𝐐.

— that his trenchcoat flung back from the pressure dispersing. Such an exertion was met by something similar, yet Q couldn't seem to fathom anything but darkness permeating his twirling vision... Spiralling from whatever was thrown by Ryu, down for the count. 「 #METROMAYHEM 」

— detective's frame, almost as if the garou had a delayed effect. Unfortunately, this would not be the case as Q basked in an inferno. Detonating as his reckless tackle sought to tackle the trajectory, colliding against the plummeting Shotokan. Redirecting the trajectory —

— guard with a finalizing (pending) uppercut which sent him to the heavens, granting enough leverage to send the confident fighter barreling down the hallway. Q brushing off the debris that had collected upon his person as Ryu soared, almost instinctively. 「 #METROMAYHEM 」

— twisting his torso as his upper body flailed from the inevitable force of gravity, the entirety of his leg unraveled to a deliver a viciously heavy kick. If connected, bombarded the traveling vagabond with hellish delivery. Following the plummeting goliath hurling such a —

— Fists pumped into the air, muscles tightening as adrenaline pumped through the anomaly. A muffled grunt signifying his reinvigoration to match the supernatural defenses that were now manipulated by Ryu, regardless of his lack of Hadou; he was a force to be reckoned with, in —

— to attempt a soaring kick to send Ryu careening eastward. Finalizing the initiative with a heavy fist, that if dodged, slugged through the very wall now plastered with branching cracks upon impact. Tread no further World Warrior, this road is yet for you. 「 #METROMAYHEM 」

— the makeshift detective. 〝 Gruuuuuaaaaah. . . 〞 A sigh escaped that vacant expression as his chin tilted lower to assess the damage done, disdain even piercing the steel mask adorned as the vigilante sized up the limping Shotokan. Emotionless it seemed, this unfortunate —

— short circuiting container. For a mere moment, mumbling heard deep within the frozen expression of the steel mask. 〝 . . . (Done.) 〞 Slowing down, the mysterious trenchcoat man simply idled. Arms hovered cautiously before turning and walking away. 「 #METROMAYHEM 」

— to deliver an heaven piercing uppercut focused into Jon's abdomen. If connected, followed by folded fingers racing to sandwich the impact with another plummeting from overhead. Grunting in pain as he beared the lingering assault from the opposing beast man, hopefully —

— train cart housing @Iotaleia, showcasing insurmountable speed as erratic strike sought to claw off machinery harvesting her essence for the unknown substance drugging innocents of the city. Carelessly discarding a spray of skyrocketing debris behind him! 「 #METROMAYHEM 」

— delivering both sets of knuckles into Talbain's chest. Hopefully, thrusting the cryptid further as he applied the heat. Was this man or machine? Unbeknownst to the challenger, this trenchcoat donning brawler would maintain strength well beyond regular man. Showcasing —

Paralleling the initiative of the, now werewolf, Q lunged forward. Using a single step as leverage for a reckless swing which would plummet down to his skull. Sacrificing his own body to exchange power mirroring the creature's own had it successfully landed, being nudged aback —

— what was to come. . . Simple as it was, another threat stood before he and the factory of Grit mere feet away with no intention of stopping. His objective was final, yet his opposition was nigh. Eyes surged anew, cueing the resurgence for another battle! 「 #METROMAYHEM 」