Slowly and ever so carefully, the curved blade of the soul tearing Karambit was pulled out of the soft abdominal flesh. Careful being the most important word as every slight nick of the flesh sent waves of pain throughout the body, and the soul.

It was an especially difficult task since, despite its chipped and cragged looking edge, the blade was razor sharp. Eventually, with a trembling groan, it was pulled free of its fleshy sheathe, leaving behind a gnarly and twisted gap in otherwise perfect, porcelain skin that was already started to become dyed with crimson. Blood flowed steadily from the wound like a scarlet waterfall, every breath being taken causing a wave of new pain to sprout.

Astra winced again, placing her hand across her bare stomach and applying pressure to the gushing wound. She had dismissed the upper half of her armour, leaving her in nothing more than the basic T-shirt she usually wore, with a bands name scrawled across it in writing so worn away it was impossible to decipher what it said originally.

She had loved this T-shirt, especially after going to all the effort to collect it from her apartment during the first month, after they had become situated at the castle. It was one of her favourites from one of her first concerts.

It had survived the apocalypse, countless monsters with all sorts of abilities and even her own destructive abilities. But it couldn't stand her own people.

Letting out another sigh, Astra stared down at the ruined mess of her T-shirt, which she had to cut in half to properly access her wound. Although she had to admit, the cut off style did look kinda cute. Maybe it could be salvaged after all.

As for her blood seeping wound, which seemed to be of much less concern to her than a simple piece of clothing, Astra had a much easier time taking care of that. Even if it was much less pleasant.

Running a current through her hand, her blackened fingers began to spark and crackle once again, before she focused that energy into her wound. Gritting her teeth, Astra held back the urge to groan in pain as the scent of burning meat tickled her nostrils.

Once the wound was fully cauterized, and she was successfully left with yet another gnarly looking scar, she took out a water bottle and began to wash herself clean of her own blood. As she did so, she turned her attention to the individual standing alongside her.

"Stop staring, get cleaning."

"W-what?"

Erik stammered, peeling his eyes away from Astra's stomach as his face turned a deep purple. Beads of sweat, more than he usually produced at least, trickled down his temples as he gently raised his hands, pointing them towards her.

Astra raised eyebrow and tilted her head to the side slightly.

"What are you doing?"

"C-cleaning you? I mean... You... You said..."

"Him. Clean him. Why would I need you when I've got this?"

She raised her water bottle up, shaking it at him, before pointing to Seth who was laying unconscious on the ground between them. His lovely white armour turned completely red with blood. Utterly covered head to toe in scarlet, except from a single portion on his chest where a black handprint was clearly evident against the crimson background.

"Oh... Right. Of course Ma'am. How silly of me."

"Make sure to get the handprint especially. I want no trace of it. Oh, and one more thing."

"Ma'am?"

Astra strolled over to Erik, placing her hand on Erik's chest just like she had done with Seth minutes before. Yet where there was almost a hint of tenderness with her previous performance of this action, there was none to be found here.

In fact, Erik found his chest plate almost drawn to her hand. He had subtly tried to pull himself away, but couldn't move at all. His chest plate was completely glued to her hand, drawn to it like a magnet.

He stared into her eyes, unable to focus on the warm, chocolate brown iris' and instead staring at the glowing cores that were her luminous pupils. When she narrowed her eyes, a shiver immediately went down his spine and it felt almost as if she was already electrocuting him.

"You will not speak a word of this to the others. As far as they need to know, he was left like this from the fall and the attack of the Hell Hounds. We sent them running. Do you understand?"

"M-Ma'am?"

"I said do you understand me? Yes or no?"

"Y-yes Ma'am."

"Good."

Erik stumbled back as the magnetic force pinning his armour to her hand suddenly disappeared. Astra narrowed her eyes at him once more, as if she was wondering whether or not she could actually trust him on this, before turning on her heels and walking away to regroup with the others.

What conclusion she had inevitably landed on, Erik had no way of knowing. Unfortunately, however, he just couldn't leave things as they were.

"Ma'am... May I ask, why do you even want to protect him? I mean he's a squire that just tried to kill you. He went mad and tried to kill you, how can you be sure he won't do it again? What if this was an assassination attempt by someone or... or a possession by some beast?

And... and what was with those glowing string things? I mean you saw that, right? He had glowing strings coming from his fingers. He was using them to throw those hounds around like ragdolls for god's sake. What were those things?

If you ask me, I really don't think this is a good id-"

"No."

Stopping in her tracks, Astra spoke firmly. A single word that completely cut off Erik's rambling and stopped the rest of his words from climbing out of his throat. He tried to get the rest of it out, but all it resulted in was a lump in his throat that he had to painfully swallow down.

She didn't even look at him when she spoke, simply staying with her back to him and looking off into the distance, towards the rest of their group.

Eventually, he found the courage to speak again, although there wasn't much courage in it, as his voice trembled and squeaked with the single word he could get out.

"Wh-what?"

Finally, she turned to look at him. Turning her head, her glowing eyes pierced through the veil of her two toned hair as she glared at Erik over her shoulder.

"No. You may not ask that, and I certainly did not ask you for your opinion."

Without waiting for his reply, or even caring if he gave one, Astra continued walking away once more with measured steps.

Erik was left standing there, his face completely purple, as he became thoroughly invested in the cleanliness and appearance of his own boots. Only once he was sure she was gone did he finally sigh and turn to the unconscious madman.

His eyes trailed over the absolute mess that was his armour. He didn't have to wonder what he did to get all that blood on him, he left being plenty of evidence. Bodies broken and beaten, even when it wasn't effective. Erik had seen plenty of bloodshed in the last few months, and had dealt plenty of his own, but there was just something disturbing about this aftermath.

Especially when it came to two particular corpses, stabbed and cut apart repeatedly as if they were being torn into by a feral animal not for food but for some twisted, sadistic pleasure.

His eyes lingered on the decapitated head that was still attached to the squire's arm, as well as on the hand from which he had seen those strange glowing strings appear. They were no longer there, as they had disappeared as soon as the squire lost consciousness.

But when the pair had come running at the sound of screams, this was definitely not what they had expected to see.

Erik shook his head, kneeling beside the blood covered squire and gently lifted his head, slipping off his helmet and placing it to the side. At the very least, he could make sure that he didn't have brain damage from that dreadful fall, at least that might explain something.

But while he couldn't find evidence of head trauma, he did find blood. Stains of blood on the squires chin and on his lips, as if he had bitten into raw meat.

Erik shuddered at the sight, looking down at the savage squire with a complex expression, but most of all a look of fear. Taking in the entire sight of this disaster, he shook his head and looked at the squires face, which almost seemed peaceful in his slumber.

"What the hell is wrong with you? What are you?"

Alas, his questions went unanswered, as is to be expected when you ask such things to an unconscious man. Left to dwell in a mixture of his own thoughts, Erik began to create and control fresh water to wash away the blood, all the while keeping a close eye on the squires face for any hint that he was awake and about to attack.