The Theta State

Oryx flipped and dodged with the perfect poise of a talented dancer. He tiptoed while simultaneously flinging his legs enough to cartwheel and side flip as easily as breathing.
His talent came in handy. It’d taken so long to show his companions that there was more to the Magnetic Oryx than most had heard. Agility, grace, control, flexibility–all of it mattered, and it’d saved their lives that very day.
The angled bars expanded from their dark orb home, a distasteful conjuring of darkness that–frankly–most would avoid. In this case, literally.
The black spot could be controlled from a distance, had a full motion of degree, aimed for anything moving, and adapted at the slightest change. The only critique to the special magic would be its four appendages. Both its greatest strength and weakness.
Four at a time. Grown and fired out at insane speeds, solid shadow was packed together. Darkness massed together until its existence became dense enough to influence its surroundings. Its behavior turned from calculated, human, to bestial in the tiniest seconds. The supercomputer of magic.
And Oryx was making it look like a fool.
Because of its four arm limit, Oryx was surviving.
Two were preoccupied with an orange bubble housing his three companions. One had called a defensive, protective dome. Another was passed out, status unknown, after taking a hit on the head. The last knew well that he’d never stand a chance against magic so advanced. Oryx preferred being in the fray, but he wasn’t foolish enough to mock a man who knows his own limits.
Oryx was the only one who could survive this. He was the only one who could alter his entire state of mind.
Just as fast.
The two remaining arms jabbed out like vipers made of steel. But they failed to strike Oryx.
The hard bars flipped, flattened, and fanned, turned to ribbons in its next phase.
And Oryx adapted. He’d dealt with something similar a few years ago. That’s when he learned his real strength.
Oryx tapped his own forehead, his ring finger dabbed with a spot of glowing green. It caused his body to react. His raw power expanded, his mind and muscles grew in droves, his reactions slowed. Yet his output flew off the charts.
Oryx sunk his fingers into the air itself and turned it as he would crumple a thin sheet. This twirl of air and space lured the deadly ribbons. They flocked and crashed into one space, gathered then slowed, smashing into an unseen, unbreakable wall.
Oryx ended his fight with a cross meant to demolish empires.

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