Grey could practically feel it buzzing through the air. The hairs on his arms stood tall, even what danced on his scalp felt far more rigid and charged now than ever before. It was like the air had become completely filled with static.
His clothes felt uncomfortable grazing against his skin and danger warnings filled his head.
Time slowed and it felt like any moment now, a bolt would smash down from the skies, cutting across everything in its path and ripping up any semblance of life he had remaining until there was nothing but dust and ash left of him.
That comprehension coursed through his very veins, a realization and understanding blooming in his mind as Prometheus flickered to life within him.
The echo of the Volthari's clan name boomed across his mind.
The Ashen Arc Clan.
Grey's grin spread cheek to cheek, nearly ear to ear. A digital crimson painting across the grates of the Helm Frame as though to project an image of what flickered in his heart and raged in his bones.
