Orcus
Motion was forced motionless before her final argument, the possibility of response stolen from his eyes, his last stroke returned in spirit if not power, and flesh at last gave way before the blade of will. Orcus's nerves were steel, his spirit immortal and his muscles forged from philosophy, but his blood was just as warm and slick as Mira imagined it.
His core thrummed.
For a triumphant heartbeat, electricity passed between the very anchor of the primal's physical being and Mira's skin. During that brief spell, she could feel it. The immense flow within, dancing light and shadow that parted the emptiness beneath crude matter and mere signals to one day become inert, reined to a great darkness. It was so easy to imagine what she could do if only this was her own engine, instead of the treacherous strands of her sickly cells.
A tanned hand clasped her bloodied arm, still spearing Orcus's gut. And there he was, the heart of darkness, smiling satisfied at her like he'd found a diamond among countless grains of coal.
Then his grip lost strength, and he slipped from hers, falling onto the ruined mat with a dull thud. Blood pooled around his lips and abdomen as he stood still. Only his mouth flapped. "I forfeit."