Helios stared at the stinking pile.

It wasn't really the weight of having killed the siren. Well, not totally. He'd known that standing up to the League and their followers would mean fights, and superpowered fights meant a high degree of danger. He'd known on some level that he might have to kill, even if he tried hard to avoid it. But so far he'd fought undead, and the proxybots at the museum. He didn't think of himself as a killer. And the enemy this time had been an undead spirit. It was debatable whether it had been 'alive' to start with. Was the siren any different than the other undead the cult threw employed? And even if so, what happened to the spirit now? Did some essential part of the spirit pass on to the afterlife? Or, with its spiritual essence dissolved, did it simply cease to exist?

But the technicalities withered under the feeling of ripping out the siren's aether like air rushing from a deflating balloon.

He'd planned to weaken it enough to subdue. Then between him and Ariadne they could try interrogating it. Surely a spirit capable of animating the illusion outside had at least held some memories. But once the spell had taken hold...

He still felt ill, but he forced himself to kneel over the pile and examine it. They'd come to this place in hopes of finding why Manchineel avoided this place, to find a key to defeating her. To stop her and save those they still could.

Spoiler: OOC
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Helios will examine the siren's remains, looking for clues as to what exactly the siren was or how it came to be, and anything else that might stand out as relevant. Expertise (Magic) (1d20+20)[23]