In that single, terrible heartbeat, Yuuta knew.
He had fucked up.
The realization came not as a thought but as a physical sensation, ice flooding his veins, his stomach dropping, his heart stuttering in his chest.
The weight of Isvarn's aura pressed down on him like the ocean pressing down on a drowning man, and he could not move. Could not breathe. Could not do anything except sit there, pinned to the floor, waiting for the ancient dragon to decide his fate.
"You pathetic, weak human." Isvarn's voice was soft, almost conversational, which made it infinitely worse. "How dare you call her name?"
Yuuta's body trembled.
He could not stop it. His hands shook against the floorboards. His knees knocked together. His jaw quivered so violently that his teeth chattered. The fear was not something he could control or hide, it was a primal response, deeper than thought, older than language.
