The Captain dropped to both knees when the second guardian crumbled.
His claymore slipped from his hand and struck the tiles beside him, though the sound seemed to arrive from across the ruins.
Blood had dried between his fingers, but the trembling would not stop as his wounded shoulder sagged and bruised ribs turned every breath shallow.
'How long has it been since I emptied myself completely in a fight?'
The answer came with an old shame attached, and the answer was ten years of restraint.
He had spent a decade suppressing his real level, fighting at half capacity. Effort carried him back to the day his full strength had failed everyone.
Now he had nothing left to hide and scarcely enough strength to lift his head.
"Captain," Helen called from the opposite side of the road.
The first guardian had driven her against a slanted wall, and six blue Shards flashed around her wrist while dark gaps appeared between their pulses.
