The razor-sharp silver blade of Nick's dagger tore through the air and plunged straight into the empty space at the center of "Ember's" chest.
There was no sound of blood spilling or flesh being torn. The blade passed through the impostor's chest as though it had pierced a dense, icy mass of fog. The figure wearing Ember's face lowered his head and stared at the dagger embedded in his body. His lips stretched all the way to the corners of his mouth, twisted and rigid like those of a broken wooden doll whose strings had been violently yanked apart.
CLANG!
His entire body exploded into countless shards of glass, scattering in every direction. Before the glittering silver fragments could even hit the pitch-black tiled floor, they instantly transformed into thick plumes of gray smoke, billowing upward before rapidly dissolving into the dense mercury-like mist.
