Skin hard as diamond pushed against Dagger’s throat. The callouses on his neck kept the diamond texture from making brown flesh bleed green. Delicate time spent training made sure all the vulnerable parts of his body were forged into something tougher. Still, the unpleasant sensation did nothing about his breathing. He tried to slow it, steady it, but the pace of the moment didn’t allow the necessary calm to come.
His feet lifted off the ground as his back pressed against the moldy wall. The ferments of the organisms surviving off the city’s filth filled his nostrils. A pungent odor only contributed to his difficulty breathing. His hands pushed against the forearm of his attacker, but it did no good. Normally, a push from Dagger knocked the average Maghandi through a couple of steel walls. But he dealth with one of his own. An Imbued.