The metal appendage slams into his core, and circuitry flickers with a stutter of sound. The force from that blow drops Rinzler to one knee. The kick that follows crumples him. Rinzler doesn't need breath, but that aim is still enough to stagger, and voxels crunch under the foot-claws, light scattering across the floor.

He swipes out blindly as he hits the ground. Tucks with the momentum and keeps rolling. This is oppressively, hatefully familiar—he needs the distance, but can't stay on defense (not like this). One wrist twists, flicking out a high-charged blade toward knee-level. If he can make it back to the energy conduit, Rinzler will slap his free hand on its panel, drawing power fast.