Cyclops, his head bowed low, watched as Simba's steps drew closer. His eyes had long lost their vigor and hope; only an empty, deathly stillness remained. He knew he was doomed.
Once again, Simba lashed out with his claws, this time tearing through Cyclops's stomach. Cyclops's intestines began to spill out from the wound.
Cyclops lay on the ground, unable to even muster the strength to get up, his eyes staring blankly at the pitch-black sky.
Wen Yu shivered as he watched from the sidelines. This could be the fate he himself would face next: to be brutally abused, all hope extinguished, before finally being killed and eaten. Simba had succeeded; the fate Wen Yu was now imagining was exactly what Simba wanted.
Simba slowly approached Cyclops. Seeing him collapsed on the ground, his eyes devoid of any hope for life, Simba couldn't help but feel a stirring of boredom.
Too weak. He can't take a hit anymore, Simba thought.
