The battlefield did not erupt immediately.
For a brief, fragile span of time, it simply froze.
Saleos was the first to stop.
He hovered above the shattered second layer, flames still burning along his arms and shoulders, the laws of fire humming instinctively around him as if waiting for his next command. His attack had already been released, his will already committed but his eyes were no longer on the enemy.
They were locked upward.
Toward me.
For the first time since I had met him, Saleos forgot to hide his face. The commander's mask cracked, just enough for the truth beneath to show. Shock struck first, sharp and sudden. Then disbelief, his eyes narrowing as if the battlefield itself had lied to him.
Then his breathing changed.
Slow. Heavy.
Hope surfaced, uninvited and dangerous.
