There's a weird feeling that comes with seeing your own body torn in half.
A feeling that isn't pain but sure as hell isn't pleasure either. It's something far beyond both, something the mind isn't really built to process.
And right now, I was experiencing it from the front row.
Most people die when that happens.
Somehow, I was still alive.
I was floating inside my Trickster Domain or, well… half of me was.
Because I sure as hell hadn't managed to dodge Vael'runn's attack.
I mean, the bastard was a God and of course this damn domain just had to perform its dramatic little card-dance routine before pulling me in, instead of just teleporting me instantly like a sane system would.
If it had skipped the theatrics, maybe I wouldn't have arrived in two separate pieces.
Still, at least I wasn't dead.
Small victories, I guess.
But the domain looked… weaker than before.
