When the dust and rubble exploded around, the ceiling shattered upon impact with the floor, but as expected, Maverick managed to roll out of harm's way. Hiding behind a pillar, breathing heavily, Maverick scrambled to his feet, coughing as dust clouded the air.
Maverick slumped against the pillar, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. The sound of metal crashing against rock echoed from below, a clear sign that Julius had understood his warning about silver.
Maverick winced as he shifted his weight, feeling the sharp pain from the injury he had sustained when the ceiling collapsed on him. He gingerly wiped his forehead, thinking it was sweat, but when he looked down at his hand, it was smeared with blood.
He frowned, his mind racing. He can't let others know he's injured. Using his now-ruined suit, he wiped the blood from his head and hand, tossing the garment aside as if discarding his weakness.
