Taranis had not even moved yet when the bone began forming from his arm, its tip glowing with white energy. The process was swift, yet every moment of it was excruciating. Followed by the bones, muscles and nerves formed, weaving themselves together with surgical precision, and finally the porcelain skin covered it, his arm turning whole again as if it was never even ripped to begin with.
"So this transformation did not reduce the pain of regeneration," Taranis murmured, his brows slightly furrowing as he felt the cold air touching his nerves during the process. "Well, pain is the one thing that has become as close to me as Nymeria and Ume."
