A slow smile spread across Ikenga's face. The pressure of fighting without his curses was a challenge he hadn't felt in ages. He stretched his neck, his knuckles cracking with a sound that, impossibly, echoed through the vacuum.
"So, no tricks, just pure concepts and clash of domains?" Ikenga's voice was a low rumble. "I can work with that."
Vellok remained silent, the star behind him flaring in response to his will. His hands came together, and between them, a sphere of pure, compressed light formed. To Ikenga this wasn't a physical object, but a conceptual blade of light, designed to sever. Its purpose was to cut the very thread of Ikenga's connection to the natural world to conceptually quarantine him.
Ikenga understood the attack's nature instantly. He looked at the star behind Vellok, the ultimate source of light and order, and then at the pulsing sphere.
