The abyssal flames burned, consuming Thor’s shields for every moment they licked at it’s surface. The overwhelming heat of the fires had begun to turn the mecha’s sapphire blue exterior to a pale red.
Michael’s face was grim. Those self-same fires were devouring him in the same way he hoped they were destroying Zeus. He could already hear the frame of his Angel of War groaning, growing weak as the alloys softened. But where he was slowly being melted to slag, the situation was rapidly worsening for Thor.
The red of it’s surface had darkened to an angry maroon as it’s shields began to fail. However, despite the heat Thor had yet to display any signs of melting. Whatever alloy it was composed of was valiantly resisting destruction. The cockpit of the great mecha was similarly protected by virtue of a thin, pale shield.
