The kinetic energy of the strike simply ceased to exist. Vane had funneled the usurped gravity of the Event Horizon and the crushing dual mass of Samsara into the star steel blade. It was a strike calculated to pierce the hardened necrotic core of a Mid Justiciar. It was a strike that should have shattered the crypt.
Instead, it ended in absolute silence.
Vane hung suspended in the follow through of his thrust. His boots were planted in the pulverized stone of the flooded corridor. His right shoulder burned with the exertion of the blow. The Silver Fang was locked perfectly in place. The matte silver blade, glowing with the heavy grey light of absolute severance, was pinched between the thumb and forefinger of a pale hand.
Vane looked past the tip of his weapon.
