บท 119: Puppets

"The… The White-Haired Assassin?!"

Fear had such a grip on Tomislav's heart and mind that he could neither blink nor breathe. 

In front of the hovering being, Tomislav felt like an ant. His existence inessential, his thoughts inconsequential, and his life meaningless. For the second time in his life, Tomislav experienced the vastness of the Galaxy and horrors within it. The only thing to lament was that one of those horrors had somehow ended up near him.

"Berb… Christin… Hahhhh!"

Cough!

As Tomislav muttered the name of his teammates, his lungs got devoid of the pitiful amount of air within them. The sudden feeling of suffocation made him take a deep breath and cough, taking him out of his petrified state. He looked around and found Berb and Christin sprawled on the ground. Berb was making twists and turns while grunting in pain and seemed to be unaware of the surrounding happenings. The purple on Christin had receded, but she was still out cold.