His heartbeat slowed, More and more until It steadied itself.
Beneath the chaos, beneath the entities, the burning ropes and the agony in his side and the blistered skin on his wrists, there was still him. It was his body, His mind, His Route core and definitely His spiritual energy. Why were they trying to take control?
He was tired.
Tired of being directed, tired of never having a say in his life, done with people playing with him like a puppet.
And he was tired of being buried.
Makun didn't pull consciously. He didn't think, or need to do anything to expel them. His body, his soul, just did it.
Like coughing up water after nearly drowning.
His spiritual body contracted.
Everything that was him, his will, his memory, his rage, his pain, collapsed inward, pulled toward the Core like gravity dragging debris into a black hole.
And the entities, already weakened by the ropes, already destabilized and burning, couldn't hold on.
One by one, they were torn away.
