Gumarak bellowed, "Time to cut his head and send it to Garius!!!" His laughter echoed loudly through the shattered hall as a dark, wicked blade formed in his hand. He spun it once, savoring its weight, then began to walk—slowly, menacingly—toward Javier's motionless body.
The air was thick with bloodlust.
His steps grew closer and closer.
And then.
Javier sat up. Casually.
Like he'd just woken up from a nap.
He stood slowly, cracking his neck left and right. He then looked down at himself.
"Ewww… it's sticky," Javier muttered, rubbing at the blood-like goo smeared across his armor. "Damn. I shouldn't have used this batch for my act." He flicked some off with a finger and grimaced.
"If Liana saw this…" he sighed, imagining the scolding. "She's totally gonna nag me. 'Young master!! What's with the syrup all over your clothes!'"
He brushed his shoulders, casually flicking more of the fake blood away in annoyance.
