Ethan stood where he was, staring at him coldly.
The whiplash was so violent Ethan didn't even react at first.
Just moments ago, the one sitting on the throne had been a king who called everyone slaves, who ordered a mechanical army to haul them away for "reflection."
But that roar—
There hadn't been even a trace of pretense in it.
A bitterness he couldn't put into words rose in Ethan's chest.
Like Zareth II hadn't originally been like this.
Like becoming king, sitting on this throne, issuing those commands… none of it had truly been his own will.
More like something had forced him into this position.
Ethan walked up to Zareth II.
The king's eyes were still open, but the light in them was gone.
Ethan reached out and gently closed them.
Then he turned and looked around.
The massive mechanical palace was still running.
The turrets were still adjusting their angles.
