Even from this distance, he could see it, through the barrier of his labyrinth and the location he place his labyrinth… the faint, ominous red drizzle seeping through those fractures.
Blood Rain of Karma!
It hissed softly as it landed on the space barrier, each drop sizzling, gnawing away like acid not at the physical world — but at the very soul of reality.
Draeven extended his great clawed palm, steady but tense. A few drops splashed on his scales and hand — and instantly, he felt it.
A wave of weakness flashed through him. His soul shivered. Not from pain, but from something far worse — a deep, invasive corrosion that gnawed at the roots of his being, dredging up memories and regrets he had buried long ago. His mind staggered for half a breath.
His face darkened, eyes flashing dangerously.
Without hesitation, Draeven clenched his hand and flicked the droplets into his void ring, isolating them instantly. The soul-deteriorating effect vanished, trapped and suppressed.
