Zaafea wrapped dark energy around his hand and then grasped Clint's face. Using the remaining aura that the Church of the Netherworld's leader had left in Clint, Zaafea initiated a distant conversation with him.
"Hey! Where did you learn this trick?"
"What's it to you? Don't interfere with my plans, or don't blame me for not considering our old ties!" the cult leader bellowed.
The connection cut, and Zaafea was repelled by the powerful force.
"Damn, that old guy hasn't changed one bit. If that's the case... Mr. Melton, you must hold on."
...
In the darkness, Clint could not even see his own hand in front of his face. With each second that passed, his worst nightmare—his brother's death—played in his head. He saw his brother fall to the ground and then look up at him.
"It's all because of you. It's all because of you."
"It's... all because... of me?" Clint trembled with fear, his entire body shaking.
"Give it back! Give me back my life!" Declan had transformed into a twisted demon, and he lunged at Clint.
Terrified, Clint turned and ran, sprinting desperately until he tripped and fell. At that moment, a hand reached out to help him up.
"Thank y—" Clint began, but standing before him was Balmort—Landrich—who was staring at him with dead eyes.
"Why? Why didn't you save me back then?"
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