The silence in the Void Temple was a heavy, velvet vacuum that swallowed sound and rough breaths alike. But between the two figures standing on the obsidian dais, the air was literally screaming.
Sol stood before the throne, his heart hammering a frantic, violent rhythm against his ribs….thump-thump, thump-thump… a mortal drumbeat in a timeless room. He looked down at Isylia.
She stood on the edge of the stone step, her small, perfect feet gripping the black rock as if trying to root herself against a coming storm, her chin tilted up in a gesture of supreme defiance. Her solar eyes… swirling with hot pink and burning orange… glared at him with the intensity of a laser.
Even then, she couldn't help trembling. Obviously not from the non-existent cold of the void, but from a cocktail of indignation, shame, and a terrified, buried tiny bit of anticipation that she couldn't quite squash, as even though she was a primordial goddess, this was gonna be her first time.
