Raziel's body was hammered, bones broken, flesh seared and burned to ash, yet Atticus' fists never slowed.
It wasn't until his entire body was reduced to mush that Atticus finally stopped.
Though his body still held its shape, Raziel couldn't feel… anything. He was nothing but burned, seared ruin.
Bones ground together, skin gone. Even his eyes were lost. He didn't need to test it, not even the fragments could save him now.
Somehow, he sensed Atticus hovering before him, silently staring down. Raziel reached out with his barely flickering will.
"So this is my end. I always wondered who'd earn it. I'm glad it's you."
Only silence answered him. A cold stare.
As Atticus lifted him by the neck, Raziel let out a cracked laugh.
So he planned to finish him the same way he'd finished his companion…
"You felt it during this fight, didn't you?" Raziel said, despite Atticus' tightening grip. "No weight. No hesitation. That's what you become when you cut out useless burdens."
