Harbinger clone hits eyes from 300 ft away

"Harbinger," Swansong said, keying her voice to be something closer to haunting, "Think you can beat all of these guys when your power's working again?"

"Injured, so no," the Harbinger said.

Swansong turned her head, shooting him a glare.

"Give me four rocks I can throw and my power at eighty percent and sure."

[...]

"Paris, Thud, and Contender. They're going in the same direction we are. They cut through the trees between the outcroppings, way over there. Harbinger Two saw them."

I looked. 'Over there' was three hundred feet away, down in a valley. The trees were thick. I was surprised they could see anything.

"Good to know."

"I want to shoot," Harbinger Two said. He was the one who was most aware and able, sitting on Moose's shoulder still.

[...]

He held up his slingshot.

Contender was looking to join religious extremists after being far too okay with what had happened. Paris was worse.

"I won't stop you," I said. "Maybe don't kill."

The Harbinger nodded. "I said I'd balance the equation."

He slipped something like a marble into the slingshot, drew it back so far that one arm was outstretched, holding the slingshot itself, and the hand with the marble clasped tight in it was against his shoulder.

"Killing isn't enough," he said.

"Wait-"

He released the shot.

I didn't finish my protest or clarify the point. It was done.

"Okay," he said, turning away. "Problem solved."

- Heavens 12.4

"Paris brought Contender back."

"And?" I asked, a little tense.

"He needs medical attention. Badly. You took his eyes."

His eyes.

Almost gentler than I'd expected, but… it sat oddly. There were other avenues of attack or wounds that left some quality of life. But the eyes? That affected every moment of every day from here on out.

Was that worse than death to a Harbinger?

- Heavens 12.5