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The Architect’s body slumped out, writhing like a fish out of water.
Vane grabbed the old man by the throat. He lifted him up.
"Look at him," Vane said, forcing me to watch through our shared eyes. "The God of Vane Corp. Drowning in his own piss."
Julian, stop him! I pleaded.
He won't listen, Julian said, his voice full of sorrow. He’s too strong. And... he’s right. The Architect is the enemy.
Vane squeezed. The Architect’s eyes bulged. His chest heaved one last time.