The emergence of the Corvus entity in his mind was like a twilight filled with circling ravens, the surroundings cloaked in an oppressive darkness by the man's power. In reality, though, Matar had merely felt an overwhelming drowsiness and slumped, asleep, in his throne. Yet, within that dream-like state, he clearly saw the person he was talking to. He couldn't make out the face, however, as it was perpetually obscured by tendrils of thick, suffocating smoke. The man's voice was a chilling rumble, as deep and fathomless as the ocean, sending shivers that seemed to claw their way up Matar's spine. From that dreadful voice, he heard about an impending, devastating war.
"If the Thallerion race wages war against you because of Sapar's rash actions," the voice spoke to him, each word a cold pronouncement, "you will surely be utterly defeated by those people! Their strength will crush you!" Matar listened intently, absorbing every terrifying syllable during their conversation.
