"Sister, are we there yet?" Mammon's voice was a low grumble of pure boredom. He was sprawled across Nova's massive, draconic back, the thrill of their epic journey having long since faded.
For eight long years in the Realm of Advancement's time, they had traveled. They had flown through a rain of pure acid that had sizzled against Nova's absolute defense and navigated a storm of soul-slicing winds that had forced even Mammon to retreat deep into the safety of the void.
They had witnessed wonders and horrors that other beings could only dream of, but now, all Mammon wanted was for it to be over.
"Just a few million more kilometers," Nova replied, her voice a calm, steady rumble as she navigated the strange, distorted space at the center of the realm.
"Then teleport! Why are we flying all this way like common birds?" he complained, his voice muffled by her obsidian scales.
