Blood
Aina felt as though all the wind had been knocked out of her. The faint light of hope she thought she could grasp on to suddenly went up in smoke, disappearing like a fleeting fragrance in the wind.
After a moment, the male Invalid finally recovered from his shock.
That last struggle of Aina's, especially the shout, had actually put a dent in its stamina. Though it wasn't as exaggerated as him being on his last legs, at least a third of his reserves had been sapped up.
In truth, Aina's breakthrough wouldn't have made a difference. It was the final act of defiance that truly impacted him.
But, it seemed that this final push had truly taken whatever she had left out.
When the Puppet Master recovered, its gaze narrowed, a slight hint of ferocity hidden within their depths.
"It seems that you don't understand how to be grateful, what a shame."
The male Invalid reached up from Aina's cheek, ripping the crown from her head.