From his vantage point atop the shoulder of the shield giant, Khepri stood like a statue of divinity—unmoving, but all-seeing. Dust still spiraled in the distance where Alex had fallen, the air crackling faintly with the dying remnants of lightning. Yet Khepri's gaze was already locked on the boy—calculating, silent, unmoved by the destruction around them.
For the first time in this battle…
Alex had not charged back.
That alone said everything.
Until now, the boy had always come back. Every time Khepri struck him down—every time he was hurled through the sky by a stone colossus or sent spiraling by a redirected blow—he returned with more ferocity, more precision, more power. Each return was immediate, like the snap of a whip, a rallying cry of a soul that refused to kneel.
But now?
Alex was still.
