Rex didn't run; he glided. He moved through the streets of Aethelgard like a predator through tall grass, the temporal distortion around him making his approach silent and unnerving.
Theo was a mess of panicked motion; one moment he was sprinting down an alleyway, boots pounding against stone, the next he was desperately taking to the air, his wings of golden light flickering erratically as he tried to escape the gravity of his own failure.
"Running won't change the ending, Theo!" Rex's voice boomed, not from his mouth, but from the very air around Theo's ears. "You can fly to the heavens, but I own the space between the stars!"
WHOOSH BOOM!
Without warning, Rex snapped his fingers. A lance of concentrated cryo magic materialized midair behind Theo, streaking forward like a comet.
Theo twisted his body in mid-flight, the ice grazing his ribs with a sound like shattering glass CRACKLE and leaving a trail of frost that burned his skin.
