The training ground had become a wasteland. Ice craters and scorched earth marked where they had clashed. Steam rose from the frozen ground, mingling with the fading sparks of lightning. Nero and Khione faced each other across the broken field, both breathing hard, both bleeding from small cuts and burns.
She had asked for this. She had demanded he not hold back. And he had not. But now, watching her struggle to catch her breath, watching the fire in her eyes that refused to dim, he realized something. She was not satisfied. She was not done. She wanted more.
He could give her more as she desired.
He closed his eyes and reached deep into his core. Not the primary core, not the second. Deeper. To the brown star that had awakened in the mountain, to the earth that slept beneath his skin, to the weight and patience and unyielding strength of the world itself.
His eyes opened. They were red, but deeper now, flecked with brown.
The ground beneath him trembled.
