The sound of bone hitting stone echoed across the training hall. An announcement of his failure that no one present could rationalize or ignore.
Byron's breath came in ragged gasps now, his lungs fighting against pressure that wanted to compress them with inexorable force.
His hands remained splayed against the floor, his fingers scraping at the polished stone as though he could somehow find momentum against a force that existed at a fundamental level.
'Get up,' his mind commanded, frantic and desperate. 'You are Rank #1. You have trained your entire life. You have beaten every opponent. You have...'
The pressure intensified fractionally, as though Rhys had simply allowed his presence to become slightly more apparent.
Byron's arms gave out entirely.
His body collapsed forward, his hands sliding across the stone as he tried unsuccessfully to catch himself.
