The wind swirled around him in patterns that seemed to have no random element. The wind looked more controlled than how Jack looked as he was growing hungrier and hungrier for battle.
His white hair whipped around his head in arcs that traced patterns in the air, his dragon scales catching light and reflecting it in fractured patterns that created visual echoes.
The black veins across his body seemed to glow with their own internal luminescence, creating a corona effect that made his entire form appear to be surrounded by moving shadow and darkness.
Tharaxis's analysis materialized in Jack's mind with the absolute, freezing weight of an executioner's ledger.
"The Herald cannot mount an effective resistance. The impact has completely pulverized his remaining wing musculature, and his structural cohesion is deteriorating at an exponential rate. Survival probability is currently forty-seven percent and dropping with every heartbeat."
