The valley was silent again. The snow fell softly, a steady drift that cloaked the ridges and jagged stones, muting the land.
Death stood with his cloak pulled tight against the wind, though the chill never really touched him. It couldn't, not when every step he took killed life itself in a circle around him.
Luna had left a few minutes ago with Gaia and Atreides, taking them to their quarters and answering the endless questions that always followed when powerful beings were convinced to follow another's war.
Now he was finally alone.
His gaze lifted to the dark shape slumbering in the mist shrouded gorge below. The Skybreaker's colossal body could still be seen through the haze, its great shoulders and folded arms looking like a mountain that had grown a skeleton of steel and bronze.
The runes etched across its plating pulsed faintly, as though even in its rest the giant was dreaming.
