Kaiser stood amidst the wreckage, his chest rising and falling rapidly as sweat streamed down his brow. His breaths came in short, ragged bursts, each inhalation feeling like a dagger in his ribs. Dust choked the air around him, mingling with the thick, metallic scent of blood and scorched stone. His vision blurred at the edges from fatigue, flickering like a failing lantern, but he refused to let his gaze drift from the figure across the battlefield—his enemy, his obstacle, his test.
Bert.
The warrior who had not only resisted Alzalel's Gaze but emerged from the abyss of his own mind with terrifying clarity.
The man who stood as a wall against the tides of Kaiser's fury.
But now—finally—he was panting too.
