Blood flowed from the wound across Ning's palm, running between his fingers before dripping onto the polished floor of the palace corridor, while Number 4 watched him from beneath the visor of the royal guard's armor.
Her eyes held the confidence of someone who believed the battle had already ended.
The wound on Ning's hand perfectly matched the cut she had made across her own palm, possessing the same length, depth, and angle despite nothing ever touching him, and after examining it for a few moments, Ning understood that her power allowed her to share the injuries she inflicted upon herself with another person.
"How do you feel?" Number 4 asked.
"I thought you were here to kill me," Ning said. "This isn't going to do the job."
"You think I can't kill you this way?" she asked.
Ning looked her down. "Can you?"
