The sky was clear, the cold air biting against the skin as the sea stretched endlessly beneath it. Damon and Seras stood on the frozen platform without moving, watching until the ship slowly disappeared into the distance.
Only when it became a faint silhouette on the horizon did Seras finally turn toward him.
She drew her sword.
Her tachi gleamed with a cold, merciless light. The blade hummed softly in the quiet air, and her eyes sharpened, filled with murderous intent.
Damon nodded once and tossed the ornament high into the sky.
The golden eye spun through the air.
Seras' aura suddenly grew cold.
With a single swing of her sword, it felt as though the world had lost all its color. The sky, the sea, the ice, everything blurred together into a single streak of distorted space.
The slash tore through reality itself.
At the very center of the sword strike was the eye.
