DEAD. —nothing but grunts and bloodcurdling yells during their fight, Adelaide begins to speak with slightly slurred words.]

“He to*% his v0;pal [ ] in hand;
Lo!# tim} the manx%me foe he s#ught—
So rested he by the [ ] tr;e
And st*%d awh1le in th%ught.”

DEAD. [Words that sounded like they were butchered by a corrupted and damaged machine, as if a different force had overtaken their ability to speak. Their eye, wide as saucers with a mix of adrenaline and ferocity glowed alight, refusing to falter from their target as they ducked and—

DEAD. —bobbed through his own battered fists. The blue haze in their hands started to create a solid form resembling a hilt, made of what appeared to be… Letters?]

“%ne, tw o! %e, tw o! And thrOuGh and throuGH—”

[They swore they were gritting their teeth so hard they—

DEAD. —risked shattering them for their next move. Adelaide dares to get up in his face to deliver a sharp headbutt without any warning or thoughts about another close-ranged attack, mustering all their strength to force him back. They’re hell-bent on making him lose balance and fall—

DEAD. —back one more time. One. More. Time. Just a few steps back!]

ADELAIDE HHRGHHH--

[ corian keeps swinging - missing - god damn it. GOD DAMN IT. if he was mara, he could've knocked their head off with one punch. fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! WHY WON'T THEY JUST DIE. ]

[ their headbutt knocks the sense out of him - and corian stumbles back - +

ADELAIDE but not before his tail wraps around adelaide's neck. ]

ghh- GHHRRRHHH--

[ fuck this. fuck his stupid limits. if he's going to die, he's not going to die a magic-less loser. so what if he gets a seizure? corian forces his flow to speed up, flame sparking around his fists as +

ADELAIDE he lunges, and his brain melts into impulses of kill flay eat carve HIS NAME INTO THEIR BLEEDING BODY KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM. KILL THEM NOW KILL THEM NOW KILL THEM NOW. ]

[ KILL THEM NOW OR IT'S OVER. ]

DEAD. [The tail wrapped around Adelaide is nothing but a light weight to carry and a stark reminder of their mortality, hanging over like the sword of Damocles. Time moves at a snail’s pace, all sound and feeling numbed as they hone in on one single target by instruction of his—

DEAD. —file. All that repeated in their mind, more savage than a calculating machine of a man: SUPPRESS. KILL. MAIM.]

“THE VORPAL [ ] WENT—“

[Frankly, they don’t remember how they mustered enough energy to scream out and dash forward; right into him, trusting that whatever—

DEAD. —had formed in their hands was enough. What would cross Corian’s sight was not an average blade, no, but one made of tangible words written in a radiant blue mixed with a hazy, dark aura that cut through rivaling the speed of a fired bullet. Their whole body, for a second, was—