Even while the world was seemingly ending around him, Sylas just kept staring at the little black box. In fact, saying that it was a little black box hardly did justice to what it well and truly was.
Not only was it heavy beyond compare, but it was so black it almost felt like Sylas wasn't holding an object at all, but instead a force of nature. Not a single bit of light that hit it could bounce away. It was instead swallowed into an unfathomable depth, never to rise again.
'Something feels off.'
A voice in the back of Sylas' head was continuously speaking. It was a little voice that always told him when he was missing something, or there was a line to connect that he wasn't quite yet ready to connect.
And then it suddenly did.
An image of Alex flashed in Sylas' mind. He remembered the mask the former always wore, the tendrils of darkness he used in battle, and just how much that reminded Sylas of the box he was seeing in his hands right now.
