The aftermath in Kaeleth's domain was not the silent, hollow vacuum that a normal engagement produced. When a god loses a piece, there is usually a moment of divine shock, a stutter in the heartbeat of reality, but Rex knew better than to expect mercy from the architect of time.
A cold, sharp dread began to crystallize in the pit of his stomach. He knew this before it manifested as a physical threat, because he had learned a lesson in the blood-soaked halls of Lustia's domain.
'Knowing what is coming is not the same as being ready for it.'
Knowledge was data; readiness was survival. And Kaeleth was not an entity that accepted the theft of its own power without attempting to reassert control through sheer, devastating recalibration.
Rex felt the shift first in his marrow. The air didn't just change temperature; it changed logic.
The fundamental rules governing his own movement began to feel viscous, like he was suddenly wading through cooling mercury.
