Rex's breath hitched in his throat.
His body froze, his mind struggling to process the sheer horror of the moment.
Jaegel was still alive.
His final attack—his strongest attack—had done nothing.
A cold sweat ran down the side of his face. His muscles locked up, his instincts screaming at him to run, but he couldn't.
He didn't have the strength.
Still, he forced himself to move.
Slowly—painfully slowly—he turned his head, using every last ounce of energy left in him.
His neck ached, his bones groaning in protest.
And then—
His gaze met Jaegel's.
The heretic stood over him, arms folded behind his back, his thin lips curled into a smug smirk.
His slitted eyes glowed dimly in the darkness, their eerie light sending a chill down Rex's spine.
Jaegel's chuckle slithered through the air, low and venomous.
A disgusting trail of spittle dripped from his unnaturally long tongue, splattering against the floor as he let out a raspy, mocking laugh.
