Roman didn't care that the person in front of him was Alex. He wouldn't give the girls up. He dashed forward, his shizen at the ready. The cool metal felt solid in his hand, a comforting weight that seemed to anchor him in the midst of chaos. He expected the figure to dodge and attack, but when his blade met Alex's skin, it cut off his hand with a sickening crunch. The sound echoed through the air, making Roman's stomach turn.
He watched in horror as the hand fell off and turned into smoke, the acrid scent of burning flesh filling his nostrils. Roman stood there, frozen, looking at the figure in disbelief. Finally, he spoke, his voice shaking slightly. "Why are you not fighting?" he asked, his eyes locked on the figure.
