Evelyn didn't scream. She didn't weep.
She didn't even curse his name. The shock of his revelation had burned through her fear, leaving behind something colder than any storm, a vacuum of pure, focused intent.
She lowered her body into a runner's crouch, her center of gravity shifting until she looked less like a girl and more like a weapon primed for discharge.
Her voice, when it finally came, was terrifyingly quiet, stripped of all inflection. Her anger had passed the volatile stage of rage; it had crystallized into something absolute.
"I don't care what your system is," she said, each word cutting through the charged air like a scalpel. "I don't care what world you came from or what mark you carry!"
"You killed Apollo...! And you tore Elliot's family apart...! MY FAMILY!"
"That is the only truth that matters."
Rex's laughter was a low, guttural sound that rumbled from the depths of his chest.
