The Legion got them all, one by one.

(The survivors, that is. They'd already "gotten" the most important people, haha.)

Their breath came out hot and ragged, an uncontrolled frenzy they'd never let themself experience before, indulging in the full potential they'd been holding themself back from. The knife was faster, their legs moved smoother, the survivors fell like the trees in a crowded wood.

What they'd been working towards had finally come together.

Because Frank might have been their leader, but a unit doesn't work without its glue. A squad doesn't hold together without its linchpin. And a person can't operate unless they reach a consensus.

Legion bounced on the balls of their feet, eagerly awaiting the Entity's reward for their perfect night. A warm sensation filled them, and they pressed a hand over their chest, feeling the beat of their own heart as the bloodpoints trickled in. They knew no matter what body they ended up in now, the switching would never be a problem again. They were someone whole, someone new.

And I am so so glad to be alive.