Clifford's POV
Clifford's hands moved around in that motion he learned a few years ago, back when he went abroad, in search of the answer that weird old man had given him.
Between attacks and blocks, he felt his limbs losing a bit of strength, and he knew that if he didn't use everything he had to finish the elders for good there, he was the one who'd be done.
And the truth he'd been seeking, the plan he had been meticulously executing...
Would go to waste.
So he focused everything he had on that simple, but not easy set of movements, almost as if he was dancing with his hands, while his legs moved separately, yet with the same synchronicity.
"FINISH HIM, BEFORE HE FINISHES HIS STANCE!" He heard the old woman Alma's voice.
'I knew she knew something...' He grinned inwardly, but focused on his movements.
Every unnecessary thought was an invitation to failure, and failure was unacceptable.
