Blind Rage
From his vantage point atop the first floor of the factory , Paul faced the source of the piercing beam in disbelief.
The light was unmistakably powerful, a beacon that dashed their own efforts and signified a triumph that wasn't theirs.
His grip on the metallic railing tightened, his knuckles white against the cold metal.
He had driven his team relentlessly, pushing them to the brink to secure their place amidst the chaos.
And yet, here was the undeniable proof that Jeremy had beaten them to it.
The light from afar was a harsh reminder of his own failure.
Jeremy. The name echoed in Paul's mind with a bitter resonance.
He was trying to be composed but he was doing a bad job.
The realization hit him with the force of a tidal wave, washing over him and leaving a cold, hollow void in its wake.
The old fear of failure he had had at the council of the gods was now resurrected.
The fear of Jeremy winning.