Void's clone grinned as his gaze lingered on the battered warrior before him.
Jiren lay motionless, his body riddled with wounds. Blood dripped onto the shattered ground beneath him, his breaths weak and uneven.
"Pathetic," Void's clone muttered, stepping closer to Jiren's broken form.
Jiren was drained, his vision blurred. Even shifting his eyes felt impossible. Yet, in his fading consciousness, he sensed multiple auras flaring up. A weak chuckle escaped his lips.
"Those weaklings... how did they become so strong?" Jiren murmured between ragged breaths, barely able to see beyond a few inches in front of him.
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed, and then—familiar human shoes entered his line of sight.
Jiren sighed at the words he heard next.
"I guess it's over for you."
Void's clone crouched, gripping Jiren's head with one hand and lifting him effortlessly. Now at eye level, he smirked.
