Azriel watched in stunned silence, his mouth slightly open, as both heads exploded like overripe fruit. Subject 431 just stood there, grinning as though he enjoyed every bit of it. The sight made Azriel sick.
Killing had begun to feel familiar to him; he was slowly adjusting to it. But this—this was something else.
With a slight tremor, Azriel forced himself up, wincing as his right hand throbbed painfully. He glanced at Subject 431 with a mix of caution and curiosity, pressing his hand to his chest, probing the spot where he'd been hit. He pinched it, prodding further.
Nothing. Total numbness.
Noticing Azriel's reaction, Subject 431's grin widened. He spread his arms in a theatrical gesture, his voice filled with amusement.
"Caught on quick, didn't you, kid? Good! My [unique skill] does exactly that—anyone I punch will go numb in that spot."
Azriel's eyes narrowed, both bewildered and wary.