Ren's jaw clenched as the coppery taste of blood hit his tongue, thick and bitter as old coins. His boots dragged furrows through the cracked terrain, the soles grating against the earth like nails across glass. Every joint in his arm screamed as he held it aloft, the weight of his fist suddenly reminiscent of an angry planet—a crushing gravity that threatened to pull him into the dirt.
His entire body trembled, not from fear—at least that's what he told himself—but from the slow, cruel collapse of a body being asked to do one thing too many. Each breath felt like inhaling broken glass, each heartbeat a thunderous toll that counted down to failure.
