Before the four could even scream, Raiden had materialized before them with that same irritated stare. Yet even in his hollow condition, he acted on some buried impulse—something he couldn't fish out of himself no matter how hard he tried.
He would have taken their heads without hesitation, and would have rejoiced as their warm blood bathed his face in euphoric release. But not this time. Perhaps crossing that line, killing your own, changes everything.
He looked down instinctively, staring at the numbers displayed on their star-shaped crests through a confused haze. All sevens, and while he had climbed to rank five after his fight with Deathsight, his brother, subduing four number sevens should have drained him at least a little.
He lifted his gaze upward, staring at the half moon suspended above. He was the moon dragon, after all, and even in his current hollow state, he could feel the immense power that darkness granted him.
