The silence was deafening.
Bane lay motionless in the center of the frozen crater. His gaze remained fixed on the gray, empty sky, staring at the exact spot where the violet rift had vanished moments ago.
The snow fell gently on his face, melting against his feverish skin, but he didn't blink.
His eyes, once burning with the arrogant fire of a genius and the sinister glow of a warlock, were now murky. They looked like stagnant pools of dead water.
He had no strength to move a finger. He had no will to scream.
'...Why?'
The question echoed in the hollow chamber of his mind.
'Where did it go wrong?'
He had planned everything perfectly.
From the isolation of the Salom Tribe to the ambush of the Overlord. He had calculated the variables, prepared the relics, and even accounted for the unexpected intervention of the enemy forces.
He was the Crown Prince.
He was the prodigy who had tamed a Void Stalker.
There should have been no mistake. Perfection was his standard.
