As he flatly spoke in the manner of a common announcement, black arcs of lightning flickered at the edge Lucas's left palm like remnants of a knife that had shone its deadliness. And there were only four enemies remaining. Four, not five. The two last casualties of the Macan team were not the only casualty. They could only be said to be the second batch, just a minute after Lucas had stopped playing.
While one headless body lost the strength supporting it and floated behind Lucas, and the other calmly pushed by the Macan team leader who had stopped his futile charge, a third body was drifting through the darkness, a large hole with charred seams taking over its chest as it lifelessly drifted along with the debris a few kilometers away, pulled toward the even more lifeless planet not far away.
