Aelindra's mandible lay six feet from her body in a pool of blood that was still spreading across the stone, and the teeth that had scattered on impact sat in white fragments between the cracks like shrapnel from a porcelain bomb.
What remained of her face below the nose was a curtain of torn flesh and exposed muscle hanging over her throat, twitching with each shallow breath her unconscious body still drew.
The Primordial Villain stood over her with blood drying on his bare chest and the dead shard of [Synchra] fused to the base of his neck, and the war that raged across the slopes below them sounded distant from the ridge's peak.
His forearm was still open where he'd cut himself to coat [Soul Reaper], crimson running freely down his wrist and dripping from his fingertips in a steady rhythm that matched nothing in his pulse.
"Quin..."
Ten meters behind him, the dark-light in Sera's blades guttered once and died.
