The Fallen Angel knelt on one knee, his wings folded tightly behind his back, trembling ever so slightly.
The vast training hall felt suffocating. Ever since Victoria's gaze had fallen upon him, his heartbeat had spiraled completely out of control.
It pounded against his chest like a raging war drum, each second stretching longer than the last. His throat went dry, sweat gathering along his temples before slowly sliding down his face.
He swallowed hard.
Victoria stood before him like a silent calamity. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly, reflecting neither patience nor mercy.
"Are you going to speak… or what?"
Her voice was quiet, almost lazy—yet the killing intent hidden beneath those words pressed down upon the Fallen Angel like an invisible mountain. The air itself grew heavy, breathing becoming difficult.
The Fallen Angel immediately lowered his head further, fear tightening his voice.
