The localized mana-storm was an absolute, concentrated bombardment of kinetic and thermal violence.
For forty agonizing minutes, the golf-ball-sized chunks of heavy, jagged hail rained down from the blackened, swirling sky. The deafening, continuous roar of the ice shattering against the cliff face drowned out the howling alpine wind.
Ren stood entirely immovable on the two-foot-wide ledge.
He was a massive, two-hundred-and-seventy-pound biological shield. The heavy, matte-black ballistic canvas of his military trench coat took the brunt of the kinetic trauma, the thick Kevlar weaving straining against the relentless impacts. The hail that bypassed the fabric struck his bare, exposed tungsten skin and the jagged, overlapping obsidian plates of his Chitin Shell. The dense ice instantly pulverized into fine, white powder upon colliding with his abyssal-grey epidermis, completely failing to leave even a microscopic dent in his Level 25 armor.
