Rex didn't reach for a weapon. He didn't summon a blade of divine energy or prepare a spell that would crack the foundations of the domain.
Instead, his hand moved with a casual, almost insulting familiarity toward his left jacket pocket.
He pulled something out.
The throw was not the graceful arc of a telekinetic spell or the calculated trajectory of a seasoned warrior. It was something far more unsettling.
It was a flat, human throw, the dismissive toss of a man throwing a piece of trash across a room. The throw lacked any pretense of respect for its target.
The object sailed through the amber gold haze, cutting through the swirling temporal symbols like a stone through water. It landed with a wet, sickening thud at the very center of Kaeleth's manifestation.
Kaeleth, the God of Time, whose consciousness spanned millennia, froze. The entire domain seemed to stutter.
