A suffocating blanket of gray ash and pulverized dust drifted lazily across the shattered expanse of the subterranean avenue.
In the center of the smoking impact crater, Hajin slowly forced his swollen eyelids open, his vision swimming with kaleidoscopic halos of amber and crimson.
Every breath he drew tasted sharply of burnt copper, sulfurous brimstone, and the bitter tang of coagulated blood.
His right arm lay completely limp and motionless against the cracked flagstones, bound in layers of clean linen from his emergency supply kit.
The bones of his right forearm were reduced to loose splinters beneath the skin, and not a single droplet of feeling remained within his numb fingers.
The horrific feedback of fusing stolen abyssal corruption with borrowed celestial divinity destroyed the limb's internal meridians, rendering it entirely useless.
