The Troll King's right arm was gone.
It was an impossible sight. Moments earlier, that limb had smashed through shields, crushed hunters beneath its weight, and shattered vehicles as if they were toys. Now it lay severed on the rain-slick asphalt like discarded meat, a grotesque monument to the impossible. The massive hand twitched sporadically, thick fingers spasming with dying nerve impulses that had not yet realized the body they belonged to was gone. Black blood poured from the stump in violent pulses, each surge splattering against the cracked pavement and mixing with rainwater into thick, oily streams that crawled through fractures in the street. Steam rose from the wound as the monster's unnatural vitality tried and failed to close the damage.
For three long seconds, the battlefield froze.
