In a realm stripped bare of every element, every concept, every whisper of definition, a single being lay in undisturbed slumber.
No aura radiated from him.
No strength pulsed outward.
No pressure weighed on the void around his form.
Yet to mistake him for weak would be the gravest error.
Only a vanishing few across all existence could ever hope to stand against him, and even they would hesitate.
"Hmm?" the being murmured to himself, voice low and thoughtful.
The sound rolled outward like a quiet shockwave.
Distant entities, formless watchers, lingering echoes of power, collapsed inward on themselves, folding into nothingness without a scream.
"The nine brothers… have returned?"
He paused, tilting his head slightly in the dark.
"No. Not quite."
A faint smile ghosted across unseen lips.
"Someone has gained their soul."
