Commander Zebelon stared, face deathly pale, eyes wide.
'What is this thing? What is it? What's the secret? What am I missing? What trick is he using?'
His eyes drifted slightly towards Northern. He couldn't afford to take his gaze off the child standing before him, so he could only spare the briefest glance before turning back, questions churning through his mind with no answers to catch.
He froze in position, his hand trembling. His bones, broken only a moment ago, were snapping back into shape with wet crunches, but the healing did nothing for the horror now etched across his face. His body was restoring itself. His confidence was not.
And before him, Lord stood like a child who had just been woken from sleep and was still feeling slightly drowsy.
He stood about ten meters from the Commander, with everything around them drenched in a flood of blood and flesh.
Commander Zebelon trembled. His heart was beating fast. So fast that he recognized the heartbeat.
