Soon enough, Sunny and his companions descended to the floor of the throne room. Mordrert walked down the stone steps leading to the gallery, as well, wiping blood off his hands.
They met under the throne of Mirage, where Saint was still standing still, absorbing tendrils of white mist that stretched toward her from the corpses littering the floor.
Mordret's stylish viridian suit did not look much better than the tattered raincoat the Other Mordret was wearing by then — that only made them look more alike. Sunny did not have the time to ponder how they managed to look unmistakably distinct despite being exactly the same, though.
He frowned, noticing that there was something wrong with Saint.
As more and more nothingness entered her body, her impassive expression seemed to be turning a little strained. It was as if she was struggling with something — at some point, she even grimaced and gritted her teeth, a subtle crease appearing on her brow.
