Iskaleth gasped what felt like her last breath.
Pain had long since stopped feeling like something happening to her body and had become the body itself, a suffocating, endless pressure digging through everything she was.
Sarethvane's tail had torn through her cleanly, but that wound was almost insignificant compared to what came afterward. Death Will pressed down from every direction, the coffins surrounding her existence like walls she couldn't see but could feel closing inward, stripping away layer after layer until even thought became difficult.
Somewhere far away, she knew her body was still twitching, blood spilling into the air, her Living Will fighting to remain attached to flesh that wanted to let go.
But Iskaleth herself had already fallen somewhere else and Fate surrounded her.
An endless sea of paths stretched outward, every possibility her life might still follow shining for only a moment before darkness consumed it. One vanished. Then another. Another after that.
