Which was when Fury decided to make an appearance.

The pilot had relayed the hero’s presence almost the moment he entered sensor range, having given his last moments over to the task the Fireen was loathe to let his sacrifice go to complete waste. Even if he gave not a single damn for the Angar-Ryllan’s plights, for there was ultimately only one reason he fought, Fury would still see the hero brought down. Hence why he exerted himself, hence why only a few moments after the pilot was stricken down the energy-manipulating warrior crashed into the end of the alley-way scattering bins and debris in every direction.

He had righted himself after landing almost instantaneously, and locked General Freedom with a piercing gaze. He strode towards him, breaking out into a run as his right hand trailed across the wall, energy leaking into the brickwork of whatever building it happened to be. Such observations were unimportant to Fury.

Words weren’t necessary for such a serious conflict, this was no time for arrogant boasting, only clinical killing. At naught but forty feet from his target the Fireen lashed out and flung his right hand forward, the energy tightening along the wall behind him and ripping a long line of bricks from the wall, sending them hurtling down the alley-way like a whip directly at the General. Such a minor display of his power had turned the masonry into a deadly projectile the like of which could shear through an entire battalion with ease, or sever a car in two. Time would tell if the General could deal with it, or the rapidly approaching Fireen. Fury would of course be acting upon the results, but time was short for both of them, Fury was fast.