Cough!
Cough!
Cough!
Simon coughed blood onto the broken stone.
Something heavier struck the ground with it. Small pieces of damaged tissue lay among the red, and his next attempt to breathe brought another mouthful.
The collision had undone too much. Flesh that UnholyRegeneration had barely joined had torn open again, while the foreign Aether continued resisting the repairs. His body folded around the pain, knees drawing closer as he turned his back toward the God of War.
One hand pressed against his torso. His shoulders shook.
Behind him, footsteps approached at an unhurried pace.
"A cloud of dust," the god said. "And then you crawled."
He stepped around a piece of the buttress his own attack had broken. Simon's blood marked its edge.
"What did you hope to accomplish? Did you believe I needed clear air to find something bleeding this much?"
Simon answered with a cough.
