He couldn't move. Could barely breathe.
Pain rolled through him like waves of fire. Every rib felt cracked. One leg refused to respond. His vision faded around the edges, dark and blurred.
The Tanker stepped forward again.
Its violet eyes locked on him like a predator watching its prey stop twitching.
Johnquis blinked, chest rising shallow.
His hand reached for the chain… But his fingers wouldn't close.
"...shit..."
The light in the dome flickered again.
And the room fell quiet—
Except for the low, heavy breath of something ancient, watching him die.
Johnquis couldn't feel his left leg.
His body screamed with every breath. His lungs burned, ribs felt like shattered glass, and blood was seeping into his coat. He tasted metal. He saw double. But his mind…his mind kept fighting.
The Tanker loomed closer.
One step at a time. Slow. Unrelenting. No rush. No mercy.
A predator that knew it had already won.
