The tension in the plaza was no longer just a feeling; it was a physical weight, a suffocating pressure that made the very air feel thick with the scent of ozone, pulverized stone, and the metallic tang of blood.
As Apollo transitioned into his close-range adaptation, the fight shifted from a clash of macro forces to a brutal, intimate struggle of physics and will. Rex felt the shift immediately. The life affinity wasn't just a light source; it was a predatory force.
As his armored forearm pressed against Apollo's chest, the stone armor began to react. The designation's entropy reversal wasn't just healing Apollo; it was actively reknitting the stone itself.
The cracks in the armor began to hiss and glow, the stone plates fusing back together as if the very matter were being commanded to remember its unbroken state.
"You heal fast," Rex grunted, his voice a low rumble of approval. "Faster than the canyon. I'm noting that down."
