The roar makes the resounding slaps from the beginning seem almost like murmurs. Weightiness suffuses the air, pushing up against the spaces between the house and the eaves. The windows and doors don't creak and groan, but they should with how heavy the world has become.

"Well now, a little disappointed that I stole away your meal." The voice remains springy, but as Tina watches the stranger on the porch, she notices the stillness of his posture. The armor he wears gleams silver even in this place without light.

The girl's breath catches in her throat. Since when was he wearing armor? Didn't he grab her with bare arms now encased in silver?