It was hot inside the god, far hotter than it had any right to be, and the air in there was not really air but a red mist that came off the walls of the chest in slow waves.
Jumping inside the body of a god was risky, but fighting it from outside was more dangerous.
The red mist settled on my skin, and my skin began to smoke. I looked down at my arms and watched the outer layer of me going grey and soft where the mist touched it, and then peeling, and underneath it the Law of Flesh was already pushing new skin up to replace what was lost, so that for a while I stood there being eaten and rebuilt at the same time.
Without the strength of Adamantium, I would have melted into a puddle of goo in a second. Acid and decay, I thought. I had watched that blood turn the valley floor to glass, and now I was practically swimming in it.
