Theron appeared beneath the night sky, his robes fluttering in the wind. The white and violet of the Nightingale Imperial Academy uniforms seemed quite pristine on his body despite the hardship they should have just gone through.
He could almost smell it in the air. The bloodlust, the rage, the ire that was aimed toward him.
It was quite a curious thing. Or maybe it would have been had he not likely planned for this.
The trouble with killing people with backgrounds you didn't understand, like he just had, was that the trouble that could come after the fact had practically an endless range of possibilities.
For someone like Theron, who liked to be prepared and well-informed about everything, this was almost certainly not a kill that he would usually take on.
But this was a kill that he had to have no matter what.
What remained, and the Aurans and Sangun stumbled out of the portal, not quite able to gather themselves.
"YOU KILLED! YOU KILLED!"
