Nyxara pushed her way out of the formation created by her siblings and looked at this Mandala of horror that had taken the shapes of the Primordials,
"So, with all the resources you have to work with, this is the greatest weapon you can create? These pale imitations of our glory?"
The creatures shaped by the power of Death roared in rage, and the sound was horrifying, emerging from an age that was alien to this Existence, because while it was true that Existences perish and are rebirthed, their essence was always subtly different.
In some Existence in the past, light was different, more dim or some were brighter, in others, the hardest substance was stone and not metal, but these were just the physical changes, the greatest changes were usually spiritual.
