The final stitch closed across Hoyo's chest.
He remained on the stone table while the graft settled, one blood-soaked hand resting beside him and the other hovering above the fresh incision. Iron, preservatives, burned herbs, and alchemical stabilizers thickened the air. The last of those solutions still clung to the tubes and silver instruments surrounding the table, keeping the stolen heart alive long enough for Hoyo to place it inside himself.
Hiro's corpse lay beside him with its chest opened and the ribs spread apart. The empty cavity looked strangely small for something that had once carried so much divine favor.
