Damian stood there, his hand still gripping Admond's face, black energy pouring from his palm into the skull relentlessly.
Admond's screaming cut off abruptly, his body going completely still, his eyes staring at nothing as the last of his consciousness was consumed entirely.
In Damian's peripheral vision, text flashed.
[Perception: 400 → 405 → 410]
His hand clenched, fingers digging into Admond's skull–
Crack Crack CRUNCH
–And the head crushed like an overripe fruit, bone fragments and brain matter spraying between his fingers.
He released his grip, and the corpse fell backward into the snow with a heavy thud.
'Such a pity…'
Damian's thoughts came cold and analytical.
'If only both their bodies weren't already crippled by the interrogators.'
He looked at his bloodied hand, then at the corpse.
Whatever the Northern Governor's people had done to Ashley and Admond during those days of torture had destroyed their bodies completely from the inside.
