He rose onto two feet, standing straight, and reconfigured his arms. With spears as big around as telephone poles, he punched through thirty or forty panes of glass all at once, then did the same with his opposite hand.
Oh yeah, that works a lot better. Nice.
It was slow progress, as the glass constantly reformed and pieced itself back together a few feet ahead of him, but he was closing in.
Reforming barriers, such a pain.
She abruptly dropped the barriers and changed tactics. The majority of the glass in the area formed into one shape, a cone of solid glass, pointing towards the center of the purple-red sky, two and a half stories tall.
Woah.
What’s the plan here, Shatterbird?
Raising one hand, she shot it straight up into the sky above, until it was just a speck.
Oh cod.
Crystal rain?
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