He saw the little dot of the fireball spell coming, the seed which would blossom into flaming death.  Not so much for him, mind you, but the shock waves were still a bitch.  So he avoided it as best he could, darting to the side, blindingly fast.  He immediately started to feel the strain of the hypermovement; added to the drain of healing on his internal resources, he was going to be getting pretty hungry if the fight lasted too long.<br/><br/>He darted to the side, but couldn't quite outrun the shockwave of the fireball detonating where he had been.  The blast rolled over him, lifting him into the air and flinging him forward.  Twisting to orient himself, he saw himself rushing up at the charred table he had broken his rib against.  Figuring out what to do was simple, in his currently heightened state of time awareness.  He curled into a ball to tumble to the right position, and then just rammed his legs out at just the right time, slamming his combat boots into the edge of the table, shattering the table into charcoal chunks but reversing his direction.  He corkscrewed straight at Naomi from an unexpected direction, Bowie knife out in front of him.  The mask and goggles hid his face, which was all the more unnerving as she couldn't tell if his face was screwed up in fury, utterly calm, or grinning like a madman...