Unable to speak under the overwhelming mental pressure of the ruby-eyed Andres, his chained duplicate could remain, only silent in the presence of both Alexandra and Jean. His gentle, ocean blue eyes however, did move to catch sight of both Jean and the White Queen as they called his name in a voice simultaneously combining both of theirs. Disgusted by the apparent display of compassion, the malevolent Catalan voiced his distaste for the situation, "Pathetic", he stated, the venom from in his words, unnatural to one of Andres' nature. His journey to the depths of Hell having truly warped his already affected mind to an inhumane consciousness driven only by ambition and mercilessness.
Dashing towards his intended targets at blistering speeds, the Malevolent Monarch had unexpectedly found his peerless speed forsaking him. Elevated vision enabled him to narrowly view the psionic webs that he had unknowingly trapped himself in. Seemingly caught and defeated, there was but a single alternative for him. Kill his remaining goodness. While physically suspended in a web of psychic intricacy, the ruby-eyed Andres angrily broke his usual composure, "You're weak. You've always been weak", he murmured, referring to the chained Andres. Diverting his attention back to his primary opponents, a defiant grin forming on his face as he telekinetically seized control of the chains around his moral counterpart. Tightening them as they exerted pressure on his innocent duplicate, his intent was to destroy it prior to himself being destroyed by his charging opponents, for if there was no longer any goodness within him, his return would be inevitable.
The telekinetic capabilities of his Zero Field however, paled in comparison to the psionic might of even one of the psychic five, much less their combined efforts. In a swift movement, pain radiated across his torso as five European longswords had pierced into his abdomen and chest. Initially struggling, refusing to relinquish his influence, malevolent Andres found his attempts futile. Through meticulous hypnotic suggestions, he had previously managed to steadily coerce his kinder half into embarking on his descend to Hell, cleverly orchestrating his rise to control. Perhaps in a final act of defiance, he spat in his opponents' direction before his impending demise. Fading into psionic oblivion, the restricting chains around the gentler Catalan disintegrated. Freedom was his once again. Silently rising to his feet, he instinctively established eye contact with all, but in particular, Alexandra herself. He was unsure of what to say, clearly though, he was thankful. Remaining a cautious distance from the five, he knew not what to do. Almost instantly, regrets of allowing this to happen invaded his mind, regrets of failing to do anything to prevent Quintus' death, regrets of allowing children to die in a conflict commenced by the growing influence of his darker side, regrets of not being by both Ellie and Ziccarra's side in comforting them in Quintus' death, and his regret for turning on both Jean and Alexandra.