The heat clawed down my throat with every breath, thick with smoke and the taste of iron. Each inhale burned, but the pain only pushed me harder. I blinked, and in the next heartbeat, I was beside a man grinning through the blaze, his sword gleaming with reflected fire. That smile was cracked, desperate, the kind born from minds already broken. It made me wonder what had shattered him… what had shattered all of them.
His blade cut the air a fraction too slow. I slipped past and drove my scalpel into his neck, feeling the resistance give way like paper. Hot blood sprayed across my arm, vanishing into the smoke before it hit the ground. His eyes stared back at me, pupils wide, glassy, and empty; like someone had carved the soul out of him and left only the body behind. No wonder they felt no fear.
Only a fool does not fear death. And fools like these are always the ones who kill the fastest.
