The sky was torn as if a plane of glass had been cut down the middle. A black, bullet-like form was the cause of the c***k, and as reality shook, a second c***k formed that shattered the horizon, caused by a second bullet. A cross-shaped rift in space tore the entire airspace above the jungle asunder for dozens of kilometers in all directions, a winged human figure caught in the middle.
The remaining two Panthers were dead. Two clones had been sacrificed to create a technique that could prove lethal or at least heavily damaging to many mid-tier C-grades. The remaining Panther stared down at the cracked space before it, the rift perfectly torn in a straight line. The only remnant of the human having ever been there was a single arrow fired just before the collapse. One that flew harmlessly
