These attacks from Banda were certainly dangerous, but Hector couldn't help thinking there was something off about them, too. They were so straightforward. Not creative or sneaky at all. Banda wasn't throwing any feints at him or trying to distract him. The Raptor was just barreling headlong toward him like a rabid animal. Ferocious, perhaps, but mindless.
And yet, that didn't seem quite right, either. This feeling in his gut was telling Hector something else.
Banda wasn't mindless. That's what was so strange here.
Despite all appearances to the contrary, Banda was still in control of himself. Still thinking. Still rational.
Still testing him.
Banda wanted a clash. A direct conversation. For now, at least. He wasn't trying to kill him at any cost yet. He wanted to get to know Hector better, first.
This had to be the weirdest fucking thing that Hector had ever felt. He didn't even know if he should trust it. Reading his opponent's intent? Was this because of his own aura or Banda's? Perhaps all auras were like this.
Whatever the case, he had to come to a decision. He'd flown up here to have a "conversation" with Banda, but did this game of chase qualify as that? Were he and Banda learning about each other?
Somewhat. Definitely somewhat. Could Banda read his intent in the same way? Hector had a feeling that he could.
Which meant that the Raptor could perhaps sense his uncertainty. His hesitation. His struggle for solutions.
But not his fear.
No, not that. Because there was nothing to read. Hector was not afraid of this asshole. He was angry at him.
And learning more about Banda like this, about that calm mind beneath the storm of furious red...
It actually pissed Hector off more. Being able to sense that there was a real, thinking human being in there, that it wasn't just some crazed, psychotic animal devoid of all emotion and humanity fighting him right now--that made Hector begin to genuinely hate Banda.
Because Banda was choosing to do this. The Raptor of Kortan wasn't ruled by instinct and indulgence. Those things were there, of course--Hector could sense them, too. But the sentient control was stronger. Banda knew exactly was he was doing.
And to be honest, as much at it bothered him, things were probably better off this way. The apparent curiosity in Banda's aura was definitely making him hold back, which in turn was giving Hector time.
But Hector still had to answer. Banda was posing questions to him now.
Can you do anything to me? What are you really made of? How dangerous are you, Darksteel?
Hector could all but hear these things.
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