"Now then," the ancient undead lord said, his voice carrying undertones that seemed to resonate in the bones of everyone who heard it, "let us discover exactly what manner of abomination you truly are—and how best to unmake it."
Jaenor scowled at the words, "Can you please not talk?"
"It's hella irritating, bone man."
The Lich King made a displeased sound, the shadows around him pulsing with a dark energy. "Your insolence will not save you from your fate," he replied, his icy gaze locking onto Jaenor with a chilling intensity.
Jaenor's body hummed with the dual energies he'd only just discovered—the raw, primal Origin power that felt like molten fire in his veins, and the refined aura that flowed like cool water around his form. The two energies should have torn him apart, yet they danced together in perfect harmony within him.
"You speak of me as if you know what I am," Jaenor called out, his voice steady despite the fear clawing at his chest.
