Rise did not get consumed by rage, as he had assumed when thinking of the creator who manipulated his life and death for countless lives.
His expression remained serious, but he became calm. Was he terrified deep down? Perhaps so. And yet, there was a kind of twisted accomplishment of finally making the author, who was oh so almighty, show themselves.
This meant what they were doing was right, and it gave that being a crisis.
The time seemed to become frozen as the two sides stared at each other into a standstill. Despite that, the oppressive malice reached a higher peak, as though wanting to swallow them whole.
[Annoying]
A reverberating voice thundered, echoing through the depths of their souls. The others, and even Rise, were somehow affected, frowning slightly.
The face vaguely contorted, glaring down at them.
[Why don't you just die, Rise?]
[WHY]
[DIE ALREADY!]
