As Guardian Angel's upper body hit the ground, there was no moment of silence, no breath of peace. Instead, blackened flesh writhed, and in a grotesque display of regeneration, new legs erupted from his severed torso, sinew and bone reforming with unnatural speed.
The discarded lower half disintegrated into ash, swept away by the ambient energy of the Maw.
He rose again—bloodied, half-smiling, half-snapping.
His gaze immediately snapped to where Ethan's voice had come from, but the boy was no longer there.
Instead, Ethan was kneeling beside Striker, who lay unconscious, body broken and barely clinging to life.
A soft glow of golden light began to pulse from Ethan's hands—healing energy, steady and warm. The crackling storm around him dimmed just enough for his companion's breathing to stabilize.
Ethan's voice was calm, but firm.
"Don't worry. You'll be okay."
Angel stood frozen.
A healing ability? But… wasn't he a forsaken? A bottom-tier E-Rank?
