The will suppression pressed harder against Bruce's mind, a grinding inevitability that sought to sand down his defiance into submission.
Hammer. Shield. Staff. Again. Again. Again.
Their roars reverberated through the shell domes overhead, unified and thunderous, the Domain pulsing in rhythm with their territorial fury. They believed they were overwhelming him, breaking him by sheer dominance.
Bruce smiled faintly as blood trickled from the corner of his lip.
"Soon," he whispered.
The hammer struck his chest and drove him back. Heal flared. The staff smashed across his ribs. Heal answered. The shield rammed into his jaw. Heal restored. And with every collision, Vitality Sovereign siphoned another thread. And another. And another. Their supreme aura began to waver at its edges. Subtle. Nearly imperceptible. But to Bruce's senses trained, sharpened, sovereign it was undeniable. Their life force was no longer perfectly stable.
