Sol kept it like that for a long time… fist buried in its guts, slowly destroying it from within while keeping it alive through sheer force of will and corrupted healing energy.
Only when the sun had moved noticeably across the sky did Sol finally decide it was enough.
He pulled his hand free with a wet squelch, then grabbed the captain by what remained of its head. With one final, brutal twist, he snapped its neck … but not cleanly.
He left the spine partially intact so death wouldn't come immediately. The captain's body twitched and jerked in the mud for several more minutes, eyes still wide with awareness, before the last spark of life finally flickered out.
Sol stood up slowly, covered in green blood and yellow ichor. His breathing was steady. His expression was ice-cold.
He looked at the carnage around him.
All around him, the Zerith "elites" were laying dead in the mud. The gully was dead silent.
