"Liora," the heroes yelled, their movements sluggish from the haze obscuring their still-arising minds. The terror in their expressions were fitting, the wound growing more gnarly once Liora's soul had integrated into her body in a forced slam.
The brand ingrained in the translucence of her spiritual form burned at her very skin, relapsing to the same moments when she'd first been given the wound.
Although she didn't even have the time to open her eyes, she was forced to convulse from the quick onset of pain. Her arms flexed, her waist turned, and her face widened.
Like meat on a flame, the air basked in the sizzle that projected from her wound, its heat forming a bright red that revealed itself even through her clothes, burning away at their very seams.
