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    Summary

    There was no comfort to be found in this fear, except perhaps the knowledge he could still feel it. It was a cold fear, freezing him in place as he attempted to fight his rogue hand, only to be overpowered for it to wrap around his neck and squeeze tightly. He wheezed around it, struggling to pull it off as he tried to force his other hand to move only for it to be wrested by his side, pinned behind his back.

    It feels like an eternity he’s trapped powerlessly within his own body. His hand around his throat constricts more until his struggling calms, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Only then does the hand release him. Phainon inhales on a wheeze, coughing and gasping for breath, even though there is none.

    Irontomb takes control of Phainon's body. Phainon refuses to go down without a fight.

    Language:
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