Joon didn't come down.
He stayed on his disc, ten meters above the ruined street, and looked at the big man standing in the middle of it.
"No thanks," he said. "I like the view."
The big man didn't smile. He just tilted his head, as if Joon had told a joke in a language he didn't speak.
Then the street rose up to meet him.
A pillar of stone tore out of the road beneath Joon's disc and shot straight up at him, fast as a fist. Joon leaned hard to the left and the disc swung out of its way. The pillar shot past, so close it scraped his boot, and kept rising until it towered over the rooftops. Then its top bent over like a neck and came down at him from above.
Joon dropped. The stone head smashed into the street where he'd been hovering.
He came around low, skimming a meter off the ground, and threw a bolt sideways at the big man's legs. It wasn't big. It was quick and thin and aimed low, where the man hadn't been looking.
