The sound of armor buckling and ribs snapping echoed sharply across the battlefield.
Sol's body was lifted entirely off the ground by the sheer physical force of the Layer 4 strike, skidding violently across the gravel for ten feet, leaving a dark streak of blood in the white dust.
"Sol!" Kira screamed through the gag being forced into her mouth, her eyes wide with tears as she thrashed against her binding.
"Sol!" Zeyra also shrieked, struggling frantically as blood trickled from her forehead.
Vane marched after him, his face contorted in psychotic delight. He reached down, grabbed Sol by his hairs, and yanked him up to eye level, before driving a massive, fist directly into Sol's face.
BANG!
A spray of dark crimson blood bursted from his nose.
Vane didn't stop. He slammed his fist into Sol's face again, and again, and again.
"Die! Die! Die!" Vane roared with every strike. "This is for my son! This is for the Zharun!"
