Her arm screamed in pain, but Liz resisted the urge to make any more than a pained grunt as she struggled to escape. Her every action only worsened the pain, and slowly and steadily, her copy began ripping her arm off. She needed to think, come up with something, but the pain was debilitating. She mentally reached toward her core to Tier up, damn the power loss.
Then, her mind settled on another option, and she went for it.
Her arm gave way halfway up the forearm, tearing a ragged stump up to the point where it had been regrown not a month earlier, and Liz’s resolve to not scream in pain was broken. Though, she retained enough presence of mind to carry out her plan.
In the instant before her arm tore, she wretched herself away, tearing it early, and in her right hand, she summoned a dag
