Zetterburn stumbled forward, off-balance for a heartbeat. It was all Ness needed. He didn’t think. He acted . A lifetime of batting practice and fighting possessed moles took over. He swung the Louisville Slugger not at Zetterburn’s head, but at his front paws.
Ness tightened his grip. The psychic pulse of this strange, elemental world was a chaotic drumbeat compared to the steady hum of Eagleland. His PSI felt… muffled. Sluggish. Like trying to shout through a pillow. But the fire in Zetterburn’s eyes was real. The heat on his cheek was real. And the quiet, desperate courage that had made him face Giygas was still real, too. rivals of aether ness