"The cycle is about to end… isn't that right, Grace?"
A sultry, velvet-smooth voice unfurled through the dark chamber.
A strikingly handsome man stood before a blackish-purple vortex, its surface twisting and folding in on itself as though space had been wounded and left to bleed.
Faint arcs of energy pulsed within it, casting dim, shifting light across his regal attire.
"..."
Silence answered the question.
The man's lips curved slowly, a dangerous, knowing smile forming as he stepped closer.
"Oh? How long do you intend to keep sulking?" His voice lowered, "Come now… it's not a sin to speak with your own brother." He lifted one hand, almost inviting.
"After all… we are exiled ones… aren't we?"
Crack!
A violent surge tore through the vortex. A bolt of lightning burst forth, jagged and blinding, striking him head-on. The impact detonated his skull into fragments, blood and bone scattering across the chamber walls.
For a heartbeat, nothing remained but ruin.
Then—
