Maximilian's whole body jerked at the command, terror ripping through him.
"N-NO!" he shrieked, voice outright shattering from the urgency with which he spoke. "You're insane! You've gone completely mad if you think I'll-! I WON'T! I WON'T! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"
He scrambled on shaking legs, slipping in blood and water, hands flailing against the tiles as if they could shield him. His fear was frantic, unfiltered, animalistic. Spit flew with every word.
"I REFUSE! I WON'T PICK UP ANYTHING! I WON'T!"
Dante just watched him.
Cold. Unmoved. Expression carved from stone.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm enough to freeze bone.
"I'm not asking for you to comply, Maxie."
The second slap cracked across Maximilian's cheek, snapping his head sideways.
"I'm ordering you," Dante growled, stepping forward.
Another slap.
"As a superior man,"
SLAP.
"As a superior fighter,"
SLAP.
"A superior"
SLAP.
"fucking"
SLAP.
"existence."
