Raziel pushed his spine against the rough, cold bark of the pine tree until the needles dug into his flesh.
He kept his eyes shut for a moment too long.
His lungs burned, his entire body felt like wet rags, but the exhaustion was secondary
He tasted the dry, metallic copper of blood.
He bit his thumb so hard in the Dead Zone he ripped the skin.
His left knee wouldn't stop shaking, a low, constant tremble under the damp tunic. Not from the cold, but from the raw memory of Mordecai's final glare.
"The server is still on," he thought. "What the hell."
He reached out with his mind and tore the interface open.
The blue screens flared violently, blinding him for a split second, then snapped into focus.
He ignored the stamina warning and zeroed in on the core data.
[GIFTS MASTERED: 7/7]
He had them all.
Seven ancient, apocalyptic powers resting inside a fifteen-year-old kid.
