The words were a quiet, yet heavy!
A declaration of such profound, unadulterated tyranny that the very fabric of Collapse seemed to hold its breath.
Before My Way of Existence, none of you matter!
Tatiana, the Ashen Dream Queen, floated amidst the silent, orderly ranks of her legion, her obsidian-gold eye a swirling vortex of analytical fury.
The air crackled with the contained, terrible power of the Prime Dead and their Armors, a silent, suffocating sphere of absolute, ordered death that now fully encircled their target. And yet, the target… did not seem to care.
"How are you doing this?" she asked, her voice a low, dangerous purr that was more a demand for data than a genuine question. "That Codex of yours… it is not a standard design. What is it?"
Noah's gaze, cold and sharp as a shard of frozen time, swept over her, over the silent, menacing figures of the Prime Dead, and over the hundreds of Dead Existential Armors that formed the walls of his cage.
