The ruined corridor became a stage of impossible stillness. In the center of the carnage, Valentina and Morwenna lay like broken offerings, one gasping for air, the other drowning in pain, while between them stood two titans.
On one side, Rex Rexilion: the picture of heroic defiance, his stance unshakable, his eyes blazing with a righteous fire that seemed to warm even the cold stone.
On the other, Xerollion: a predator wrapped in shadow, his masked face unreadable, studying his opponent with the detached fascination of a scientist examining a new species of insect.
Every remaining soldier held their breath. The silence was absolute, broken only by the distant drip of blood from a cracked ceiling and the ragged, wet coughs of the wounded.
No one could have predicted this standoff. No one could have guessed that this wasn't a battle between hero and villain but a confrontation between truth and its echo.
