Sand crunched underneath the Vizard’s boots as Laskt clambered over the lip of the crater formed by his abrupt departure from Las Vegas. The Shinigami winced slightly as the motion aggravated his aching arm muscles, but pulled himself over the lip nevertheless. He frowned, I do not like how much damage zat did, especially since zat Hollow is a fast regenerator. I will have to work on my staying power.
He thought to himself.
Soberly, the Vizard turned to his right, gazing at the burning city of Las Vegas, repeated muffled booms echoing out across the seemingly endless expanses of moon-lit desert. Even as Laskt watched, a particularly violent blast toppled one of the city’s high rises, causing the glittering building to crumple and dissolve under the energy blast, the remains falling into the dust-choked ruins of the city.
The sight made the Vizard’s blood boil and, for the first time in decades, a real, tangible sense of anger took hold of Laskt. He clenched the hilt of his sword, his pulse quickening and his breath hissing out through gritted teeth. Logically, Laskt knew there was nothing he could have done; the mere shockwave of one of those blasts had been enough to heavily injure him and sending him flying for miles! However, in the core, emotional, stubborn part of his soul, Laskt itched to Flash Step back to the city, and stop the Espadas.
It was perhaps fortunate that in that moment of indecision, that the Vizard finally located the Snake Hollow with his spiritual senses. Immediately, Laskt vanished from his previous position, his aches and pains forgotten, appearing in front of the regenerating Hollow, his sword alighting with a holy flame. This time, the blade wasn’t a light, probing stab or a dedicated thrust that Laskt usually employed. The Vizard, his face contorted by grief and rage at his failure, swung three times in sweeping, lightning fast slashes, aiming to bifurcate the Hollow into eight different pieces.