Two thoughts, two motions, two actions, two ideas.
Both, are extremely simple, feasible, and at the same time, incredibly genius. Even I, a man who would never think to call himself a genius, honestly and truly thought that I outdid myself here. The sheer audacity of my plan made my heart pound against my ribcage like a war drum. There was no room for error, not when the Death Sun stood before me, an avatar of annihilation waiting to strike.
Fighting the Death Sun is suicide. I'm not a match, not nearly by any means; it's the same as attempting to fight the Enforcer, a death sentence that I'll sign with my own hands if I dare to be so arrogant and think I can tank a hit or two from him
Even the Cryptic Sun—against him, all I could ever do was fractionally counter some of his attacks. The only value I had was to make a bit more of his brain cells think about me rather than how to handle the Blue Sun, which allowed her to finish the job.
