Twanaku Tupián's ears rang, his eyes stinging with blood. His mind burned, his thoughts scattering like sparks. For an agonizing moment, he couldn't process his situation, couldn't even think about the enemy closing in.
Blood, smelling strangely metallic, trickled from his eyes and nose. His pale skin darkened ominously.
"Ha!"
Lumian spat a blast of pale-yellow light, hitting the suspected Hisoka from barely two meters away.
Twanaku's eyes slammed shut, and he collapsed. Before he hit the ground, Lumian's Symphony of Hatred, a black bone flute, jabbed towards his neck.
Instantly, the tiled bathroom floor dissolved into a vast, muddy expanse of darkness. Arms burst upward.
Some were stripped of skin, all raw muscle and glistening tendon. Others twisted and ghostly, pale and transparent. Some bore bulging eyes that spun madly, others sprouted thick green growths…
The grotesque limbs tore at Lumian and Twanaku, clawing and dragging.
