Octavius's eyes burned colder.
The defiant light in them sharpened into something almost glacial, the Greed behind it refusing to give Noah the satisfaction of a verbal response. Noah didn't need one. The eyes were answer enough!
He got started.
He waved his hand, and on his palm boundless multicolored Infinity converged together. It braided into a sharp point. It elongated into a blade. It settled into his fingers as a scalpel of pure Infinite light. He twirled it once between his fingers, the way a surgeon might test the balance of a new instrument.
He lowered the scalpel to Octavius's chest.
The tip touched the skin of a supposed fucking Chosen One, and the skin parted.
