"Stop!"
The Crimson reaches his hand in desperation.
"Don't hurt her!"
Blaze releases his grasp, the misery pressing on the Harpist's soul subsides.
"How are you doing this?"
The Crimson says.
Blaze doesn't answer. He walks slowly around the Crimson, keeping a safe distance to avoid being caught with his explosive speed.
Yellow energy pours out from the Brutalist and the Runner, two fiery souls flying into Blaze's hand.
Three fresh souls are now within his grasp, the souls of the A-Force members, comrades of the Crimson.
The Swordmaster hears a screeching noise inside his ears.
The noise that haunts him for a long, long time.
The sound of soul-snatching.
He opens his eyes wide. His eyeballs turn completely black with red irises.
Black tentacles grow inside the hole in the Swordmaster's stomach. They connect with each other, slowly turning into fresh new flesh and healing its wound.
The Swordmaster grabs his sword and uses it as a cane to stand up.
