The black flames burned his body instantly. They reached his arms.
His hands.
He looked at his hands and watched them decay at the edges, watched the fingers lose their sharpness, watched the skin and the flesh and the bone beneath start to release themselves into nothing. It started to turn into ash as the black fire consumed his body.
Then he looked up at Amon.
His violet eyes, still glowing faintly with the last traces of the purple light that had been burning in them all throughout this fight, found Amon's black void eyes across the distance between them.
There was no anger on his face now. No composure. There was no pride. There was calculation.
There was only fear.
Real, undeniable, ancient fear. The fear of something that had existed for a very long time finally… completely… changing.
Amon looked back at him.
Still smiling.
Still quiet.
He was utterly certain.
