In the Transcendent Origin Folds.
The silence where Nysteria had been was a wound in the fabric of the battlefield, a pocket of absolute quiet that was somehow louder than the surrounding chaos.
The Living Origins, their collective will momentarily fractured by the impossible theft, were a tempest of suppressed fury!
Accusations, unspoken but potent, flew like poisoned arrows across the void, their primary target the impassive, smiling visages of the Living Paradoxes.
Duke Elagabalus, his form a shimmering contradiction of youth and antiquity, met their glares with a cold, weary arrogance.
Duke Diviticus, still radiating the borrowed might of the corpse she believed she controlled, looked ready to unleash her deathly authority at the slightest provocation!
But the arguments, the simmering resentments, the eons of bad blood…all of it had to wait. Because The Dead did not stop coming.
