Director spear pressed against Reinhard's throat, her boots planted firmly on his chest. Around them, the others lay sprawled across the stone floor.
Joseph, clutching his ribs, Marie's spear rolled just beyond her fingertips, Scath's crimson-black hammer scattered beside her prone form.
The floor beneath them gleamed like black glass, reflecting their battered forms while Anasha stood there watching with wide eyes.
But then footsteps echoed from behind them.
Reinhard's eye darted toward the sound, straining against the pressure on his throat. The entrance they'd come through had a figure emerging from the passage. The man paused at the threshold, silhouetted against the dimmer light of the corridor beyond.
Then he stepped forward, and it was Phineas. He was wearing a black suit with a gold chain glinting across his vest, glasses that he lowered over his silver eyes. He stopped, head tilting as he surveyed the defeated group scattered across his stage.
