Midas cradled Jasmine in his arms, noticing that her breathing was steady even though she was unconscious from the intensity of the battle. She would grow stronger from this. Midas was looking forward to what she would become.
It took strength to grow stronger. Only the strong can let go of weakness and grow stronger. That was something Midas knew better than anyone. After all, he used to be the weakest person he knew.
Feeling the soft thrum of her heartbeat against his chest, Midas smiled as he was quietly reminded of the struggle it took to come this far. The battlefield around them was still a chaotic mess, with discordant sounds of beast roars and people's war chants everywhere, but at that moment, none of it mattered to Midas.
Even with the air thin with the scent of blood and the tang of ozone from discharged powers and weapons, nothing could ruin this moment.
