Apollo's entire body trembled. It wasn't the involuntary shake of terror, but something far more volatile: the violent, convulsive effort of a man restraining a hurricane.
His muscles were locked in a state of hypertension, his tendons standing out like steel cables beneath his skin as he fought the primal urge to simply lunge forward and tear Rex apart.
Rex watched that restraint with a detached, clinical fascination. Through the violet lenses of his mask, he could see the minute physiological tells: the rapid dilation of Apollo's pupils and the erratic rhythm of his pulse visible in the carotid artery of his neck.
He wasn't just watching a man; he was watching a dam about to burst. More interesting than the physical confrontation would be the psychological one: the slow, agonizing structural collapse of a worldview that had been built on the comforting assumption that the universe possessed some form of inherent justice.
