From the shadows, a black figure shot upward. It was the Nether-Throne—the very relic Aldric the First had once tried, and failed, to move. The throne ascended smoothly and came to rest behind the Lord of the Underworld.
"Lord of the Underworld," the Throne itself declared, its voice resonating like polished steel, "I infused the faith of the Underworld into another so that I might return to the Nether Realm. Please forgive me."
Ethan blinked. The Throne was speaking.
"This is not your fault," the Lord of the Underworld replied, her voice calm as she descended and settled upon the Throne. To Ethan, the sight felt natural, almost inevitable. Certainly far more fitting than when Aldric the First had once forced himself into that seat. "What I wish to know," she continued, "is why you abandoned the Underworld and came here."
