Seven meters away, Apollo emerged from the Academy gates, Kaelira trailing close behind him.
Apollo was a mess. He was still vibrating with the aftershocks of the engagement, his energy signature flickering like a dying candle, only partially stabilized by Aisella's restorative work.
His clothes were shredded, his skin bruised, and his face was a map of exhaustion and dried blood. He looked like a man who had spent twenty minutes trading blows with a geological god and another forty minutes wrestling with the very fabric of space itself.
Objectively, he looked a thousand times more battered than the Avatar.
He limped toward the Avatar, his boots crunching on the debris, and stopped directly in front of him.
Without a word, Apollo swung his arm and hit the Avatar on the shoulder.
