The ground quaked, tremors pulsing through the plaza as the last remains of the Face of Regret twisted and collapsed inward, bubbling with black ichor that hissed against the cracked concrete. The flesh curdled and bones snapped into new shapes, but this one didn't rise smoothly the way the others had.
It twitched instead, convulsing in fits and starts, like something fighting its own reassembly.
Jin tightened his grip on the staff, his breath still uneven from everything that had come before this. "Stay ready," he muttered.
Seul wiped blood from her chin, adjusting her gloves. "I thought Honor was going to be the worst of them."
Joon rolled his stiff shoulders, his blasters still faintly smoking. "Pretty sure we just got upgraded to something worse."
