Five immense cavities that the fabric of space tried and failed to fix hung in the middle of the vast expanse as if they were permanent injuries now part of that separate universe.
Those long wounds bled, or at least their version of that. Their pitch-black, bottomless insides constantly leaked darkness, which the red sparks still flickering on the injuries' edges broke and devoured.
That constant drain on the universe's energy and the continuous absorption from Khan's sparks could hint at his steadily growing advantage, but his state depicted the opposite trend.
Khan was pale, hunched forward, his abs tense in a desperate attempt to protect himself from damage he couldn't possibly avoid.
Red blood stained Khan's lips and their surroundings, and more of those drops hovered in front of him, sparks still crackling within them, opposing the annihilating properties of the very universe they occupied.
