A faint white glow clung to Paul's wrist as his Ikona activated, its presence materializing with an almost fluid motion. The air around him shifted subtly, refracting light like a heatwave. A spiral of multicolored glass began to swirl around his arm, condensing into a single, precise point.
The glass-like projectile fired with a sharp crack, hurtling toward Silas at impossible speed.
Silas didn't flinch.
Before the attack could reach him, Rirana stepped forward, tossing a small capsule to the ground. It popped with a faint hiss, releasing a grotesque mound of flesh—a patchwork monstrosity of stitched-together body parts that lurched to life as the projectile made contact.
The effect was instantaneous.
