Kyren's POV
*****
Death.
That was one fleeting concept he never feared. He's lived and breathed in its unforgiving fog for centuries after all.
Yet when he got warped through the dimensional rift—he felt something. Was it fear? He couldn't tell. But the moment made him realise how soft he's become.
Him. The one who decimated a fleet of Arcadian soldiers as a ten-year-old. He who slaughtered rogue factions daring to question his rule. Who's defended his domain for centuries... Had to resort to a potentially suicidal spell to defeat some augmented witches.
As these thoughts ran through his mind, his eyes fluttered open. Slowly. He'd expected himself to be floating through the void between space-time.
That wasn't the case.
"Finally." A voice echoed through the darkness around him. THAT voice.
Kyren blinked, scanning his surroundings.
