At the far end of the True Frequency of Fate, Master Hannibal slowed, golden robes fluttering around his frame as he steadied himself midair. His gaze was glacial, but his right hand, the one that had touched her…trembled ever so slightly.
He took a single step.
And instantly, he was back.
A flash of power.
A flicker of space.
Beings like him were too powerful as Primarchs could not even begin to understand.
But this time, before he could advance again…
"Man, come on."
A lazy drawl cut through the tension like a breeze slicing through fire.
Master Shen stood there, gourd in hand, his form blocking Hannibal with an almost bored grace. He took a long drink, smacked his lips, and grinned.
"Let's hold off on being hasty, okay?"
Behind him, Master Etheopa's expression remained rigid. Others still looked on in stunned silence, their eyes fixed on the girl who had just casually swatted a Master of Existence.
Master Hannibal's jaw clenched.
