He could feel the table touch his back and Ezekiel’s fist wasn't very far either. His fist was brought back as far as possible to give it some time to build speed. He couldn't afford to have this leave the job half-finished.

Doubt started to creep into his mind.

(“Is this even going to work? What if I fuck up and break my arm? Shit, this is the elbow I dislocated, isn't it? Dammit should I just-”)

He threw his thoughts to the wayside and focused only on this punch. He could feel the table dig into his back and could now feel that Ezekiel’s fist was about to land.

He continued condensing the fireball to the point of failure, making sure to leave one part weaker than the rest.

Ezekiel’s fist touched his shirt and it finally happened. The fireball exploded but this was no regular explosion. It was a (somewhat) controlled explosion that shot out from behind the part of his gauntlet in contact with his elbow.

Tibaut may have overdone. Neither he nor Ezekiel could see where his fist went and if it wasn't for Tibaut’s battle-hardened body, his lower arm would have flown off into the distance, maybe even punching a hole or two on its flight.

It was only through instinct that Tibaut even aimed it at Ezekiel. And it was a blessing for Ezekiel he didn't aim it at his intended target of Ezekiel’s face.

It produced a whistling sound as it went through the air, though this was something Tibaut would realise after the fact, given time to fully process what happened.

Just as Tibaut imagined it, his fist flew towards Ezekiel like a rocket. And the impact was immense. Ezekiel wore a piece of leather armour to protect his torso. If it weren't for that piece of cowhide he would have had a new hole in his stomach.

A giant boom echoed throughout the building and Ezekiel flew away with the speed of a falcon into a wooden wall.

He broke the thick wooden wall and was left floored in the alley outside.

His torso revealed a bare area of his stomach where no cloth or armour remained. Just an area of exposed muscle in the shape of a fist imprint.

Tibaut wasn't even sure what had happened until he looked down at his fist.

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The upper part of his gauntlet was steaming and he couldn't move his arm. The force likely dislocated it again. He tried to put it back in place again but it stung even to touch, so it could wait for now.

He fell to his knees from the impact with the table. Seeing the hole in the wall and Ezekiel outside, he sighed observing him for a few moments.

(“He’s… he's still alive. Thank god, I thought I overdid it.”)

He got lower on the floor, now just sitting on the floor and took a moment for himself.

He looked at his arm and sighed.

(“What the hell was I thinking?”) He thought as he rested his good arm against his forehead.

“I'm a fucking idiot. What if it didn't connect? What if I broke my hand and he withstood? What if… oh screw it, I'm not gonna pretend. That so fucking cool!” He said with a smirk. “Hehe, I'm a combat genius! Damn, what else can I do with explosions?”

As the high of his success wore off, his mind went back to his initial thoughts.

“Rockets, huh?” He said as he picked himself off the floor. He began to slowly walk over towards Ezekiel. Other than his breathing, there wasn't so much as a twitch out of him.

“(I really got him, huh?) This seems like an incredibly powerful move. A final gambit with high reward. Well, maybe not a final gambit, I do have two arms after all. Other than those point-blank fireballs I do, I think this is the strongest attack in my moveset. Moveset? Heh, what am I an action-game character? I can't wait for the double jump.”

He joked as he walked through the hole in the wall.

“So what should I call it? Oh right! What's the name of the rocket that went to the moon? Apollo, I think? There was some number after it, but I think that should work. Right, apollo. A punch that'll send you straight to the moon.”

He approached the feet of Ezekiel and looked at his face. His eyes were closed and he looked to be in discomfort.

“Pretty decent name, right Ezekiel?” He said with a sly smirk, before crouching down.

His body was pretty knackered so the most he could afford to do at this point was drag Ezekiel back inside.

As he did so, he heard the footsteps of someone heading down the stairs.

He looked up to see Mr. Bentley and the man himself looked down in shock.

“I-i-impossible!” He shouted as he quickly came down the stairs. Tibaut breathed heavily as he watched Mr. Bentley approach.

He let go of Ezekiel’s foot and approached him.

“Hey old man, I want some answers and fas-”

The old man tripped into him and Tibaut quickly grabbed something in his hand. It looked to be the knife Ezekiel used before he… died? Disappeared? Faked his death? Well, whatever the case was, it was his old knife and the old man tried to stab him with it.

“What the hell are you doing!?” He felt the next of the old man's arms move and turned around to see him throw something.

It looked to be a small throwing knife of some kind and it landed directly where Tibaut had punched him.