Silence, for a breath.
And then, the altar trembled.
A suffocating weight descended, invisible and absolute. The Lunaris Throne gasped and dropped to his knees, his spine bowed as the pressure bore down on him like the gravity of a dying star. The air crackled. Blood on the walls began to ripple.
Then came the voice.
It rolled through the chamber like thunder wrapped in Primordial Energy. Smooth, commanding, and cold as death.
"You need me?"
The tone was laced with mockery. Deep and unrelenting.
"You need me. As if your needs were relevant. As if a starving dog gets to demand a feast."
HUUM!
The Lunaris Throne shook. Sweat poured down his face, his head bowed, teeth clenched.
"No. You do not need. You ask. You beg. You plead for a droplet of water to fall from my hand. That is the level you operate on. That is the place you've always belonged."
Each word slashed through the darkness with cutting grace.
