The metal scraps from Jeci's armor began to merge together in Northern's hand. They softened under the white heat radiating from his palm, turning moist and malleable, losing every quality that made them recognizable as metal. Northern squeezed them into themselves, twisted them out, squeezed again. The material yielded like wet clay.
While he worked, he sent a mental command to a clone. Maw'Thoraxis's corpse was dragged towards him. Two of his clones bent down with scavenger's knives and shredded the skin plates of the dead monster away from its body, peeling them off one by one and passing them to Northern, who folded each piece into the ball of melted substance in his hand.
He allowed his autonomous shadow to seep out and bleed into the mixture as well, a dark thread winding through the molten mass. Then Northern began to draw out a shape.
