For an hour, no one moved.
They simply existed. Each trapped in the private, horrifying memory of their own survival.
Jin sat propped against a dragon's skull. His left arm hanging uselessly. Face a pale mask that couldn't hide the shaking in his hands.
Talia lay nearby. Breathing shallow. Venom from the Shadow Drake's claws leaving a network of angry black lines under her skin.
Kael was still unconscious. A testament to the brutal cost of his transformation.
The others were in various states of ruin. Their new artifacts gleaming dully in the blood and grime.
Dante was the first to stir.
His body, though healed by the flood of absorbed power, ached with deep phantom pain.
The stump of his shoulder was a constant burning reminder.
He rose to his feet. Movements stiff.
Every eye turned to him. Gazes a mixture of fear, awe, and soul-crushing tiredness.
He ignored them.
He held out his remaining hand. The air beside him grew cold.
FWOOSH.
