The heavy, musk-scented silence of the chamber was broken not by a roar of triumph, but by a long, loud, and incredibly unceremonious yawn. Rex, the conqueror of queens, the man who had just rewritten the genetic destiny of two entire races, let out a yawn so wide it looked like his jaw might unhinge, his eyes squinting with the sheer, unadulterated laziness of a man who had just finished a marathon.
He rolled onto his back, sprawling out like a giant, tan mountain of muscle, completely indifferent to the fact that he was currently lying in a literal lake of semen and royal sweat.
He was just about to drift into a glorious, coma-like sleep when a sound pierced through his drowsiness.
"Ahem!"
Rex didn't move. He just closed one eye, looking at the ceiling.
"Ahem! Ahem, ahem!"
The sound was louder this time, more insistent, and carried a distinct tone of indignant annoyance. Rex sighed, a long, dramatic sound, and slowly turned his head to the side.
