Tenebria stared at the place where her left arm used to be.
The stump wasn't bleeding any more. It was capped with a thin film of grey static, a small local failure of the world that refused to admit biology had ever been there.
Her eyes went Orange.
"Regrow," she ordered.
The Miasma in the air rushed to the wound, spinning into a funnel of hungry repair. Flesh bubbled. Bone tried to put itself back. Then it all fizzled out against the grey and drifted away as smoke.
The world had learned a new sentence: Tenebria has no left arm.
"You…" She looked up, and the shock on her face curdled into fury. "You broke my symmetry!"
She screamed. It wasn't a war cry. It was a weapon, the Authority of Wrath driven into sound, and the sea under us shivered into a boil.
"DIE!"
She raised her remaining hand and let all seven loose at once.
