The whistle pressed to Sylas' lips shattered to pieces, shredding his lips apart and nearly taking out a decent chunk of his skull. It could be said that he was fractions of inches from dying from that backlash alone, but he hadn't.
He realized the problem instantly, and he deduced it even faster.
There was a moment where the world fell into a pause, and Sylas could only stand there in silence.
He had been completely drained when he started this process. The only reason he didn't go and rest first was because he knew that with how fatigued he was, he would need more than the three days' rest he had had when he first returned.
If he fell asleep now, it might very well take him another week to wake up.
