"Who... who are you really?" Adam asked, his voice cracking.
He wasn't looking at Sunny anymore. He was staring at the Emperor's right hand, or rather, the absence of the humanity in it.
Where flesh and bone should have been, there was a mixture of laws.
"I don't know," Sunny admitted, his voice quiet but echoing with a strange resonance.
He clenched his fist, and the cosmic hand vanished, hidden once more beneath the black glove.
"But from what I know... this hand can help us in our predicament. If the Demon Lords rely on breaking rules, then I simply need to be the one who doesn't let them break these rules."
Adam stared, still paralyzed by the revelation. Sunny sighed. He could see the gears turning in the Old God's mind: fear, awe, confusion. He needed to snap him out of it.
