Southern Islands
Plewren Continent
High-Level World Toverus
July 30th
Year 1054 of the 50th G.C
"You say one person caused all of this?"
Bewússtsein's voice was low, laced with a hint of incredulity at the sight before 'him'.
The demon general, still kneeling, offered a slight nod, his voice devoid of emotion, like a machine.
"Yes."
There was no hesitation or resistance, only submission. His mind, ensnared by Bewússtsein's control, could do nothing else. His body had long given up resisting, and 'his' spirit had succumbed as well.
Bewússtsein's eyes narrowed as 'he' took in the sheer scale of the devastation before 'him'.
The lingering aftermath of a cosmic artifact's devastation, the spatial tears still hungrily waiting to consume anything reckless enough to draw near.
'His' gaze drifted over the scars in space, pausing where Lostvayne's edge had carved into the fabric of reality.
With a slight narrowing of 'his' eyes, 'he' pondered the implications.
