Rex's silvery eyes remained fixed on the gauge.
His body was now a furnace of agony that had been burning for ten unbroken minutes.
His vision blurred, but he would not blink.
His teeth ground together with such force that he felt the enamel splinter, and still, he didn't look away.
Looking away from the gauge felt wrong, as he was determined to have it reach the next stage before he did something drastic. The divinity pouring into him from Mayar was vast—an ocean of power stolen from an imprisoned God—and yet the gauge consumed it all, climbing with agonizing slowness.
The pain was beyond description.
Every nerve in his body screamed in unison, a requiem of fire and static that threatened to tear him apart from the inside. His muscles spasmed, bones creaked under the strain—threatening to crack, and his veins bulged like rivers of molten light beneath his skin,
And still, the gauge sat at blue.
It was the third threshold.
