𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐀
And then suddenly a hundred. His skin was papery and translucent, veins standing out like dark rivers beneath. His eyes had sunk deep into their sockets, the violet glow fading to a dull, dying ember.
"The ash was keeping him alive," Kaleb breathed, horror dawning in his voice. "Without it—"
"He's aging," Rafayel finished grimly. "All the years it was holding back—they're catching up."
"Then put it back!" I wanted to shout, but I couldn't speak, could only stare at Cyrus's still form.
Zayne crouched beside Thaddeus, his expression unreadable. "The bullet," he repeated. "What was it made of?"
Thaddeus's breath rattled. His now-gnarled hand, knuckles swollen, reached out and grasped weakly at the air. "You should know—" he gasped, and then his hand fell. "You should all know."
