The spear pierced the fog and came out the other side. The magnetic field made it careen away from Karkash completely. The next javelin came closer, and the third, Karkash had to stop before it reached him.
Stoker chose that moment to leap out of the fog and attack, but Karkash merely launched the javelin at him. Stoker caught the spear with both hands just before it cut through his face. And the magnetic force was still there, carrying him all the way back down to the ground until a lightning bolt sent Stoker toppling through the dirt and grass.
Hector threw one more javelin according to Garovel’s direction and then launched himself with a platform. But Karkash was prepared this time, and when Hector broke through the fog, he was greeted with a fist wreathed in electricity. Hector barely avoided taking the hit with his skull, and it instead pummeled into his chest. Several bones snapped at once, and Hector flew straight into the ground, leaving a crater.
He was exposed and didn’t have time to worry about recovering, so he immediately constructed a dome over himself. Before it was even half-done, it absorbed the lightning strike that had surely been intended for his head.
Karkash lost interest in him, more concerned with going after Stoker.
‘Make as much metal as you can,’ said Garovel. ‘And drop it on him.’
‘I’m not sure how much I can make,’ said Hector.
‘Then it’s a good time to find out.’
He hesitated no further. Hector’s hands crashed together, demanding all the concentration he could muster. He constructed his largest object ever, placing it as high up as he could force it.
The sky above Karkash darkened.
Metal accumulated and grew quickly, shooting outward. Mass was all it was--all Hector could make it be. A rough orb at best, fifty meters deep of solid metal.
And Karkash caught it. Strained, weighing him down--but all the same, the man stopped its freefall in mid-air.