[Bonus chapter thanks to Abda213 <3]
'To Reap.' Sylas said calmly.
Control could mean a lot of things.
Sylas swiped his scythe through the air. The wind almost screeched in separating as though the whines and tears of billions were streaking across it.
Control could mean sitting at the peak and looking down on everything there was. But even that could come in differing flavors. It was possible to sit on such a throne by an iron fist alone, or maybe to sit upon it through the force of one's intelligence, or one's wealth, or one's charisma.
This was one path that could separate into many, a continuous stream of possibilities down just a single setting.
But there were other forms of it.
When Sylas first stepped into this new world, that was all he wanted. Control. He had never defined it himself, but back on Earth, he had thought himself to have firmly grasped it.
