Tock flickered mid-air, core pulsing without rhythm, then dimmed. The plates collapsed inward, folding tight, returning to the central shard lodged deep in what was left of Randalp's chest.
It slid loose from the muscle as his body fell into pieces.
The shard rolled once, then stopped against Vincent's boot.
The silence held longer than it should have.
Vincent didn't move.
Across the arena floor, Randalp's remains twitched once—reflex, nothing more. Then the convulsions started. His arm jerked violently. A pulse rippled through his chest, what was left of it, and a long breath escaped the open cavity like a dying wind.
Then came the heat. hit
Faint at first—low waves rising off his skin, the edges of his shredded uniform curling inward. The blood on the stone bubbled. His fingers flexed once. Then again.
Vincent took a half-step back, one hand still loose at his side, the other clenched as if bracing for something he couldn't name.
The corpse lit from within.
