Prisoners Of War

• TITANS LANDING, SIX MONTHS LATER.

THE CLANGING OF HOLLOW CHAINS echoed in the pit dungeons of the royal castle at Darkwake. In the largest chambers of the sordid prisons, a gods-damned cavern hundred-feet tall and twice that in breadth, lay Israfel. Upon first glance, the Apollyon couldn't be recognized. . .for he was not human.

No. He was Titan.

Ninety feet of scarlet bulk: muscle made of stone, veins running in magma, skin hissing volcanic steam, black smoke pouring out his nostrils, and his huge gilded eyes leaking streams of fire. He was to the entire continent, the captured Red Titan, the Rebel Lord.