The general could foresee its end, and it could also taste its victory.
But the general, and more importantly, the Queen, forgot one important trait. As Dummy devoured more and more of the general, his body adapted.
He chose to keep the beast hybrid's shape and wings, but the general's unique essence, the essence of unbridled strength, was being completely consumed and assimilated into his very being.
And that wasn't all. With every shred of flesh torn from the general's body, Dummy's regeneration accelerated.
The cracks in his skull were mending mid-pulse, bones pushed back into place, almost resisting the destructive pressure the general applied. His once mangled jaw unhinged wider before it realigned itself.
The general noticed, and by then it was far too late.
Indignation? Resentment? Honor?
