Dexter's POV
The world shook beneath me.
Not just the ground. Not just the air.
Everything.
Like the very fabric of existence was being torn apart and rewritten in real-time.
I had felt power before. I had stood in the presence of monsters, of kings, of creatures that could end entire bloodlines with a whisper.
But this?
This was something else.
This was Behemoth.
He was not just strong.
He was the concept of destruction made manifest.
A god—not in the poetic way humans loved to throw the word around, but in the purest, most horrifying form.
His mere existence was reshaping the space around him. The walls of the underground chambers were warping, expanding and contracting unnaturally, as if the very earth couldn't decide whether to hold itself together or collapse under his presence.
The air was so thick with pressure that my lungs burned.
And when he opened his eyes,
I felt my very soul recoil.
