In the space of a single heartbeat, the city had transformed. It looked like a hurricane had torn through, stripping the streets of cobblestones and tearing buildings apart. The few fighting against Borealis lay strewn about, lacerated with long talon marks across their throats and chests. They twitched feebly, the last of their blood pulsing from their wounds.
The peak eighth-level inquisitor fared no better. He lay on his back beneath Fable's paw. A single sword-sized claw punctured his chest, nailing him to the ground. He gasped, feebly groping at the paw. With a callous growl, Fable twisted his hand, and the inquisitor jerked. Blood pulsed from the wound, slowing as his strength faded.
I looked down, gripping my staff tightly. A terrible fate for a terrible people.
"This is...impossible..." he gasped, before letting out a final shuddering breath and going still.
"Did he just..." Luxxa started.
