The air felt oppressive. A blanket of violet light had engulfed the world. Atticus, Whisker, Ozeroth… every soul stood rigid.
The pillar of light rising on the horizon began to condense. Every eye sharpened on it. From the depths of its radiance, a stoic man emerged.
He was tall and broad, eyes like blocks of ice and an aura that felt otherworldly. He seemed like a beacon in the world, as though only he mattered.
The Spirit King.
"LORD SOLVATH!"
Zenon shot into the sky, staring on with trembling eyes. Below him, the Willguard True God, along with many other True Gods engaged in battle, stared at the Spirit King in shock. He… he had tricked them all.
"This… what is this, my lord!? This god is one of those seeking your destruction! You can't grant him your power!"
The Spirit King's mouth did not move, yet a voice rumbled through the world.
"ZENON."
Zenon immediately dropped to one knee.
"Yes, my lord!"
