The Sentinel stood up, in the dark, as the two titans collided. He observed, and reached for his dark magic, hoping to somehow stem the tide of black blood leaking from his wounds.

Nothing came of it, and he discarded the idea, simply watching in pained silence as Vargas slammed arm-spines into the flesh-beast, as there was blood, and bone... as the Master leaned on the forming gemstone. And finally, as he approached the Sentinel.

He considered the questions.

"It... does not know," he admitted, rasping. "Whether it will... survive." Drip. Drip. Drip. One hand lifted to hold the junction of neck and shoulder, where puncture wounds bled freely. "The creature... approached. Did not halt. Attacked." He thought back--had it attacked first, or had he?

"The Sentinel brought shadow, to prepare. The creature charged, and sought to attack. The Sentinel struck first. But... it is large," he added, somewhat mournfully.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas eyed the Sentinel sourly.

He knew what he could do.

He also knew that his magic invariably fucking backfired--this was a complex use of it, and not his native element. Well--it was that or his gate guard might wind up in a gemstone for a few weeks. Vargas steeled himself. "I will try something. It is likely to fail, or more likely to make things worse, so... brace yourself." With those heartening words, he reached for his magic.

It crit-failed, indeed, and blue blood began to stream from the Sentinel's wounds. "Ahh, hell," the Master murmured, and reached to apply pressure physically.

Damn, damn, damn.

The Sentinel stared as Vargas spoke. He was about to protest when he felt the magic begin its work, and he jerked back, head twisting away.

But Vargas had ripped his blood out of him, and the unpleasant, dizzying sensation flooded him. His head buzzed. The room swam. The Leviathan's hands were gripping his wounds, but--too late; he was falling.

Corrupted, oil-slicked onyx spread from his chest to engulf him, curling around his body.

What a mess--and his last muttered words, an annoyed "You idiot," were luckily choked off by the stone.

exit Sentinel to chrysalis

- THE LEVIATHAN -

"HELL," he repeated, as the black form began to slump before him. He caught him, stopped him from falling, at least; but the gemstone was spreading rapidly.

Vargas hauled him as close to the Black Spire as he could manage before the stone began to settle, and then left him in the cover of some boulders--charred, jagged rocks upthrust by Draconua's tantrum of emergence. The Sentinel could rest there.

I wonder what he was about to say? Vargas wondered; the hound-beast's words, a "You-" had been choked off. Hm. He could ask it later, he supposed.

For now, there was little else he could do; he'd need to guard the Aperture himself, but at least this one had proven its worth.

Sort of.

It hadn't won the fight, but near enough to--and it wouldn't have been knocked into its stone if his magic hadn't made things so much worse. He didn't feel guilty about it. Well, not very guilty. Useless magic. Disgusted, yes. Guilty?

...Only a little.

He'd monitor the fleshbeast's stone--and the Sentinel's--and see how things went from there.

exit Vargas