The sickening crunch of shattered glass echoed off the damp stone walls as Lysander ground his boot heel into the ruined filtration tubes.
A cruel, twisted grin split his pale face under the pale blue chemical lamp. He wore a ripped tunic of ash-gray wool, the right sleeve roughly sheared away to show his thick, yellowing bandages still weeping from Elara’s previous scalpel strike. His breath puffed in ragged white clouds in the freezing subterranean air, smelling strongly of sour mash and rotting pride. With his left hand, he casually tilted an empty glass vial over the floor, letting the final oily drops sizzle against the destroyed charcoal filters.
"Looking for your precious glassware, little Omega?" Lysander mocked, tossing the empty tube against the wall where it exploded into a sh
