Rex fell into a silence so heavy it felt as though the gravity in the domain had tripled. He didn't move; he didn't even seem to breathe.
He just stood there, a monolith of simmering, lethal realization.
"I... I fucking get it now..." he whispered, but the whisper held the vibration of a tectonic plate about to snap.
"The six months," he said, his voice cracking like dry earth. "That's the bullshit everyone keeps saying. 'It's been six months.' 'We've had six months of progress.' 'The timeline is six months.' There is no way... there is no fucking way it has already been six months..."
Lustia watched him, her heart aching for the man who was currently dismantling his own sanity. She saw the way his hands began to shake, not from fear, but from a violent, kinetic energy that needed to be released, a need to reach out and throttle the very concept of time itself.
