Dimensional Descent

Raynred's shrill cries bore into the soul of all those who heard them.

He wanted to claw at his throat, anything to get that foul blood out of his body, but without his arms, he had no ability to do so.

He wiggled against the earth, trying to use the dirt, gravel and concrete in place of his hands.

Blue veins surged through his body, crawling up his neck like grotesque worms wiggling beneath his skin.

BANG! BANG!

He bashed his head against the ground, his own face deforming even more even beneath the strain.

Aina picked her ax up from the ground, using the buildings as leverage to leap back up to Leonel who was still in the sky.

They both gazed down toward Raynred, but neither spoke a single word.

Leonel's teeth clenched hard. Even after Raynred accidentally pierced through his own throat with a sharp bit of rusted steel, he still didn't feel like it was enough.

He watched with a cold expression as Raynred bled himself dry, his convulsions and gurgling cries etching themselves into the memories of all those who heard them.

Just as his life was about to fade, Leonel reached out a hand, a strong surge of Soul Force tearing into Raynred's mind.

At that moment, shrieks only Leonel could hear resounded. Even in the last minutes before his death, Raynred experienced pain the likes of which he never thought possible.

All of his pride and haughtiness had long since vanished. If he could have, he would have begged and pleaded.

watching the final moments of those he once thought of as friends,

'Pisces.'

He wanted

**

floated face first in the waters, three corpses pooling around

up, but his body was simply layered with too many injuries. Under the suppression, the pain he had experienced at the hands of these three was unimaginable. But, even then he managed to take one of them down even

Leonel succeeded in drawing that bastard out, the battle should have been easy. But, by then, the old man had already suffered too many injuries. He had no choice but to go all out near the end to eventually squeeze out a

hardly keep hold of his machete or

he was sure that the death count wasn't small. Unfortunately, this battlefield

just... take

he really wasn't sure if he'd

"Grandfather."

"Mm."

continued to float in the water, facing the slowly rising sun. But,

contrast, Elorin was still wearing his pristine white tracksuit. There didn't seem to be even

hands were buried in his pockets, looking up at the rising sun as though he was doing it alongside his grandfather. Whether he was aware that Hutch's eyes

Elorin crouched down, Hutch's weak snoring traveling to his

grandfather's machete. Even in such a state, it took him no small amount of strength to pry

arm and wrist were incomparably steady, his index finger's trembling gave

had always had a habit of holding onto a machete with just three fingers and his thumb, his index finger

had tried to beat this habit out of him, claiming it destabilized his strikes.

out

latter's throat,

only remaining family. His face was expressionless, his gaze steady. However, the trembling