His boots sank half an inch into the cracked stone as the weight drove him down. His veins bulged along his neck like coiled serpents, his jaw clenched so tightly that his molars produced a grinding sound that could be heard over the distant screams of the children.
He dropped to one knee, then onto one unsteady hand, his entire body straining against the invisible titan pressing him into the earth. He wasn't injured; there were no bruises, no bleeding wounds, but he was utterly paralyzed by the sheer inevitability of the force.
His eyes burned with a hatred so pure it was almost reverent.
"You'll have your turn, Leonidas," Rex said.
His tone was casual, almost conversational, like a host promising a guest a seat at a dinner table. "But tonight... tonight does not belong to you."
Rex's gaze shifted back to Helena, his eyes dark and hungry. "Now..."
"...where were we?"
