Adyr's body held itself together, gravely injured but alive and healing.
For him, healing alone was not enough to restore him fully. Luckily, he still had his innate ability.
On the edge of shattering, his body turned to gray mist with a soft pop. The next moment, he reappeared where he had been 3 seconds earlier, whole and calm, not a mark on him.
His breath came ragged, and his stance looked tired; even a 3-second rewind was enough to strain his body.
Grace's light in his right white wing flared, flushing the side effects from his system and restoring the stamina he had just spent.
Sszhar, its skull laced with cracks and blood spraying from its wounds, stared at the black figure standing before it like an undead that knew nothing of fatigue, let alone death.
