And yet—
In that moment, his crimson eyes blazed—ominous, deep, almost glowing.
They pulsed like twin stars, and to Nero, the world seemed to slow down.
Time bent.
The whistling of arrows became muted hums.
His vision expanded unnaturally, almost 360 degrees, as if he had stepped into a moment outside of time.
His instincts——screamed.
There!
Amid the deadly barrage, a single, narrow corridor of safety, invisible to normal eyes. A sliver of space that could be his salvation.
He didn't hesitate.
Just one step.
He moved—not randomly, but decisively, flawlessly, guided by pure survival instinct.
To reinforce that sliver of hope, he called forth his flame.
Whoosh!
Crimson fire exploded from his back, taking the shape of flame-forged wings, elegant yet wild. They didn't spread outward—but folded inward, wrapping tightly around him like a protective cocoon.
Ta! Ta! Ta!
The arrows hit—like the pounding of war drums.
