From the shadows, there was a deep and profound gaze — a presence from beyond the distant universe — watching all the battles that had taken place here.
"You, until the very end… merely watched, just like us," Itarim whispered, squeezing out the last of his strength as he sent his will toward that gaze.
"Behold. Now your son, and your name, have judged me," he said with a faint smile. "So tell me, oh dear Death… was my stage worth watching?"
Yet no answer came back. Instead, the gaze withdrew into the shadows, and Itarim's expression slowly crumbled.
"Ahhh… so this is what it feels like to be someone's spectacle."