Between the man's trembling fingertips, the emerald rune rapidly cracked over before shattering into particles, leaving him utterly defenseless as only bits and pieces of his trusty armor still hang loosely to his exhausted body.
"Everett…!" Melisande yelled out.
"Get out of the way, you'll…!" Yuna called.
–Yet, the shielder did not move a single step. It was a promise made not just to those behind him, but to himself: the stake of his life and integrity as a defender, a pact he set on his own soul:
Not a single hair…not a single hair on their heads will be harmed! Everett resolved.
It was an act that supplied both fear and hope, so drastic and inexplicable in the lack of self-preservation needed: spreading his arms out, Everett stood firmly as he stood between the nefarious storm and his comrades behind him.
