She spread out in a brilliant darkness, cold and relentless, as if life itself were being emptied—not in a natural flow, but in a silent collapse.
The captain's face froze for a moment, his gaze lost in the surreal scene before him.
It wasn't a man's blood he had just spilled.
It wasn't an ordinary wound.
It was something else… something older, more dangerous, whose magnitude he didn't yet comprehend.
No.
The liquid stirred.
It writhed, changed, like a living essence, rearranging into a new form.
And in a split second, it transformed into a rain of piercing droplets, with speed and precision almost supernatural, flying at the speed of wind.
Each drop sliced through the air with a sharp whistle, surgical, breaking the silence with chilling intensity.
They were projectiles of merciless violence, nearly invisible, but irreversible.
A breath, a muffled cry, then nothing.
The bodies collapsed without a sound, like shadows evaporating into the night.
