The violet light of love washed over Marcus like a tidal wave, saturating the space around him with concentrated emotional energy. The Star Sapphires had poured everything into this attack—centuries of accumulated power, the combined will of hundreds of ring-bearers, the absolute conviction that love could heal any wound and redeem any soul.
For perhaps two seconds, the violet energy surrounded Marcus completely, wrapping him in a cocoon of pure affection. The Star Sapphires allowed themselves a moment of hope, thinking maybe—just maybe—they'd succeeded where violence had failed.
Then the void struck back.
White-gold light erupted from Marcus's position with such force that nearby space-time cracked. The void energy that formed the core of his being, that emptiness which could purify and transform anything it touched, surged outward in a tsunami of power.
The violet light didn't stand a chance.
Marcus's void consumed the love energy instantly, breaking it down into component emotional particles and assimilating it. The process was terrifyingly efficient—what the Star Sapphires had sent as a weapon of redemption became fuel for the very thing they'd hoped to change.
But worse than that, the void didn't just stop at the energy itself. It followed the connection back to its source.
The violet beam had created a link between the Star Sapphires and Marcus, a conduit meant to channel love directly into his consciousness. That conduit worked both ways. And now, pure void energy was racing along it like lightning through copper wire, heading straight for the Star Sapphires themselves.
"No—break the connection!" Star Sapphires leader screamed, finally understanding the danger. "Everyone, drop your constructs! BREAK IT!"
But severing a violet light connection wasn't like turning off a switch. The power of love created bonds that were difficult to dismiss, links that persisted even when you wanted them gone. It was one of the violet light's greatest strengths in normal combat.
Right now, it was their greatest weakness.
The void energy reached the Star Sapphires before most of them could react.
"Lohk."
The word resonated across multiple dimensional frequencies, spoken in Marcus's voice but carrying harmonics that belonged to something older, something vaster than any individual being. It was the void speaking through him, pronouncing judgment in a language that preceded conventional reality.
The first Star Sapphire to be hit suddenly went rigid. Her eyes, which had been blazing with violet energy, flickered. The color drained out of them like water through a sieve, replaced by gray-white emptiness.
"Xata," she whispered, the word emerging unbidden from her lips. Her body began shaking violently, power warring within her as the void energy fought against the violet light for dominance.
For a moment, it looked like the violet light might win. The Star Sapphire's ring blazed brighter, trying to burn away the invading void with the sheer intensity of her love.
Then her body split down the middle.
Not literally—there was no blood, no gore. But spiritually, metaphysically, she separated into two distinct entities that occupied the same space. One remained connected to the violet light, pure love given form. The other was suffused with void energy, emptiness that had learned to wear a familiar face.
The void-touched version stepped out of the original, pulling free like someone removing a mask. For a heartbeat, two identical women stood facing each other—one radiating violet light, the other emanating white-gold void.
"Xata," the void duplicate said, and the word carried weight that made reality bend. The original Star Sapphire's struggles stopped instantly. She stood perfectly still, her violet light dimming to barely a flicker, as the void energy in her system found equilibrium.
"What..." Star Sapphires leader stared in horror as the same process began happening to other Star Sapphires across their formation. "What is he doing to them?"
The answer became clear quickly. Every Star Sapphire touched by the void energy was having a duplicate created—a void-corrupted mirror image that possessed all the same powers but drew from emptiness rather than love. The originals remained alive, but diminished, their power split between themselves and their darker twins.
And those void duplicates looked at their originals with expressions that mixed mockery with something like pity.
"You fought with love," one void duplicate said to its counterpart, its voice identical but colder. "We'll fight with void. Let's see which is stronger, shall we?"
The void-touched Star Sapphires—the Void Legion, as Marcus was already thinking of them—had the same strength as their originals. But their power was fundamentally different. Where the Star Sapphires' violet constructs were driven by love and attachment, the Void Legion's white-gold constructs were motivated by the absence of attachment, by the freedom that came from caring about nothing.
It made them unpredictable, dangerous in ways their originals weren't.
The other Lantern Corps watched this transformation with mounting horror. They'd come here to stop Marcus from hunting more entities, to prevent the emotional spectrum from being damaged further. Instead, they were watching him corrupt an entire Corps, turn their members into weapons against them.
"We need to stop this," a Green Lantern said while his ring blazing. "Before it spreads to—"
But someone else was already moving.
The Blue Lantern Corps, wielders of hope, had made a decision.
"All will be well," Saint Walker intoned, his voice carrying absolute conviction. He and his fellow Blue Lanterns raised their rings simultaneously, and brilliant blue light erupted from them in a flood.
But this energy didn't target Marcus. Instead, it flowed toward the Star Sapphires—both the originals and their void duplicates.
The Blue Lanterns' power had a unique property: it amplified other positive emotional spectrum energies. Green willpower became stronger in blue light's presence. Violet love became more intense. Even indigo compassion gained additional depth when supported by hope.
Saint Walker was betting everything on one desperate gambit—if they amplified the Star Sapphires' power enough, maybe the violet light could burn away the void corruption. Maybe hope could turn the tide.
The blue energy washed over the Star Sapphires, and the effect was immediate and dramatic.
Violet light blazed from the original Star Sapphires with unprecedented intensity, their power multiplying exponentially under the Blue Lanterns' enhancement. The rings on their fingers burned like miniature stars, and the constructs they formed became almost solid in their density.
"It's working!" One of the Blue Lanterns shouted. "The amplification is—"
But then the blue light touched the void duplicates.
And something changed.
The Void Legion's white-gold energy didn't resist the amplification—it accepted it. Blue hope merged with void emptiness, creating something new, something that shouldn't have been possible. The void duplicates blazed with power that matched their originals, but rather than being purged by the enhanced violet light, they grew stronger alongside it.
Hope amplified positive emotions. But the void wasn't negative—it was empty. And emptiness, when filled with hope, became potential. The Void Legion suddenly had access to both the void's purifying emptiness and the emotional spectrum's empowering hope.
They were stronger than ever.
"Oh no," Saint Walker whispered, his eternal optimism finally cracking. "What have I done?"
The enhanced Star Sapphires and their void-empowered counterparts clashed in a explosion of violet and white-gold light. The two forces were perfectly matched now, neither able to overcome the other, locked in a stalemate that would likely persist until both sides exhausted themselves.
Which meant they were out of the fight.
Marcus watched this with clinical interest from his position at the center of the chaos. The void corruption had worked even better than anticipated, and the Blue Lanterns' well-intentioned intervention had only made things more interesting. The Void Legion would keep the Star Sapphires busy indefinitely.
Two Corps effectively neutralized without him needing to do anything more.
That left three.
The Green Lantern Corps, representing willpower—the most numerous and arguably most powerful of all the Lantern Corps. The Blue Lantern Corps, embodying hope—fewer in number but capable of force multiplication. And the Indigo Tribe, channeling compassion—mysterious, powerful, and dangerous in their own unique way.
All three were now staring at Marcus with the dawning realization that they were facing something unprecedented. Something that didn't just fight the emotional spectrum but corrupted it, turned it against itself, made it serve new purposes.
"We need to work together," A green lantern corp said, his voice tight with tension. His ring pulsed with green light as he addressed the other Corps' leaders. "No more individual attacks. No more special tactics. We hit him with everything, all at once, coordinated assault."
"Agreed," Saint Walker said, though his usual serenity was badly shaken. "Hope amplifies will. Together, we might—"
"You might have a chance," Marcus finished for him, his voice carrying easily across the void. "That's what you're thinking, right? That if you all attack together, coordinate your powers, use the synergies between your different spectrum aspects, you might actually be able to stop me."
He let the words hang there for a moment, watching the emotions play across their faces. Hope. Determination. Fear carefully suppressed. The Green Lanterns were hardening their willpower, preparing themselves for what they knew would likely be their last stand. The Blue Lanterns were clinging to hope even as it wavered. The Indigo Tribe remained inscrutable, their expressions hidden behind their tribal markings.
"The problem with that theory," Marcus continued, and Valkyr Prime's claws extended to their full length, "is that you're still thinking of me as your opponent. You're not understanding what I actually am."
He kicked off empty space, and reality cracked beneath the force of his movement.
"I'm not your opponent. I'm your predator. And the hunt," red light blazing around him as he accelerated, "is already over. You just don't know it yet."
The three remaining Corps responded instantly, throwing up coordinated defenses that made their previous attempts look amateurish by comparison.
Green willpower formed the foundation—massive constructs of pure determination that simply refused to break. Giant walls, interlocking shields, maze-like structures designed to slow and trap. The Green Lanterns poured their power into making these defenses as unyielding as possible.
Blue hope reinforced everything, the amplification making the green constructs stronger than they had any right to be. What should have been simple energy barriers became near-impenetrable fortifications, solid enough to withstand planetary impacts.
And the Indigo Tribe wove compassion through it all, creating a network that could sense where attacks were coming from and redistribute defensive power accordingly. They were adapting the defenses in real-time, making them responsive and flexible rather than rigid.
It was impressive. Brilliant, even. The kind of coordinated defense that could have stopped armies, held back cosmic threats, protected entire sectors of space.
Marcus went through it like it wasn't there.
The crimson light that was Valkyr Prime in full Hysteria mode simply didn't acknowledge the defenses. His claws swept out, and where they touched, the constructs didn't break—they dissolved. The rage energy coating his attacks was so overwhelming that it burned through willpower, hope, and compassion like acid through paper.
The Green Lanterns tried to reform their defenses. Marcus destroyed them faster than they could rebuild.
The Blue Lanterns tried to amplify their allies' powers further. Marcus's void-touched strikes simply absorbed the blue energy and grew stronger.
The Indigo Tribe tried to teleport him away, redirect him, use their compassion-based abilities to manipulate space itself. Marcus grabbed the teleportation effect mid-cast and tore it, using the momentum to accelerate even faster toward his real targets.
Because Marcus wasn't fighting the Lantern Corps themselves. They were just obstacles.
His real targets were the entities they were trying to summon.
Through Prime's enhanced senses, Marcus could feel the three Corps leaders making the same desperate decision. They were calling their entities, preparing to attempt the most dangerous thing a Lantern could do—voluntary possession by the cosmic embodiments of their respective spectrum aspects.
If a Lantern was strong enough, had enough willpower, hope, or compassion, they could host their entity and wield its power directly. It was incredibly risky—the entities could overwhelm weaker hosts, consume them, use their bodies as vessels while destroying their minds.
But these were the Corps leaders. They'd been chosen for their strength, their capability to withstand possession. They were betting everything on one last gambit: become one with their entities, gain enough power to actually fight Marcus on even terms.
Marcus felt the entities responding to their hosts' calls, felt them manifesting in physical space.
Perfect. That saved him the trouble of hunting them down separately.
Three streams of light appeared in Marcus's void-enhanced vision, each one blazing with distinctive energy.
The Ion, entity of willpower. It took the form of a massive shark-like creature, all sleek lines and predatory grace, swimming through space as easily as water. Green light radiated from every inch of its body, and its eyes burned with the absolute conviction that it would prevail because it chose to prevail.
The Adara, entity of hope. A bird-like being with three faces—past, present, and future—each one reflecting different aspects of optimism. Blue light streamed from its wings as it flew, and everything it touched found reasons to believe that tomorrow would be better.
The Proselyte, entity of compassion. An octopus-like creature with numerous tentacles, each one capable of sensing the suffering of others and responding with appropriate aid. Indigo light pulsed through its form, and its very presence made beings want to help each other, to ease pain wherever it existed.
Three entities. Three cosmic embodiments. Three final obstacles between Marcus and complete spectrum domination.
They descended toward their chosen hosts simultaneously.
Marcus moved faster.
The Fang of Yakesh.
He shifted forms mid-flight, Valkyr Prime dissolving as Voruna Prime took its place. The Red Shadow Wolf Mother manifested in full glory, and Yakesh—the lead wolf spirit, the Fang that could tear through anything—swelled to enormous proportions.
Marcus and Yakesh became one being, a hybrid predator that existed as both Warframe and spectral wolf. The jaws opened impossibly wide, fangs gleaming with void energy, and then they bit.
The target was the Proselyte. The compassion entity was closest, had manifested slightly ahead of the others in its eagerness to merge with its host. That made it the most vulnerable.
Yakesh's jaws closed around the Proselyte's octopus-like form, and the entity screamed—a sound that resonated across the indigo spectrum and made every compassionate being in the universe feel a spike of empathetic agony.
The fangs that could tear through anything in existence, energy or matter, sank deep into the Proselyte's form. The entity thrashed, its tentacles wrapping around Yakesh's spectral head, trying desperately to pull free.
It couldn't.
Yakesh's bite tightened, and the Proselyte began breaking apart. Not dying—entities couldn't die, not truly—but being unmade. Each piece that separated from the whole was immediately chewed, ground down, reduced to pure indigo light by the Fang's reality-eating properties.
"No!" Natromo shouted, his voice breaking with grief as he watched his entity being destroyed. "Proselyte! PROSELYTE!"
But the compassion entity couldn't answer. It was too busy being devoured.
In less than ten seconds, the Proselyte was reduced to a sphere of concentrated indigo light, pulsing weakly in Yakesh's mouth. The wolf spirit opened its jaws, and the sphere drifted gently into Marcus's outstretched hand.
One down.
The Ion and Adara, seeing their fellow entity torn apart so easily, changed tactics. They abandoned their attempts to merge with hosts—that would take too long, leave them vulnerable during the possession process. Instead, they chose to fight Marcus directly, betting that two entities working together could succeed where one had failed.
"There are two more!" Marcus said, his voice carrying anticipation rather than concern.
Yakesh, having dealt with the Proselyte, turned its attention to the Ion. The shark-entity was already moving, its massive form cutting through space with impossible speed, jaws opening to reveal fangs that could tear through stars.
The two titans collided in a clash that sent shockwaves rippling through multiple dimensions.
On paper, the fight should have been even. Both were apex predators, both wielded cosmic power, both had existed for eons. The Ion had pure willpower on its side—the absolute certainty that it would win because it refused to lose.
Yakesh had something simpler: hunger.
The wolf spirit's jaws closed around the Ion's throat, and the shark-entity thrashed wildly, trying to break free through sheer force. Its willpower blazed like a green sun, fighting against the reality-eating properties of Yakesh's bite.
For a moment—just a moment—it looked like the Ion might actually pull free. Its willpower was that strong, that absolute in its conviction.
Then Marcus poured void energy directly into Yakesh's attack.
The emptiness crashed against the Ion's willpower like a tsunami against a sand castle. Willpower required something to be willful about, required a self that could make choices and stick to them. The void dissolved that self, broke down the fundamental structures that made volition possible.
The Ion's struggles weakened. Its green light dimmed. And then Yakesh's fangs closed completely, severing the entity's head from its body.
The Ion dissolved into pure green light, and Yakesh caught it between spectral teeth before it could escape. Another sphere of concentrated spectrum energy—this one emerald green and still pulsing with desperate determination—fell into Marcus's hand.
Two down.
The Adara, seeing both its companions destroyed in rapid succession, made a choice. The hope entity didn't try to fight, didn't attempt to flee. Instead, it did something unexpected—it talked.
"Wait," the Adara said, its three faces speaking in harmony. "Please. Let us speak before you consume us as well."
Marcus paused, surprised enough by the request to actually consider it. Yakesh remained poised to strike, jaws open and ready, but didn't attack immediately.
"You want to negotiate?" Marcus asked. "You're a cosmic entity. You embody hope itself. Why would you think there's any hope of negotiating with me?"
"Because," the Adara's future-face said, "we have seen what you're building. We have perceived the pattern in your actions. You're not destroying the entities—you're transforming them. Making them serve a new purpose."
"The past-face added, "You absorbed fear and made it hunt with you. You consumed rage and made it strengthen you. You claimed greed and turned it into a tool."
The present-face finished: "You're going to do the same to us. To hope. And we want to offer a deal—take us willingly, and we'll serve you better than we ever served the Blue Lanterns."
Marcus studied the entity carefully. This was... interesting. The Adara wasn't begging for its existence. It was proposing a mutually beneficial arrangement, recognizing that cooperation might yield better results than resistance.
"You'd serve me willingly?" Marcus asked. "Why?"
"Because," all three faces said in unison, "we are hope. And we see hope in you—not for the universe as it is, but for what it could become. You're changing the fundamental rules, rewriting the way power works. That's terrifying. But it's also... hopeful."
The logic was twisted, but in a weird way, it made sense. Hope didn't require things to be good—it just required the possibility that they could be better. And Marcus was definitely offering possibilities that hadn't existed before.
"Plus," the future-face added pragmatically, "you're going to consume us anyway. We're just trying to ensure we remain useful afterward."
Marcus couldn't help but laugh. An entity made of pure hope, and it was being practical about its own consumption. The universe really was full of surprises.
"Alright," Marcus said. "I accept your offer. Serve me willingly."
The Adara bowed its three heads, and then it flew forward of its own accord. Yakesh's jaws opened, but this time the bite was gentle—almost ceremonial. The hope entity dissolved into blue light without struggle, flowing into Marcus's hand as a perfect sphere of concentrated optimism.
Three down. All seven entities claimed.
Marcus stood in space, surrounded by his four wolf spirits, holding seven spheres of concentrated emotional spectrum energy. Fear's yellow, rage's red, greed's orange, love's violet, compassion's indigo, willpower's green, and hope's blue. Each one pulsed with power that could reshape reality, influence entire civilizations, grant cosmic-level abilities.
And they were all his now.
The remaining Lantern Corps members—those who hadn't been fighting the Void Legion, hadn't been knocked unconscious by shockwaves, hadn't fled in terror—stared at Marcus in absolute silence.
He'd done it. One being, acting alone, had hunted down and captured every single emotional spectrum entity in existence. The fundamental forces that powered the Lantern Corps across the universe had been claimed by a single predator.
"It's done," Marcus said, his voice carrying finality.
He looked at the three Lantern Corps still present—Green, Blue, and Indigo. Their leaders looked shell-shocked, unable to process what had just happened. They'd come here to stop him. Instead, they'd watched him succeed completely.
"Your entities are gone," Marcus continued. "But your rings still work. The emotional spectrum itself remains—I haven't damaged it. You can continue being Lanterns, continue protecting the universe, continue doing what you've always done."
He let that sink in for a moment before adding:
"But understand this: I could have killed every one of you. Could have consumed your rings, destroyed your Corps, left the universe without any Lanterns at all. I didn't. Do you know why?"
A Green Lantern, his face pale but determined, spoke up. "Why?"
"Because you're useful," Marcus said bluntly. "The Lantern Corps maintain order. You handle threats I don't have time for, protect planets I'll never visit, make the universe function smoothly enough that interesting things can develop. Killing you would be counterproductive."
He stored the seven entity spheres in void pockets, keeping them safe until he was ready to use them.
"So here's how this works now: You continue doing your jobs. I won't interfere with Lantern Corps operations unless they interfere with me. But know that the entities—the sources of your power—belong to me now. If I need them, I'll use them. If you become a problem, I'll deal with you."
"That's not—" Saint Walker started.
"That's not a negotiation," Marcus cut him off. "That's me telling you how things are. Accept it or don't—your choice won't change the reality."
He called the wolf spirits back to him, and they merged with Voruna Prime's form, becoming part of the armor once more.
"Oh, and about the Void Legion," Marcus added, gesturing toward where the corrupted Star Sapphires were still fighting their originals. "They'll figure themselves out eventually. Either they'll find balance, or one side will win. Either way, it's not my problem anymore."
And with that, Marcus simply left.
One moment he was there, surrounded by the remnants of five Lantern Corps and the chaos he'd created. The next, he was gone—vanished into the void, taking the seven entities with him.
The Lantern Corps members looked at each other in stunned silence. They'd just witnessed something that shouldn't have been possible. One being had hunted, captured, and claimed every emotional spectrum entity in existence.
And they'd been powerless to stop him.
"What do we do now?" someone finally asked.
No one had an answer.
Somewhere in Deep Space
Marcus materialized far from any inhabited systems, any Lantern Corps patrol routes, any place where he might be disturbed. He needed privacy for what came next—seven armor upgrades in relatively quick succession.
He'd already upgraded Voruna with Parallax's fear and Valkyr with the Butcher's rage. That left five entities and five armors waiting for their transformations.
"Let's start with greed," Marcus decided, pulling out the orange sphere that contained the Ophidian's essence.
His form shifted, Voruna Prime dissolving as a different Warframe took its place.
Nekros
The armor that materialized around Marcus was disturbing in a different way than Valkyr. Where Valkyr looked tortured and flayed, Nekros looked dead. The frame appeared skeletal, as if it were a corpse that had been animated through dark magic. Black and gray coloring gave it a deathly pallor, and the hood that covered its head created shadows that hid most of the frame's face.
Nekros was the death-themed Warframe, specializing in desecration and reanimation. It could raise the dead, force corpses to serve, drain life from enemies and convert it into useful resources. It was one of Marcus's most macabre frames, built around a theme that most people found unsettling.
And it was perfect for the Ophidian's power.
"Greed and death," Marcus mused, studying the orange sphere. "On the surface, they seem unrelated. But look deeper, and the connection is clear—both are about acquisition. Greed hoards the living. Death claims everything eventually. Together..."
He pressed the Ophidian's sphere against Nekros's chest, and the orange light flowed into the armor like water being absorbed by a sponge.
Black mist erupted from Nekros's form, the signature energy of the death-themed frame. But now, orange light was mixing with it, the avarice energy intertwining with deathly power. The two forces spiraled around each other, looking for ways to combine, to create something greater than either alone.
Royal Aya materialized around Marcus, each one pulsing with concentrated power. These were the refined catalysts he'd created from previous conquests, the pure distillations of strength that could push a Warframe from its base form to Prime status.
The crystals began orbiting Nekros, their energy flowing into the transformation process. The black mist grew thicker, more substantial, while the orange light became more concentrated, more purposeful.
And then, surprisingly, another power joined the mix.
Death energy—the fundamental force Marcus had absorbed from Hela years ago when he'd defeated the Asgardian goddess of death. He'd integrated that power into his arsenal long ago, but it had been dormant, waiting for the right opportunity to fully express itself.
This was that opportunity.
The death energy surged forward, recognizing Nekros as its natural home. It merged with the Ophidian's greed and the Aya Essence's refinement, creating a three-way synthesis that made the transformation dramatically more potent.
Nekros's skeletal form began changing.
The frame's body filled out, becoming less corpse-like and more like a warrior wearing death as armor. The black and gray coloring remained, but gold decorative elements began appearing—circuits and patterns that traced across the armor in designs that evoked both graveyards and treasure vaults.
The hood that had hidden Nekros's face slowly pulled back, revealing features that were no longer vaguely skull-like but instead suggested a monarch—someone who ruled over death rather than being consumed by it.
The transformation accelerated, power building to critical levels. The black mist became a swirling storm around Marcus, shot through with veins of orange light and traces of pure death energy. The Aya Essence crystals glowed brighter and brighter, pouring everything they had into the ascension process.
And then, with a sound like a reality sighing, the transformation completed.
Nekros Prime.
The armor that emerged from the mist was magnificent and terrible in equal measure. Where base Nekros had looked like a reanimated corpse, Nekros Prime looked like a death god made manifest. The black and gray base was now accented with intricate gold work that caught light in ways that seemed wrong, as if the decorations existed partially outside normal space.
The hood was gone completely, replaced by a crown-like formation that marked the wearer as royalty among the dead. The armor's proportions were more muscular now, less skeletal—this wasn't death as decay, but death as a powerful force that could be wielded with purpose.
And around Marcus, barely visible until they moved, were shapes. Ghosts. Spirits. The souls of the dead, given form by Nekros Prime's power and sustained by the Ophidian's avarice.
Marcus raised one hand, and the ghosts responded immediately. They manifested more fully, becoming visible as translucent figures that looked almost alive. Each one radiated faint orange light from their eyes—the mark of the Ophidian's possession, the claim that they belonged to Marcus now.
"Interesting," Marcus murmured, studying the spirits. "They're not just reanimated corpses anymore. These are actual souls, bound to serve. And they can use orange light energy..."
He commanded one of the ghosts to demonstrate its capabilities. The spirit raised its hands, and orange light constructs materialized—simple weapons and shields, but solid, functional, potentially devastating if used by enough ghosts simultaneously.
"So I can raise the dead, have them fight using emotional spectrum energy, and they'll persist indefinitely as long as I maintain the armor." Marcus smiled beneath Nekros Prime's crown. "That's an army that never stops growing. Every enemy I kill becomes a potential recruit."
But that wasn't even the best part.
Marcus focused on Nekros Prime's signature ability—Desecrate. The base version allowed him to violate corpses, breaking them down and randomly converting them into useful resources. Ammunition, health, energy—whatever the frame happened to need at that moment.
Now though? Now he could specify what the corpse became.
Marcus pulled a random piece of space debris toward him—just a chunk of frozen asteroid—and destroyed it with a gesture. Then he activated Desecrate, focusing on what he wanted the destroyed matter to become.
The debris glowed with black and orange light, restructuring itself according to Marcus's will. When the light faded, the random asteroid chunk had been transmuted into refined metals, exotic materials, crystallized energy—exactly what Marcus had specified.
"Perfect conversion," Marcus said with deep satisfaction. "I can turn anything dead into anything I need. That's not just resource generation—that's matter creation with extra steps."
The combination of greed's acquisitive nature, death's claim over all things, and the Prime upgrade's refinement had created something unprecedented. Nekros Prime wasn't just a necromancer anymore—it was the sovereign of death itself, ruling over the boundary between life and void with absolute authority.