The Vistro manor was a wasteland, looking like the end of the world. The gigantic Underworld Finger was coming down slowly, like a falling moon. It was going to wipe everything out. As the palm lowered, the demonic pressure intensified to a degree that turned the air into a shimmering violet sludge. Edward was stuck in the middle of everything, his knees deep in the floor, head down from the heavy weight.
The Marquis, standing amidst the rubble with his mouth still agape in that horrifying conduit pose, felt a surge of ecstatic triumph. He watched the descent, his mind clouded by the demonic corruption, believing he was finally crushing the anomaly that had threatened his reign.
But beneath the shadow of the skeletal palm, Edward's eyes flashed with a terrifying clarity.
'Closer,' he thought, his heart beating with cold precision. 'Just a few more inches.'
