But Aaron could care less.
He had a day, a precious, fleeting twenty-four hours gifted by the Sovereign Halo, and he intended to wring every last drop of advantage from it before the clock ran out. Allies.
Power. Chaos.
Whatever he could claim in the time remaining, he would take without hesitation or remorse.
The Sovereigns' confusion, their dawning fear, only fueled his calm, predatory focus.
Odin reacted first.
His single eye flared with a sudden, blinding burst of silver-white light, runes spiraling across the iris like living constellations.
The Allfather summoned the full might of his all-seeing vision, peering into the threads of fate and probability to predict Aaron's next move.
Gungnir hummed in his grip, the spear already angled for a killing thrust, its tip glowing with the cold promise of inevitable death.
But in a direct clash of ocular supremacy, Odin lost.
