[—the scene is exactly as they left it. Amami half-running across the room and hopefully not about to fall flat on his face for it, candles flickering around a chalk circle, Clamor crouched on the other side with his spellbook opened next to him, a startled look on his face...
a look that sticks as the body slumps forward lifelessly, chalk dust scattering when he hits the floor. The hall is finally silent, now, with Amami the only one left standing.
There are no wounds on Clamor's body, still warm like he was in life but no trace of a pulse in his body. Deceased, without a doubt, but spared from the all-consuming void.
The cloaked cultist—Ito-kun—isn't in much better shape. Perhaps there's still a pulse there, a body just barely clinging to shreds of life... but he won't be waking up, either. Whatever was done, it's not something easily recovered from.
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a look that sticks as the body slumps forward lifelessly, chalk dust scattering when he hits the floor. The hall is finally silent, now, with Amami the only one left standing.
There are no wounds on Clamor's body, still warm like he was in life but no trace of a pulse in his body. Deceased, without a doubt, but spared from the all-consuming void.
The cloaked cultist—Ito-kun—isn't in much better shape. Perhaps there's still a pulse there, a body just barely clinging to shreds of life... but he won't be waking up, either. Whatever was done, it's not something easily recovered from.
And Kamo-kun... appears to be sleeping.
The rest is up to Amami.]