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.

final moments of those he once thought of as friends, knowing they wouldn't

'Pisces.'

He wanted

**

in the waters, three

he had experienced at the hands of these three was unimaginable. But, even then he managed to take one of them

old man had already

hardly keep hold of his

He didn't have the courage to look around, but he was sure that the death count wasn't small. Unfortunately, this

take

really wasn't sure if he'd wake up from

"Grandfather."

"Mm."

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

Elorin was still wearing his pristine white tracksuit. There didn't seem to

at the rising sun as though he was doing it alongside

Hutch's weak snoring traveling to his

state, it took him no small amount of strength to pry

from the blade to his sleeping grandfather. Though his arm and wrist

had always had a habit of holding onto a machete with just

out of him, claiming it destabilized his strikes. But, even after so long, Elorin had

found breaking out

grandfather's blade to the latter's throat, the

kneeling by his only remaining family. His face