She howled. Not in anger this time, but in raw, unfamiliar pain. It was the sound of something realizing too late that it could still suffer.
The bruising, injuries, burns and the sheer humiliation was too much for the Usurper. One who lived its entire life refusing death, and refusing that anything above itself existed.
Unlike the immune body she had once possessed, the angelic origin that had shielded her from such sensations, the [Living Vessel] offered no such mercy. It could grow stronger with time, become sturdier, mightier, but it was not there yet. It could not compare to the Exoskin she had abandoned. Regret burned clearly in her eyes as pain wracked her, the realization dawning that she had given up something irreplaceable. She had believed Wrath would be her salvation, only to find it incompatible, devouring her from within.
"Quite the conundrum, isn't it," Ludwig taunted, lifting one hand behind him with deliberate ease.
