Weight of Will
Leon exhaled.
"…Let's go, buddy," he murmured.
He tugged the blade free.
Nothing happened. Just silence. Then stillness again.
It wasn't the knife that held back.
It didn't hold back. That wasn't the reason.
Yet strength hadn't reached Leon's limbs, so motion stayed out of reach.
Fingers of his clenched the handle hard.
Knuckles whitened.
Flesh tightened along the arm, veins pushing under damp surface. Muscles swelled without warning, each one alive under glowing salt-streaks.
A noise slipped out from hisen, quiet but rough. It wasn't quite air, not quite warning - more like stone shifting under weight. The moment held it before silence took over again.
The sword shifted.
Barely.
A bit shorter than one full inch.
A low sound came from the stone altar below. It seemed to shudder under its own weight.
A weight pressed down, just slightly, making Leon sink into himself. The air seemed heavier on his back, like something unseen was now part of him.
