The throne room was thrown into darkness.
Max felt all of the pressure vanish at once, but that did not mean the trial had ended. If anything, it only made the place feel more wrong. The throne was moving away from him, drifting deeper into the darkness while a narrow light shone down on it from above, illuminating it like a sacred object floating on nothing.
Max was floating as well, suspended in that same endless darkness.
But unlike the throne, which remained bathed in that pale radiance, Max's body was cast in crimson light, as if he had been covered in blood from head to toe.
He took a step forward and reached for the throne.
It moved away.
