A violent shudder ran through Adam's massive frame as Ignis's powerful wings carried them deeper into the network of high, narrow tunnels. The adrenaline of the fight and escape was fading, leaving only the screaming reality of his injuries.
Lilith, now settled securely on Ignis's broad back, immediately got to work. Her human-like hands, pale and graceful, hovered over the worst of his wounds—the deep axe gash from Derek, the punctures from arrows and bolts. With a clinical, dispassionate focus, she began to channel her psychic energy, not as a blunt healing spell, but as a precise, surgical tool. She located the first embedded arrowhead near his neck.
"This will require extraction," she murmured, her voice a melodic, chilling contrast to the gore she was addressing. Her fingers found the shaft.
"Ahgg! Easy, Lilith… go slow," Adam grunted, his jaw clenching.
