He could type anything.
Leo’s hands were shaking. But he was grinning. It was power . Pure, absolute, geometric power.
He clicked on the pixel.
His problem was the wind. The cruel, mocking arrow that shifted mid-shot, turning a surefire headshot into a gentle breeze that sent his "Frozen Meteor" plopping harmlessly into the water. He had the angle. He had the power. But the wind always won.