The black had spread to his fingertips.
Atlas lay sprawled in the dirt, and even through the haze clouding everything, he could see it happening to his own hands. Veins of deep, oily darkness crawled beneath his skin like something alive and patient, mapping out territory it had no business claiming.
He couldn't feel it. He couldn't feel anything.
That's the part that should worry me more. Funny how the brain decides which alarms to sound.
Around him, faces blurred in and out of focus. Elyndra's, pale and frozen, mouth half open like she couldn't decide which words to use first.
Kurogasa's, jaw locked so tight it looked like it might crack. Dullorak's, for once completely without a joke ready on his lips, which honestly scared Atlas more than anything else happening to his own body.
All of them close, all of them useless, hands hovering in the air because there was simply nothing left for any of them to do.
Is this it, then.
