Dimensional Descent

The seething rage pumped through Leonel's veins. He tried to rationalize it, but after a moment he was too pissed to do even that. Every time Manson felt like she was close to bursting his head like a watermelon, her body would be rocked by a wave of pleasure and spark yet another connection in Leonel Dreamscape.

After the third time, Leonel cut himself off from that bundle of connections entirely, his thoughts fuming. And yet, every time it happened, Manson's face would only become more flushed and her actions more drunk.

Even as this happened, her kicking speed seemed to increase and her body became more limber. Leonel was suddenly having a tougher and tougher time predicting her next attack because they simply had no logic to them. This forced him to go from using his predictive model toward his muscle analysis model.

Leonel was under no illusions about his strength versus Manson's no matter how pissed he was. As far as he could tell, Manson was Tier 2 of the Fifth Dimension while the rest of her companions were Tier 1.

Leonel wasn't able to dodge her attacks because he was strong enough, he was completely relying on his ability to do so and that was quickly becoming almost impossible.

As though Manson was just stretching her limbs and only just getting into a rhythm, the whistling of her kicks became sharper and sharper, trailing Leonel by a hair's breadth.

"The kid's survived quite a while." Double Shot spoke, his hands itching.

"She just likes playing with her food. Just enjoy the show, she's getting more perky." Shadow Rat responded.

As usual, didn't say a word, taking a snap shot of every wardrobe malfunction he could catch a glimpse of.

'This is some good material. It'll last me at least a week. This is good, really good…'

"It's been about half a minute, don't you think the miners should have heard something by now?" Shadow Rat asked.

"If they know what's good for them, they'll stay out of Manson's way. I doubt she'll go as easy on them as she's going on this kid."

replied, "I used to work the mines too. Everyone is

forgot you were a sewer rat

you think it's easy being here? I made

less money, and

jams, son

your wig glue dries like

BANG!

of his uniform hammer pants gaining

heel shattered the ground, but immediately became an anchor point

fluid as any sequence of punches. They were relentless and flexible, perfectly timed and

vanish into his spatial ring. He rolled to the side, avoiding another disastrous heel and leaping up to

in his eyes and the all pervading coldness

the flying particles of stone that had hung in the air due to Manson's violent barrage

didn't have a single injury on his body. Even as he breathed long and hard, his body moved

about… 20% of her strength. The others still haven't moved because they're quite confident in her ability to end all of this. Should I take

time. He had already thought of three plans with a better than 80% likelihood of ending

would twitch and her actions would shift. It was

became, the sharper

off in Leonel's mind. If she could adapt with nothing

fact she seemed to need to be inebriated to use it was a huge negative… Unless she could fight someone she wanted to kill as much as

'In that case…'

foot planted, his body attempting to slide by

chest by a centimeter. Yet, before it even had, in a feat of shocking flexibility, Manson's back