Control

Even after the voice had long since vanished, the pain in Leonel's chest dulled just as slowly as before. It felt that he was still somewhere in the background, hiding and slowly turning down his pain as though there was some sort of hidden dial that he could tweak up or down. 

It was extremely frustrating, but there was something about being on your knees and being entirely unable to fight back that left one without the same room to grow angry. It was almost as though he had been forced into submission. One part of his body was billowing with rage, and the other part, the part that was still fueled with that pain that was dulling far too slowly, was bearing down like a wet blanket, suffocating his flame. 

Leonel was so infuriated that he roared, but as though it had sensed it, the pain heightened and what should have been a mighty roar capable of causing a mountain to collapse and a planet to quake came out instead like a muffled whimper.