No sound.
No movement.
Just the aftermath.
The canyon had split.
The thirty thousand metal spheres?
Gone.
...No, not gone.
They could still be seen.
On the ground.
Cut.
Each of them.
In half.
Clean.
As was the Metal Jinn.
His head was gone. Spine severed.
A full second passed before his body realized it was dead.
It dropped to the ground like a sack of rusted iron.
'Ten.'
Malik stood alone.
A lot more steam rose off his back.
His robes were barely rags now.
Blood dripped from everywhere.
He took one step forward.
Then another.
And that was when it came.
A thump.
A single, blunt punch.
It landed square in his gut.
His stomach folded in.
Then another hit his shoulder.
His back straightened up.
A third struck his ribs.
A fourth—his thigh.
His mouth opened.
"..."
No words came out.
Just air and blood.
Then they all came at once.
THUMP. THUMP. CRACK. THUMP.
Hundreds of hits rained down on him.
His vision flashed red, then white, then black.
