Bab 333: Dud Part 1/2 (but let's be real here it'll probably be out of 3 because I underestimate stuff)

Steady hands placed a sack of black powder and dragged its fuse to the edge of the table's shadow before moving on to the next. The enemy was not the hoard of demons on the other side of the shoddy wall which Thomas crept along nor the volatile nature of black powder - it was mistakes. In training, both Alexander and Jameson had been merciless in reminding the naive youth verbally and physically. The summation of those harsh times boiled down to two minutes and thirty-three seconds. It felt like an eternity.

The unlit match - if by chance he were to scrape it against something - would blow up the first line of defense, not to mention kill him. If his rigid body creaked and gave his position away, the demons would kill him. Worst of all, a mistake could prove how useless he was to the rest...again. He shivered at the thought of Frey's vein-filled face. Despite the pressure bearing down upon him, his heart rate was normal. It did not beat a single time.