once. Skidded twice.
Then everything went black.
...Somewhere in the Deep Void of Unconsciousness...
Zane was floating. Again.
"Okay," he muttered in the silent dark, "someone punch me next time I say ’Let’s open a random portal.’"
A familiar voice echoed.
"You’re lucky your body can handle these impacts now. That punch should’ve liquefied you."
Zane groaned. "Please tell me I’m not dead."
"No, but your pride is."
Nyx materialized beside him, arms folded and unimpressed. "Seriously? Hit by a mountain-splitter in the first thirty seconds?"
"Could’ve dodged it if I had a warning."
"Yeah," Zane sighed. "Should’ve run faster."
Suddenly, a ripple tore through the space around him — not real space, more like the memory of pain made physical.
Zane’s eyes snapped open.
Zane lay in a newly formed crater, half-buried in rubble. Smoke rose from the ground around him.
"Okay... that one hurt," he croaked.
He forced himself up, ribs screaming in protest, his cloak in tatters.
Link reappeared beside him in tiny form, looking equally wrecked. "Remind me again why we’re not running right now?"
"Because," Zane growled, wiping blood from his mouth, "if I run again, I might just explode from embarrassment."
The red figure hovered a few meters away, still radiating heat, staring at Zane like he was a puzzle that punched back.
Zane stood shakily, dusted himself off, and muttered under his breath:
"...Round two, then."