Magic. It was worse than feline logic. Leave it to magic to re-fracture and re-herniate his vertebrae in the middle of a battle. A powerful sigh forced itself through the controlled exhale of his Ki breathing, decimating the thin slow line of smoke curling up from the incense. It reformed itself a moment later, right before Bruces eyes, and he glared at it with Batmans most malevolent stare. What a metaphor. A few seconds disruption and all was set right again. That was magics attitude. No harm done. As if it was as simple as a few seconds paralysis.
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About Chris Dee, World's Finest: Red Cape, Big City
Chris Dee, World's Finest: Red Cape, Big City.