The Pope of Saint Reel, this human god, slowly stood up from the throne.
His body was unusually small, the large papal robe dragging on the ground, covered in white ash, swirling black fog on his wrinkled face, and pure black eyes reflecting his dark, corrupted soul.
He did not unleash any spiritual energy, yet his majesty filled the heavens and earth, as if a being more enormous than the universe stood before them.
Beside him, Takxis's roaring sound instantly stopped, as if the broken spiritual energy core generator halted its struggle. His eyes were wide open, heavy breathing like a broken bellows tearing at Rod's ears.
At this moment, Rod felt he was not much different from Takxis.
The creature is the manifestation of chaos, a collection of disorder, without will, only residual instinct. It will never communicate with humans, will not use any language, only roar or whisper meaninglessly.
