He watched the slaughter with the cold, detached interest of a scientist observing a mildly successful experiment in a petri dish.
A massive, rusted chunk of a dreadnought's hull, easily the size of a shopping mall, plummeted from the sky directly toward him.
Sebastian didn't move. He didn't cast a shield.
The moment the massive piece of debris entered his immediate, personal airspace, the [Law of Rotting Gravity] hit its maximum threshold. The falling steel instantly turned into a cloud of fine, harmless red ash that washed over him like a warm breeze, briefly dusting his black leather coat before blowing away into the Juncture.
"Fascinating," Sebastian murmured, watching a Level 90 Paladin plummet past him, screaming wildly as his rotting armor dragged him down into the endless void below. "The math holds up perfectly."
