"Ha ha ha ha..."
Corax's corpse made a sound.
The scraps of flesh scattered across the floor trembled in resonance with that sound, writhing as though alive.
"You're right," the voice continued. "Everything I possess is borrowed—borrowed from the gods, borrowed from the Warp, borrowed from the shadows. You're absolutely right, Man of Iron."
His voice suddenly turned savage. "But why do you think the gods won't grant me power again? Why do you think I've been abandoned?"
The scraps of flesh began to glow, and black flames erupted from every piece of his remains.
Those flames gave off no heat, yet carried a suffocating pressure, shrouding the entire corridor in an eerie darkness.
"I am the gods' sword." Corax's voice echoed through the flames. "I am the executor of their will, the embodiment of their wrath, the punishment they have visited upon this rotten world. As long as I fight for them, they will grant me power—endless power!"
His shattered body reformed amid the surging black flames.
The scattered flesh flew toward the center as though drawn by a magnet, joining, fusing, and reshaping itself in midair.
Bones regrew, muscles rewove themselves, and skin covered them once more.
Corax's body was reborn in the flames, stronger, more twisted, and more terrifying than before.
"You're a district," Anna said coldly.
"Shut up! You don't understand anything!" Corax roared in fury. "You're nothing but a machine, a soulless tin can! How could you possibly understand my bond with the gods? How could you possibly understand everything I've sacrificed to resurrect Bella?"
His body continued to change as he roared.
Black wings sprouted from his back, formed from countless pitch-black feathers. Dark flames burned along the edge of each feather, like blades set alight.
His head began to twist. His once-pale face