The Contamination (2) Dissecting
"What are you doing?" she asked, her tone a mixture of incredulity and caution. The others turned their eyes to Mikhailis, who stood in the midst of the grotesque remains of the corrupted monsters. The flickering firelight cast long shadows across his figure, illuminating the steady movements of his hands.
Mikhailis's glasses caught a faint glint of light, reflecting the subtle data projections only he could see. His specialized blade, sleek and faintly glowing, moved with a surgeon's precision as he worked through the creatures' mutilated forms. He didn't bother to look up, letting the question hang in the air for a moment before responding.
"Sorting out dinner," he muttered dryly, slicing into a bloated direwolf's belly. A rush of greenish-purple ichor oozed out, the stench enough to make the others take a collective step back.