Sylas felt as though all the bones in his body had shattered in that moment, but there was an ice-cold chill that remained in his eyes—especially when the sneer on Authrione's face froze and he roared out in pain.
Sylas flipped across the ocean's surface, what should have been a flexible liquid feeling no less harsh and grating than solid earth at his speed.
Even so, he flipped back onto his feet with a single kick of his heel, spinning through the air until he landed on the tips of his toes and glided back to a stop.
His body flickered with motes of emerald, but now there was something new there. It wasn't the violet of his E-Grade Scorpion Warlord Armor, but instead something else.
A silvery blackness. The silvery-dark hues of a second 100-Foundation Aether.
