The grinding sound of flesh being crushed between massive jaws continued for several long seconds after the titan's screams had dissolved into broken echoes.
Wet splatters struck the dark crystalline floor and slid across it in uneven streaks.
Even Pope Winston, who had presided over public executions in the name of the Light God without so much as blinking, felt the weight of that atmosphere press against his lungs.
Amon watched him carefully.
"Do not give me reasons to make you my pet's food, Winny," the demon lord Amon said in his guttural voice
"You may not know this, but whenever he sees you, his mouth starts dripping like he has been starved for a thousand years."
Amon's words settled in Winston's chest like cold metal and he gulped hard. He kept his back straight, though his fingers had curled into fists within his sleeves.
