The air froze.
Not literally but something deeper. A hush that gripped the world by the throat. Every breeze, every bird, every breath held captive by the weight between two men.
Vernon took another step forward.
Each movement cracked the pavement beneath his bare feet. Blood oozed from the gashes across his chest and legs, sizzling into steam as it touched his overheated skin. Smoke curled from his shoulders. His clothes were in tatters burnt, torn, soaked in red.
Still, he smiled.
Still burning.
His voice rumbled like a broken furnace.
"You shouldn't have come, Tyler."
"You'll only slow me down."
Across the ruined street, Tyler said nothing at first. The wind brushed against his long coat. His face was calm unshaken.
Then, with quiet ceremony, he reached up and removed his glasses.
Folded them.
Tucked them gently into his coat pocket.
"I don't need to be fast," he murmured.
"I just need you to stop."
And Vernon moved.
