Feycalibur had been shattered into a million microscopic shards that now littered the floor like powderized glass. With a faint thud the white woman's bra joined the shards of her blade, both straps having been sliced off by the flying shrapnel. "It... it cannot BE!!" the knight stammered, dropping the hilt to the floor. "But I... I was the CHOSEN ONE!!" (Patreon)