A thin purple hand of condensed fire extended out of Kat's chest, holding Ozen's own in place. Kat felt her vision shifting, shattering, something was going… sideways…
Ozen stared in horror as a figure or burning purple pulled itself from the no longer soon to be corpse. A burning visage of the woman he'd sort to kill stepped out casually as if she was just taking a stroll. Ozen could feel cold, a chill, for the first time since he had reached Rank 4 on his path. For the first time in decades, he felt a frost deeper then his own. He could see it clawing its way up his arm and he couldn't help it. He was afraid.
