Reo's body hit the floor with a sickening thud.
Kyle froze.
The world around him faded. Sounds muffled. Sights blurred.
It was like someone had stuffed cotton into his ears. Like he was underwater. His heart pounded so hard it hurt.
He couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
All he could see was the blood.
It poured from Reo's stomach, dark and heavy, soaking into the metal floor of the train.
His friend's spear lay nearby, abandoned. Reo's fingers twitched once… then stopped moving altogether.
The cultist stood over him, still smiling. Still licking Reo's blood off his dagger like it was candy.
Something snapped inside Kyle.
It wasn't panic.
It wasn't fear.
It was rage. Raw. Unfiltered. Blinding.
His breath came out in short, ragged bursts. Every injury on his body.
His cracked ribs. The burns on his legs. The cuts on his arms. All faded into the background.
All he could feel was the heat flooding his chest and the cold, bitter hatred crawling up his spine.
