Theron lay on the ground, gasping for breath. He somewhat felt his life slipping away from him.
He had given everything he had in that strike. His White Cores didn't seem to be responding to the world around them anymore at all, his Mana was drained, his soul was tapped out, and the backlash from swinging that hard had shattered all the bones in his body.
It seemed that he wasn't destined to be healed, and certainly not to live a long, healthy life.
Things always ended up like this, now didn't they?
He felt his vision fading. Or maybe that was just an illusion. He was already trapped in a sea of black, his eyes having burst. Feeling was gone, sound was gone, sight was gone; he couldn't even taste the blood in his mouth.
And yet, he still felt himself pulled into someone's embrace, the feeling of his cheeks sliding onto something soft and a hand running through his hair feeling all too palpable.
"I'm sorry…" a familiar voice echoed.
