He rose.
The dragon's might awoke in his limbs like old fire.
Phei felt the power settle along his thighs and calves and the long slope of his back while the cathedral hollow's beneath his ruined training shoes accept his weight and begin to brace for what was to come.
The Titan was already moving.
He thought fuck it — the small as his savage thought overtook cleverness — and moved.
The first step did not crack the ground much as split it open.
A long jagged wound tore outward from his right boot in a six-foot arc. The moss-veiled stone simply could not hold the weight of three hundred and forty stats of a dragon's single stride.
The fissure raced up the tree he had been driven through earlier and ran along its trunk like a fresh scar before the stone decided it had voiced its complaint and fell silent.
He did not feel the step but only what came after.
The world folded around Phei and distance bent like a curtain pulled by an unseen hand.
