Rex stared at her, his eyes distant, as if he were already standing in the center of a divine storm, calculating the wind resistance of his own soul. He wasn't arguing with Lustia anymore; he was rehearsing a ritual of slaughter.
"I already have Infinite Regeneration," he said again, but the words were quieter now, stripped of defiance and replaced with the cold, mechanical precision of a general reviewing battle plans.
"I'm not questioning you... I'm stacking."
"Full Potential Adaptation layered over Infinite Regeneration gives me a body that a temporal god cannot damage through anything he has wielded twice."
"The first time he strikes, I bleed, but then... the second time he strikes, he finds I am no longer made of the same substance he intends to break."
His fingers flexed unconsciously, imagining the grip on a weapon. "Dimensional manipulation provides the breach; it gets me through the door and into his sanctum."
